DISCLAIMER: Xena, Gabrielle, Argo, etc. are
©copyright MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. I don’t own them, I just play
with them for a while and, like the good girl I am, I put them back when I’m
done…okay, they get a little worn, but hey…I play hard! Absolutely no Copyright
infringement was intended in the writing of this fiction. It’s intended as flattery
toward the creators, writers, and actors of the characters. All other characters that
appear are ©copyright Devlin@xenafan.com . This
story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies may be made for private use
only and I’d appreciate if you included all copyright notices and this disclaimer.
VIOLENCE WARNING: There is violence (come on
it’s the Conqueror). The nature of the story is not nearly as dark as some Conqueror
fiction, but it’s essence is still the slave / master relationship that exists
between Xena & Gabrielle.
TIMELINE: My own making. Xena is the Lord,
Conqueror of Greece, but she is almost forty-five years old when she meets the slave,
Gabrielle. Many of Xena’s evil ways have been sedated, but not all. I call this Xena
the “thinking woman’s” Conqueror. She is a woman who wants to try to do the
right thing, but doesn’t always know how.
SEX: Yes, I’ll have some, thank you. Ooops! I mean, yes there is. It is our favorite
two Soulmates, after all. It’s not gratuitous, but it is quite explicit when it gets
going. This story shows consensual as well as non-consenting love (master/slave), sex and
yes, even some light bdsm between two adult females.
HIGH ANGST WARNING: I was threatened within an
inch of my life if I didn’t start putting this disclaimer on some (all?) of my work.
I will henceforth rate the angst content with sad faces, one being the lowest and four
being the highest. This story earns: L L
(2 sad faces for those without TT Fonts)
UNDERAGE WARNING: Hey, the Supreme Court said in Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union (1997) that
laws against making available, online, certain “indecent” materials for those
under 18 was unconstitutional…look it up! Besides, this is perfectly
“decent.” J
I only know
how others feel about my stories from feedback. Let me know what you think...homophobes
need not apply, however. I’m at: Devlin@xenafan.com
**Special thanks to Jim Kuntz for his permission in using any Lion of Amphipolis references.
The Conqueror Series
Tale One: Journey’s End
By LJ Maas
I lie here
awake, as the predawn light attempts to filter in from behind the heavy tapestries that
cover the windows. I listen to the regular breathing and feel the tiny twitches of
sleep-absorbed muscles, coming from the woman in my arms. I take this moment to thank
those Gods still favoring me, amazed at Athena’s tolerance of my twenty-season
absence from her temple. Perhaps a bit of placating is in order. For I know with
certainty, only the power of the Gods could have brought Gabrielle and I together in this
fashion.
Waking at my
usual time was no more a chore than it always was, however I was loath to leave this spot
at present. I now had a reason to stay and linger, the feeling of Gabrielle’s small
body tucked against me, compelling me to lie here, for just a while longer.
I heard
Sylla in the outer room. She was no doubt cleaning up the mess I left, and that Gabrielle
was too preoccupied to remember. My maid decided that coming into the bedchamber to wake
me was too personal a task to attempt, now that I was no longer alone. I smiled at the
times Sylla hustled a sleepy whore from my bed, so I wouldn’t have to look at the
woman the next day. Gods, the things people put up with from me. I appreciated the fact
that Sylla afforded this respect, not only to me, but to Gabrielle also. The reason why
took the smile from my face and replaced it with a frown. Sylla provided this courtesy to
Gabrielle because she no longer thought of the young woman as a slave. Actually, very few
people in the palace did. When people spoke of her to me, they called her, my Gabrielle.
They could just as easily have said, my slave, but none did. It seems that only one
person still thought of Gabrielle as a slave, and that was Gabrielle herself.
Of course, I
perpetuated that notion with my selfish denial of her freedom. With only a word, I could
have a Queen by my side, and yet I settle for a slave. I know…I know in my head the
wrongness of it all, but Gods, my heart. I couldn’t take it if she were to leave me.
That’s what it all boils down to, doesn’t it. She may say she loves me now, but
wait. Just wait until the moment the beast is loosed upon her, instead of an enemy. If she
were a free woman, she would be able to run, any sane woman would, wouldn’t she?
I have found
the love of my life, the woman that no other has or will ever compare to, yet there is
still that tiny voice, deep inside. That voice that tells me I don’t deserve to be
loved, that given time, I will only hurt this beautiful young woman. I wonder when I will
have a day when I feel it’s okay for someone to love me. I release a heavy sigh and
suddenly the woman beside me is awake.
“You’re
thinking grave thoughts,” she whispered humorously, in a sleepy voice.
“How
long have you been awake?” I chuckle and ask. I was so involved with my own
introspections that I didn’t even hear the pattern of Gabrielle’s breathing
change.
“Long
enough to feel your body tighten up with those worries.” She answered.
“Xena?”
“Hhhmm?”
“Is it
still all right…to call you that?” Gabrielle asked, a small hint of concern in
her voice.
I rolled
partially over, until I was leaning against her, looking down into that beautiful face.
“It would take more than a night in Morpheus’ realm to cause me to forget my
love for you, Gabrielle.” I punctuated the statement with a deep, lingering kiss.
The doubts
vanished from Gabrielle’s face, while my own self-recriminations were tossed into a
heap in the corner of my mind. It was still a concern, but Gabrielle had a way of
dispelling the darkness from my heart and mind, not to mention the absolutely heart
stopping way she was preparing to thank me, for not leaving our bed too early this
morning.
*********************
A couple of
very pleasurable candlemarks later, I was in the process of receiving a much-needed back
massage. I laughed aloud at the memory that passed before my mind’s eye.
“Are
you suddenly ticklish?” Gabrielle questioned the small laugh.
“I was
remembering the first time you did this for me. You know where that got us, don’t
you.”
It was
Gabrielle’s turn to release a small bit of laughter, moving her body up until she was
lying across my back. Gods, she felt good.
“Would
you like a repeat performance, My Lord?” Gabrielle asked in a teasing manner,
stressing my title, to make me more aware of that fact.
I rolled
over, laughing, at the enthusiasm of her youth, and that I was even entertaining the
notion. I pulled her into my arms. “My heart says yes, most definitely, my body,
however, says that if I have one more orgasm this morning I’m going to pass out. I
will take you up on that offer later, however.” I added with a smile.
Kissing her
once more, I reluctantly pulled away to rise, but it was the feel of the small body in my
arms that caused me to lie back against the pillows, once more. We lay there for some
time, each of us lost in separate thoughts, but something told me we were both replaying
yesterdays events in our minds.
“Gabrielle?”
I asked hesitantly.
“Yes,
Xena?” she answered, rising up on one elbow, to look down on me.
Suddenly my
mouth went dry. She was leaning over me, her golden hair falling over her shoulder, the
strands reaching down to tickle my arm. She was a vision and her heart belonged to me,
just as I gave mine to her for safekeeping.
“Gods,
I love you.” I blurted out, feeling instant embarrassment at my juvenile method of
expressing the emotion.
Her smile
said more than an entire scroll. It lit her from within and she practically shimmered from
the ethereal quality of the effect. There I was, looking up into the face of a woman,
young enough to be my daughter, an expression on her face that belied her seasons. She
directed so much warmth and compassion toward me, through that one smile, that I
momentarily lost my voice.
“So
beautiful.” I finally uttered, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
A dark
thought occurred to me and I felt myself needing to clear the air.
“Gabrielle…those things I said to Demetri…you know I only said what I did
to--”
She reached
up and pressed her fingertips to my lips, effectively halting my speech.
“I
know,” she answered simply.
“I had
to let myself go, to get you away from him, I had to become…become
something…”
“Dark?”
Gabrielle voiced the words I found so difficult.
“Yes,
dark. Gabrielle, I don’t know how to explain it, but I lose myself when that happens.
I fear that I might forget myself that way around you. I would never purposely hurt you,
but I’m afraid that I might someday. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if
that happened. It almost did happen, Gods, Gabrielle, if you hadn’t moved out of the
way of my blade so quickly, I might have stabbed you.”
I watched
the play of emotions express themselves in her face. I wondered if she was thinking twice
about this whole thing…about me. Gabrielle appeared to be struggling with some
unknown choice. She seemed to finally come to a decision and spoke.
“I
knew.” She stated quietly.
“Knew
what?”
“Knew
you would turn with your dagger…I saw it…in a dream.” She slowly finished.
My first
impulse was to laugh at the young woman’s jest, but the look on Gabrielle’s face
said she was anything but joking. The expression told me she was expecting…well, I
don’t know what, but something. She lowered her eyes and silence hung heavy between
us, until it dawned on me. She was serious. Gabrielle was taking a huge chance in
revealing this to me.
When I was a
young woman, oracles were feared, yet respected individuals, whom the Gods blessed, or
cursed, depending on the way you viewed their situation. The world was a different place
now. The Gods rarely showed themselves, although I still received regular visits from some
of the most annoying of them. As this world changed, so did its people. People were no
longer open and accepting of what they did not understand, rather they let fear become a
ruler in their lives. Because of this behavior, gone were the gifted ones with the sight,
even the Oracle at Delphi, either murdered or gone into seclusion, no longer speaking of
her visions.
To this day,
I look back with wonder at the one true seer I ever met. She called herself Beve, and I
met her not long after my army swept through Athens on the final leg of successfully
conquering the Greek Empire. I refused to make Athens the capital city of my new empire
because of what they’d done to my homeland, during the Peloponnesian War. I ordered
Pericles and most of the statesman to be crucified and many of the Athenian halls torn
down and destroyed. I felt my destiny click into place on the day I watched them destroy
the marble architecture of my enemies.
Atrius, who
heard the woman tell of her visions, brought Beve into my tent that evening. He thought
her predictions real enough to bring her to my attention. As I sat across from her, an
amused, wine induced smile on my face, she told me things that I thought impossible, some
merely impossible for her to know. Strangely enough, every single word the woman told me
eventually came true over the passing years.
I was
overcome with an uncharacteristic sadness on the day that I heard they stoned her, along
with a woman by the name of Hypatia. I think part of the reason for their unnecessary
deaths could have been the fact that they were popular women in a male dominated society,
but mostly, I believe they were murdered because their visions of the future made them
different. Frighteningly enough, being different in today’s society, caused fear,
then anger, then rage, usually inciting the passions of the mob.
“Are
you an oracle, then?” I asked Gabrielle, who was still patiently waiting for my
comment.
“Oh,
no, I only have…dreams sometimes, and sometimes the things end up happening like they
did in my dreams, but not always.” Gabrielle answered.
I kissed her
forehead. “It would be all right if you were a seer. You know that, right?”
“Thank
you, Xena,” the young woman breathed a heavy sigh of relief at my answer. “I
know how people feel about such things. When I was a small child, I told my mother about a
dream I had that came true. She told me never to speak of it again. After I was sold into
slavery, when I would have these visions come to me, I always kept them to myself, for
fear of being branded as a priestess of Hecate.”
“Gabrielle,
you don’t have to keep these things to yourself any longer. I’ll always listen,
and no one else ever has to know.” I smiled at her.
“I’m
so glad to know that, Xena. When I was a teenager, I saw the men of an Ambracian village
hang a woman for her visions. I’ve always been too afraid to tell anyone my secret,
until now.” She finished, looking into my eyes. I saw love and trust in that gaze,
and my heart ached over the seasons of pain this lovely woman had to endure.
“People
can have such small minds sometimes. They only want to know what has always gone on
before, what has always been. Change frightens them, Gabrielle; anything different
frightens them.” I commented.
“It is
so much more so for slaves, Xena.”
I watched
the young woman’s face, yet Gabrielle didn’t say this out of meanness or to
chide me. It was obvious that she was more accepting of our slave/master relationship,
perhaps more resigned at what she thought of as fate, than I. Here it was then, our first
words about the issue that hung silently between us. What could I honestly say that would
not be a lie, for that, I would not do to her. Yet, she didn’t ask me for her
freedom, did she?
“You do
know, Gabrielle…I…I don’t think of you that way…as a slave.” I
was simply trying to tell her how I felt.
“Yet…I
am.” Gabrielle answered softly, not a hint of spite or anger in her reply. She was
simply stating a fact.
My young
lover, unlike myself, was resigned to the reality that she was in love with, and loved by,
a woman who owned her, a woman who, when it came right down to it, was her master. There
wasn’t much either one of us could say after that simple phrase. I would spend the
rest of my days in this mortal realm, cursing my own selfishness and the outcome it was to
bring about.
*********************
Gabrielle
and I enjoyed our days, not to mention our nights together. She was still the model of
civility to me in public, but in private, she was becoming open and fun loving, even
learning that she could tease me. She continued to beat me at King’s Men on a regular
basis, my pride refusing to ask how she was able to consistently perform such a task. When
at last I grudgingly accepted the idea that Gabrielle’s mind was better suited to the
game than mine, I inquired as to how she employed her strategy. The rather amazing thing,
was that she beat me every time from a knowledge, not of what she would do in six future
moves, but in knowing what I would do. She was reading me, not the board. Very
simply, she told me my arrogance made my moves predictable, once my King was in trouble.
Even more ironic, was the fact that it was this very ability that led me to conquer
Greece. I was able to read and predict people, just as Gabrielle seemed to have a feel for
them. Only, somewhere along the way, I lost touch with people, and therefore, the ability
to know them.
She enjoyed
her growing friendships with Anya, Sylla, and Delia. I neither said nor did anything to
discourage the relationships she was forming. I knew friendships were important to the
young woman, they were a new experience, and I was quickly discovering, my Gabrielle loved
a new experience. Her life as a slave left her little time, nor inclination, to make
friends. I kept my opinions to myself and hoped she was smart enough to know that she had
to take care regarding those who would befriend her. There were always people who would
hurt or even use her to get to me.
Gabrielle
was a relatively good judge of character, however. Because of this, I never thought to
question her as to who exactly she spent how much time with. I was learning to trust, and
even surprised myself, simply because that was very new for me. I never cared for her
friendships with Carra, however.
Carra was a
slave, but that had little to do with my dislike of her. She was captured as a very young
woman, part of the spoils of war, from one of the many battles my army and I fought, in
lands far to the north. Gods, what country! The land was beautiful for perhaps two or
three moons of the year, and then grew cold and icy. The snow, which I previously only saw
on mountaintops, covered their entire country during the winter spells. Surely the Goddess
of their people suffered a similar fate to Persephone, but the God who kidnapped her must
not have been as easy going as Hades, to let her return to the earth for half the season.
It was a murderous campaign, and the men and women of their armies were huge, hulking
people, whom the bitter cold did not appear to affect. Their weapons were stronger and
larger, yet their battle strategies were pitiful. It was only that fact that led to my
eventual victories. I left that country without adding it to my already growing realm. I
took slaves, resources, and precious booty, but left the inhospitable land, vowing never
to return if I could help it.
Carra had a
look in her eye that spoke, not only of pain she suffered, but also of pain she would like
to inflict. It was not a new expression to me; I’d spent most of my life with that
look, burning from my blue orbs. It was a thirst for revenge. However, Gabrielle saw
someone in need of a friend, and I found it, a little harder every day I must admit, to
deny my little one anything.
Carra was a
tall, strong, dark-haired woman, and I attributed my feelings to jealousy more than
anything else. It was the way she looked at Gabrielle that I never cared for, but I held
my tongue, not wanting to appear the jealous lover. Perhaps if I’d voiced my
concerns, Gabrielle would have been more aware, not quite so trusting. If I’d broken
my silence, Gabrielle might not have suffered so much hurt, not only at Carra’s
hands, but also by my own.
My days
began to be completely dominated by the trial of Kassandros and his men. I could have
simply declared them guilty, after all, they all confessed, quite eagerly I must say, once
Demetri’s lifeless body was paraded in front of them. I had it in my mind to put them
on trial for their illegal slavery tactics, a fair and unbiased one, not some mock court
procedure, and to use the trial as a precedent to banish and outlaw slavery within the
Greek Empire.
It would
have to be prepared with care. I didn’t want an uprising over the issue, so I spent
long hours with my advisors, running messages throughout the entire Empire to men and
women of position and power, who I knew to be loyal to me. A full moon passed before I
received the answers I needed. With the exception of a few dissenters, who would stand
behind me nonetheless, the majority of the people who held any kind of power in the land,
agreed to my concepts.
It would not
be an easy task. There were those who truly believed that fate made certain people slaves
because they were not able to take care of themselves, that they weren’t as smart, or
as capable as the people who owned them. It was because of this that I told no one but my
advisors, and the key people around the Empire, of my plan. Even Gabrielle did not hear of
the plan from my lips.
I thought it
would truly be the ultimate gift to her if I could announce, not only her freedom, but
also an end to slavery throughout the realm. I prepared myself as best I could for the
eventuality that Gabrielle would want to leave me. She was a young woman and had her whole
life ahead of her. I, on the other hand, was nearing my journey’s end, finally
realizing that my love for Gabrielle, would not allow me to cage her like a pet.
It was
because of something Delia said to me that I charted my course of action. The older woman
cajoled me on a daily basis regarding Gabrielle’s freedom. Once I voiced all my fears
to her, she reminded me of the golden eagle that still lived in the hills and forest
outside my palace.
An
accidental bowshot downed the animal some fifteen seasons ago. We were out hunting and the
huge shadow that covered us spooked the horses, and scared the wits out of one young
archer. His shot went wide, but caught the bird’s wing and it fell from the sky.
Thinking to put it out of its misery, I jumped from my horse, but realized, with a little
care, the wound might not be life threatening.
That began a
journey for both the young bird and myself. I fancied myself quite a falconer and began
the conditioning necessary to prepare the bird for training, but this bird was not to be
trained so easily. Its wounds healed, but it would only obey half my commands, ignoring me
the rest of the time. After a full season, I realized the creature was quite like myself.
This is how I would be in captivity, isn’t it? I was born free and would never be
able to forget the fact, nor completely bow to anyone. Because of this revelation, I took
the bird out one day, and with a heavy heart at losing such a magnificent creature, I
removed his hood, untied the anklets that held the jesses to his legs, and finally removed
his leash. It was the first time in captivity that he was without his leash and he
didn’t know quite what to make of it. He looked rather like a child about to dive
into the deep end of the pond for the first time.
At last, I
threw him into the air and he took flight. He circled for a long time, swooping closer to
see if I would toss out the lure as I had in training. After some time, he flew off. I
stood there for quite some time just in case, but he was free now and able to make his own
choice. At that moment in my life, that profound thought made a difference in me. Although
it would be a great many seasons, before the thought would be put to good use again.
On the day I
spoke with Delia regarding Gabrielle, the older woman reminded me of what happened the
next day, on a crisp fall morning. The screeching of the massive bird brought me from the
castle, glove fixed firmly on my hand. When I raised my arm, the bird glided gracefully to
the perch, the muscles in my arm straining to bear the weight of the creature whose
wingspan was easily the length of my body. He sat there regarding me and accepted a few
tidbits of meat from my hand; it was quail, his favorite. The bird flew off again, but he
circled the castle once as if to say that he knew this was home. Delia said he was letting
me know that his heart would always be here, therefore, he would always return.
We built
suitable shelter and sanctuary for him outside the palace walls, and he came and went as
he pleased. It was the remembrance of this time, which made up my mind about Gabrielle.
Late one evening, as we lay together in bed, I decided to let Gabrielle fly free. I knew,
however, that unlike the eagle that still came to my gloved hand, my small slave might
choose not to return. I also understood that although I was able to deal with the loss of
the magnificent creature from my life, I would not fare so well if Gabrielle left. If she
were to leave, I realized that my life would never know joy again, and if she stayed, it
would never experience greater happiness.
*********************
The trial
went on for much longer than I expected. I would end my days, completely exhausted from
listening to, and ruling on points, that the two magistrates argued back and forth. Of
course, this being the case that I would use as a precedent to put my new law into effect,
I had to keep going back to my libraries to reference scrolls. Reaching my limit one day,
I sent a messenger to find Gabrielle, telling her to pull two particular scrolls and send
them to me. It was with some surprise that she not only found the scrolls, but also did it
in half the time it would have taken me. The young woman became invaluable at referencing
material and soon, I found that she was scribing the sketchy notes I made during the trial
onto scrolls in the evening, so I might read them easier the next day. The ironic part
about Gabrielle’s involvement was that, although I could have used her abilities down
in the Great Hall, where the trial was being conducted, slaves were not allowed to enter
the room unless they were directly involved in the trial.
Therefore,
it was no surprise that I was somewhat oblivious to the change in Gabrielle’s
behavior. I noticed for the past few days she was quieter than usual, but she would smile
and shrug off my concerns. If my mind hadn’t been quite so focused on the damned
trial, I might have learned the truth before the palace was thrown into such chaos.
I rose even
earlier than usual one morning, spending the time in my study with the scrolls Gabrielle
transcribed for me the night before. I smiled when I realized that it was I who fell
asleep, for a change, waiting for Gabrielle to come to bed. She sat up late, copying my
notes by the light of the candle, leaving them in the middle of my desk, so I would find
them first thing this morning.
The sun was
not yet up, when shouts could be heard, not only throughout the palace, but outside in the
courtyard as well. I armed myself and stepped into the hall, nearly running into a young
soldier.
“What
in Hades is going on?” I yelled.
“The
slaves, Lord Conqueror…some are causing trouble, a few have already escaped beyond
the palace walls.”
“How
many is some?” I asked quickly.
“Twenty-five…maybe
fifty.” He answered, looking nervous and rattled.
Half a dozen
slaves were trouble; fifty…well, fifty was an uprising. Ares balls! Why now, I was so
close, this could ruin everything. I grabbed the youth by the shirt and pushed him off in
the opposite direction.
“Go
find Captain Atrius--”
“Aye,
Lord Conqueror...” I heard the familiar voice already behind me.
I turned to
find Atrius leading six members of the royal guard and Delia.
“Here,
here, and here,” the Captain indicated the entrances to our rooms, stationing guards
at each point.
“I came
to be with Gabrielle,” Delia stated simply and I knew there was no point in arguing.
Atrius,
Delia, and I entered the outer room and I opened the door to the bedchambers to find
Gabrielle already putting on her robe.
“I hear
shouting.” Gabrielle said with a worried frown.
“It’s
all right, love. It seems some of the slaves have staged a small revolt--”
“Oh
no!” Gabrielle cried out.
I wrapped my
arms around her trembling figure. “Shhh, it’s not that bad. I’ve got to get
down there, Gabrielle, but Delia is in the other room, she’s come to stay with you,
and there are guards at all the doors to our rooms. Don’t worry,” I kissed her
forehead. “I’m going to try my best to see that no one gets hurt.”
I hugged her
and walked through the door to the outer room, Gabrielle tying her robe and trailing
behind me. It was unlike the small woman to forget there were others in the room, but when
I opened the door to leave, she cried out.
“Xena.”
I turned,
and she held such a look of fright in her face that I moved to sweep her in my arms once
again. I kissed her one more time.
“It
will be all right, little one.” I said and pushed her toward Delia. I left the room
with a backward glance at my young slave, only to watch as tears slid down her face.
*********************
Two
candlemarks. As slave revolts go, it was probably the shortest one on record. They
weren’t very well organized and had no weapons. A few guards got the stuffing knocked
out of them, but with the exception of a few cuts and bruises, there were no casualties on
either side. I was adamant about the fact that no slaves were to be harmed. I know how
soldiers operate, I made sure every man and woman that made up the six squads, was aware
of my order.
I sat
heavily in the chair in the Great Hall that served as throne. A serving girl brought me a
hot mug of tea and I sat alone and in silence as the sun came up. As Apollo’s chariot
pulled the burning orb up into the sky, I watched the shadows on the floor creep away,
until the whole room was bathed in brilliant light. Scuffling and cursing broke out behind
me and I knew they were bringing her before me for sentencing. Slaves, unlike free men,
received no trial. They were either guilty or they weren’t and in this case, part of
me was glad, the other part cursing myself for what I was about to do. I finally looked up
from my musings, to notice Atrius and four guards holding the prisoner in chains before
me. It didn’t surprise me in the least that the leader of the slave revolt was
Gabrielle’s friend, Carra.
One of her
eyes was swollen shut and she had a number of small cuts on her, but nothing she
wouldn’t recover from. She was pushed from behind to kneel to me and she spit at my
boots.
“You
may think you own me, but you don’t!” she hissed.
I took a
deep breath, trying not to let the woman’s words affect me. How can I condemn or
punish slaves now that I have Gabrielle? I felt that every decision I made would have an
emotional impact on the relationship between the small blonde and myself.
“So,
what am I to do with you now, Carra?” I asked seriously.
I think the
tone of my voice confused her. She furrowed her brow and continued to glare at me.
“You
can no longer be trusted as a slave within this palace, but there are few laborers who
will take a woman, especially one who incites the other slaves to riot. You leave me with
few choices.”
“Go
ahead and crucify me,” she spat, “I know you’re dying to. Bet you
won’t be so quick to nail your little plaything to a cross, though.”
“And
what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, assuming she meant Gabrielle.
She laughed
then and just stared up at me defiantly. “Are you forgetting, Conqueror? Your
precious Gabrielle is a slave, too. If the slaves mutiny, do you really think your
personal slave wouldn’t know about it?”
The comment
took me absolutely by surprise. I never even considered that Gabrielle would know.
Suddenly I was remembering the young woman’s terrified reaction to the news. She
didn’t act surprised…only frightened.
“You’re
thinking about it now, aren’t you Conqueror? Ever think about what else your slut and
I did together?”
I slowly
rose from my chair. I towered over the still kneeling woman, remembering the way I ordered
the chains removed from Kassandros, so that I could make him pay for his comments about
Gabrielle. My mouth opened to speak and I realized that this slave almost beat me. She
almost caused me to lose my temper along with my focus. I should have been immune to
childish taunts, but for a moment, I let her get the better of me.
I slumped
back into my chair, that same confused expression plastered on her face. That’s when
I let the thought in my brain, the nagging kernel of half-truth that this slave planted in
my brain regarding Gabrielle, possess me. It didn’t take long for the idea to
germinate and, like the roots of a tenacious plant, take hold of my conscious mind.
“Get
her out of here.” I ordered between clenched teeth.
The guards
looked at Atrius. “Her punishment, Lord Conqueror?”
“Did
you hear me order a punishment?” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Throw her
in a cell and get her out of my sight!”
When they
dragged her from the room, and I was once more left in silence, I looked down to see that
my nails left their imprints in the wooden armrests of my chair. I sat there for quite
some time, at first thinking of nothing, finally thinking too many different thoughts, all
of them centering around Gabrielle. I believe a long time passed before I heard a noise at
my elbow and saw that it was Atrius. As always, he intuitively knew when to leave me
alone, and how long it would take for my initial anger to pass.
“Lord
Conqueror?” He queried respectfully.
“Yes?”
I answered in a low tone.
“I feel
that I must be the one to speak with you regarding this matter…for two reasons.”
Atrius said stiffly.
“And
what do you have to say?” I refused to meet his eyes.
“She’s
not the only one saying it, Lord Conqueror,” Atrius finally said in a tired voice.
“Two others we rounded up said they heard the same thing. The slaves across the
palace are talking and by nightfall, with the way gossip travels in here, everyone will
have heard.”
I breathed a
heavy sigh, trying to force the anger inside me down to a manageable level. It rose up
like bile in my throat and my head began to throb with the effort of containing it. I rose
and walked over to one of the windows, glancing outside. The day was so beautiful; it was
hard to realize that my love and my dreams were shattering inside of me.
“Atrius?”
“Yes,
Lord Conqueror.”
“What
were they? You said there were two reasons why you needed to be the one to tell
me.” I asked, seeking explanation.
“Because
I knew the temptation would be great to kill the messenger. I hoped that after twenty
seasons, I would fare better.” He said with a wry smile. “The other reason is
that I genuinely like that girl. I think that if Gabrielle did know, she must have had a
good reason for not revealing it,” my Captain answered.
“Do you
honestly believe that, Atrius?” I asked him.
“Yes,
Lord Conqueror, I do.”
I turned
from the window and walked past him, out of the hall. I wasn’t sure I was heard as I
passed him by.
“That’s
good…I’m not sure if I do.”
*********************
I stood in
front of the open balcony in the outer room, looking out onto the landscape, but not
really seeing anything. I sent a guard looking for Gabrielle the moment I entered the
rooms and found her gone. It wasn’t long before I heard the sound of the door
opening. It wasn’t long enough, however, because I was nowhere near ready to do this.
I would ask and she would answer, and it would be over. How could I have left myself open
for this heartache? My bruised ego and wounded heart left me feeling heart sick and sorry
for myself. That feeling was quickly being replaced with anger. Gabrielle made her choice;
she would have to live with the consequences. Like a child with no ability to reason
whatsoever, I saw the situation in only one light. I knew only that Gabrielle chose her
slave friends over me, and when I turned, my arms folded across my chest, directing my
angry gaze in her direction, she realized that I knew.
I watched as
her expression changed from loving concern, to fear, and then finally, resignation.
“My
Lord.” She bowed her head in submission.
Part of me
hoped it was in regret, but that small part of me was becoming more miniscule with the
passing moments. I could feel that old anger bubbling just under the surface, waiting to
rise up and engulf me. The beast was pacing like a panther in an iron cage.
I clenched
my jaw tightly, raising my head up to stare at the ceiling, while I took deep even
breaths. “Gabrielle, I have been given distressing news and I want you to either
confirm or deny it.” I said in an ominous low tone, that I’m sure she
hadn’t heard me use before, at least not directed at her.
“Did
you know of the slave revolt, before it happened?” I asked, my voice tight and
controlled.
“Was
anyone hurt?” she asked quickly.
“Did
you know?” I demanded again, through clenched teeth.
Gabrielle
looked up and I watched as her eyes filled with tears, spilling out to run down her
cheeks. Under normal circumstances, the sight would have caused my own heart to break, but
now there was only anger. I’m sure it was apparent, even to Gabrielle, that the Xena
she loved was being trampled and overcome by the Conqueror.
“Yes.”
She answered softly, lowering her head again.
“And
you care so much more for Carra than me, that you refused to warn me?”
“No.”
Gabrielle’s head popped up. “Xena, I love you…”
I merely
arched an eyebrow at the admission as she stumbled on.
“I
didn’t know what to do…I couldn’t…I couldn’t tell. She…I
needed to prove to her that…that I was her friend.”
I quickly
turned my back and pounded my fists loudly into the table. “Gabrielle, do you know
what you’ve done? I am working day and night to prepare a trial to put in place laws
to banish slavery, and now this!” My voice grew louder with every word and I knew
that if I turned around, Gabrielle would be staring at me in surprise.
“Now,
how do I tell the people that slaves are no different from them, mean them no harm, after
something like this?!” Again, I slammed my fist into the table, until it was numb,
feeling my fury inching closer to the surface.
When I
turned around, Gabrielle could only stare at someone she could barely recognize. I could
see it in her face.
“I
didn’t know what to do,” she cried. “I wanted her to have a friend…to
show her that she could trust me,” she finished.
“Trust?
I trusted you!” I shouted back at her. “You didn’t believe that I changed,
did you? You thought the Conqueror would sweep down and nail those slaves to crosses,
didn’t you?”
That’s
when she gave me a look that was filled with an incredible sadness. She didn’t have
to agree; I saw the truth of it acknowledged in her eyes. I narrowed the space between us,
feeling my whole body trembling with rage.
“You’re
right,” she answered, “but my mistrust of you is no more than what you still
feel of me, Xena.”
“I
trusted you with my life!” I shouted.
“Only
not with my freedom.”
Her answer
was spoken so calmly, so softly, that she came across as a woman already condemned, and so
she was. I could no longer hold back the demon inside me. The beast clamored for a release
to the white-hot fury that was the truth of my actions. I would hold myself accountable
for every heartbeat of every day for my next act.
I was no
longer in control of my body, and I watched as if outside myself, as my arm lashed out and
struck Gabrielle across the cheek. Regret instantly burned through me like hot metal, even
as I saw the hand in motion, but I was not in control enough to halt its movement.
It
wasn’t a punch, and I suppose I attempted to pull back enough so that it was simply a
hard slap, but the deed had been done all the same. Gabrielle stood there, steadfastly
refusing to fall to her knees. The look in her eyes seemed to mock me, telling me that she
knew one day I would strike her.
Breathing
hard, I wheeled away from her, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath, my eyes
focused on the hand I held before me. I could only stand there and stare at my right hand,
five seasons of control, wasted in a heartbeat. How long I stood there looking down at my
hand, I couldn’t remember, but I knew I couldn’t even bring myself to look in
her eyes. The weight of what I’d done, falling on me heavily, I continued to stare,
transfixed, at that one hand. Finally clenching my fingers into a fist, I hissed.
“Get
out!”
Just before
I heard the door open, Gabrielle poured salt in the open wound by uttering the cruelest
words I ever heard her say.
“Yes,
Lord Conqueror.”
Next week...the exciting conclusion to Journey's End...beginning with Chapter 17: I Had Been Hungry All The Years