Meleager glared at her. "Well what about you, huh? Seem to have your relationship well in hand."

The bard blushed a deep crimson. "That’s um, not the same thing."

"Oh?" the aging warrior pressed on. "Explain how?"

"Because we aren’t…" Gabrielle stammered, "I mean, we haven’t … I mean, I’m sure we will, but…"

At this, Solari’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait a minute! When did this happen?" she asked, with a hint of exasperation.

"Uh, it didn’t," the bard continued to stammer, "I mean, it did, but we couldn’t … so we haven’t…"

Gabrielle stopped walking and took a deep breath. She looked at the warrior and Amazon staring at her expectantly, then crossed her arms and stared right back. "Right now the most important thing is protecting this caravan," she stated. "Xena and I both accept that. Maybe it’s not convenient, but that’s the way it is. Clear?"

Solari and Meleager looked at each other, pieces of the puzzle falling together in both their minds. They nodded. The Amazon addressed her Queen. "Crystal clear."

"Good," Gabrielle said flatly. She extended her arm down the road. "Shall we continue?"

"Please," Meleager said, turning and hiding his grin.

Gabrielle reached for something else to talk about, then asked. "So, Meleager, what did you do to help the Amazons? Why did they owe you a favor?"

Meleager hemmed and hawed. "Oh that … Wasn’t much really."

"Oh Meleager, please," Solari chuckled. "You’re the farthest thing from modest. Even I know this one – I was a just a girl then, but I was there, remember? Just tell the Queen."

"Yeah … well, OK," the bearded warrior grinned. "Guess it was over twenty summers ago, when Melosa’s mother, Tarendel, was Queen. A warlord, Abraxus, invaded the territories, and well, the Amazons had just finished defending themselves from another invader a month or so before, so they were a little weak and couldn’t just fight him off. They decided to hole up inside the walls and wait him out until help arrived from other settlements. Lucky enough, Abraxus was kind of full of himself – he started his attack before the heavy weapons could catch up to him. I found out about it and captured the big stuff before it even reached the territories. Part of the whole ‘helping people out thing’, you know?"

Solari rolled her eyes. "OK. Hadn’t thought about it like that. The Amazons have always figured you just wanted to prove your worth so you could ask for gold. Maybe you did do it just to help out. Very noble."

Meleager took the ribbing and smiled. "Anyway, I had my troops bring the weapons into Amazon territory and attacked Abraxus’ camp with them by surprise from behind – and boy, was he surprised…"

"That was brilliant!" Gabrielle beamed.

"Nah, actually, it was kind of dumb," Meleager reflected. "I barely had enough troops to man the weapons. When he realized what was happening, of course he turned and attacked us. Guess I was a little … eager too. I mean, I’d been a warrior for years, but this was one of the first times I’d led troops in the field. I’d been on my own for a long time, and, well, leading an army … that takes a different kind of mind set."

Meleager shook his head and grinned. "Anyway," he continued, "as it happened the Amazons took that moment to come out of the city and rout what was left of Abraxus’ men."

"Of course we did," Solari huffed in pride. "It took advantage of the divided forces."

"Yeah well," Meleager rubbed his chin. "I just wish I could say I’d thought that far. I guess it worked out in the end though."

"Well, I think it was very brave," Gabrielle said proudly.

Meleager chuckled. "There’s a fine line between being brave and being stupid, kid. I learned that lesson the hard way. Lost some good men that day." He looked at his hand, balled it into a fist.

Gabrielle watched him, thinking how much different he was from the cocksure, compulsive liar she’d known before. Sure, she’d always known there was a noble warrior underneath it all – he was her childhood hero, and she had a scroll full of stories to back it up – but hadn’t realized just how much his drinking had stolen from him until now. You really are a good man Meleager, whether you know it or not. Lilith has every right to call you a ‘dear one’.

Then he smiled again and turned back to Gabrielle. "Anyway, the irony is that Queen Tarendel was, you know, kind of touched I was willing to risk my troops to help them. It seems no man had ever done that before," he added with just a hint of boastfulness. "Between that and helping them rebuild, I earned their trust enough to mediate a couple of treaties, and finally, she gave me this…" He reached into his shirt and pulled out a medallion.

Gabrielle looked at it closely. Although the design was vastly different from her own, it had the same crystal in the center that marked it as Amazon. The inscription around the outer edge read, "By order of Queen Tarendel, the Amazon nation grants Meleager of Calydon safe passage."

"You must have really made an impression," Gabrielle said, voice full of admiration. "I thought they only did that once – for Hercules."

"Yeah, well, I guess I oughta point out who got theirs first," Meleager responded with a low drawl, bouncing a little as he slipped the medallion back inside his shirt. He leaned close to Gabrielle. "You know, I think Tarendel had a crush on me."

"Oh please!" Solari gagged.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and chuckled too. Maybe she did Meleager. Maybe she did…

* * *

Morgin continued her story as the horses drank their fill. "Working in a brothel often leaves you with a lot of free time. I knew how to read, and began devouring every scroll I could lay my hands on. I read stories, history, some philosophy. Although I’d always known it was possible to be something more than a slave I hadn’t really thought about much before then, and reading the stories of heroes and the works of great scholars awakened something in me. I began wishing something more for myself, to make my mark on the world, live a life that was mine, and not one that belonged to someone else."

The guardian took a moment to snatch a big horsefly out of the air that had been tormenting Dumuzi, then resumed. "A few years later I was sold to a nobleman named Irydus – although I use the term loosely. I had been punished before, but he was the first who seemed to enjoy doing so. I was whipped and beaten regularly, often for nothing at all, just because it amused him. Still, he didn’t keep me for very long, nor did any I was sold to after him. I had begun to despise my lot as a slave. To be so maltreated only strengthened my resolve. Even before I left the brothel I began demanding some pleasure for myself, later I demanded that I be treated as a human being and not as an animal, or piece of furniture. I fought back no matter how badly they punished me. It might sound odd, but I found strength through my slavery – I realized they could do as they wished to my body, but never touch who I was inside."

Some part of Xena wished she’d never asked for Morgin’s story. It didn’t help that the guardian told it calmly, even with a hint of amusement, as if none of it mattered now – the ex-warlord felt her soul being wrenched with every word. She was hearing the consequences of her ruthless ways from one who’d been through it. True, Xena hadn’t been personally responsible for Morgin’s life, but she had been responsible for too many others with similar fates, and she listened with the determination of a penitent being scourged.

At that moment, Morgin paused. "Is that bruise still bothering you?" she asked, with genuine concern.

"Don’t worry about it," the warrior shrugged. She opened the saddlebag and retrieved the jar of salve. "You were saying?"

Morgin shrugged. "Anyway, about that time – it was ten summers ago, I think I was seventeen – I began to plan, to look for a way out. One day I was left alone and unbound and I escaped through a kitchen window and ran from the house, and the city, and into the desert. It wasn’t a good plan…" The guardian gave a wry chuckle, then dipped her fingers into the stream. "My reading was sadly deficient in some areas. I knew little of the lands around me, like exactly where the next city was. I didn’t even bring more than a couple of skins of water. I wandered for days. I was careful with the water – I wasn’t stupid – but I got hopelessly lost."

Both horses seemed to have satisfied their thirst, and with a brief look and a nod, the two women mounted up and rode on at a fast walk. "The desert was flat and lifeless," Morgin continued, "but at some point I noticed a mountain and headed for it, hoping to find shelter from the sun. As I got closer though, I saw a figure standing on an outcropping halfway up the cliff. It took hours for me to reach that mountain of bare rock, and it never moved, not once. At first I thought I was seeing things … again."

Morgin urged her mount over a root, then flashed Xena a grin. "By then I was plagued with visions from the heat. Yet this one persisted and I was convinced it was real, probably something carved from the rock, since the color was the same. I was weak and tired, but it fascinated me, and I determined to climb there and see it more closely. A courtesan’s life hadn’t made me fit or strong, but I had nothing else to do, so I made myself try. It took a full day and the last of my water but I finally made it, my hands and knees scraped raw as I collapsed, exhausted at her feet. She wore a gown of white, which flapped lightly in the breeze, yet she was totally immobile and covered with a layer of fine, wind-blown sand – even her eyes. I couldn’t understand why anyone would clothe a statue, or leave it in so desolate a place. It seemed to have been there for many years."

The guardian gave wry chuckle, shook her head. "I didn’t know what to make of it, but my strength was failing, and I realized this was where I had come to die. I was saddened to think I was dying alone, with no one to know or care of my passing, never to make any difference in the world." Morgin slowed her horse. "I looked up at that face, so serene and beautiful yet hauntingly sad, and decided she had to be an idol of some kind. So I knelt before her and prayed…"

Morgin paused, Dumuzi coming to a full stop. Xena reigned Argo to a halt as well, watching the guardian as she inhaled slowly. Morgin looked up, her eyes searching the past. "I told her I had nothing to offer, nothing but myself, and that I wasn’t worth much. Yet I promised if she gave me leave to stay with her for eternity in that place, treat me well and grant me peace, I would love and serve her forever in the next life."

Morgin looked at Xena, the guardian’s eyes moist above her grin. "And as consciousness left me, I remember, as clearly as I see you now, what I thought would be the last thing I would ever behold … she looked at me, and smiled."

* * *

"So, that’s Kesan," Gabrielle observed as they rounded a stand of trees. The small city had grown next to where the river met the sea, and its walls were high and seemed well-maintained. By looks and reputation, Kesan was a quiet, restful place.

"Sure is," Meleager replied. "I led the defenses here once, Captain of the Guard." The aging warrior gave a half grin. "Well, OK, I was a lot younger then. Passed through there just a couple of months ago though, and Thesocles still runs things. We’ll all sleep in beds tonight … and you’re welcome."

Solari snorted. "Find me a bath and a decent masseuse, oh Meleager the Mighty, and then I’ll thank you. A simple bed in a city ain’t much of an accomplishment – it’s not like I don’t have a few dinars on me. Gods, when I really need a bed, I can usually get one with a wink and a smile," she said playfully

Meleager rolled his eyes. "I’ll see what I can do … Uhhh, Amazons!"

Gabrielle giggled. "OK, OK – Meleager, it’s your job to get everyone safe lodging, and make sure we can stay for a few days. Solari … just try to keep the Amazons under control, OK? We’ve already got enough of a reputation as tough drunks with a lech for the locals, and now here we are riding in with a caravan of, um, sexually eager priestesses. It’s a good chance to unwind, but don’t let it get out of hand, got that?"

"Your word is law, my Queen," Solari replied, feigning seriousness. "I’ll pass that around."

"Just don’t pass anything – or anyone – else around," Gabrielle replied, fighting back a blush. "And, I guess I should have a word with Lilith. C’mon, forward…"

* * *

Late in the night the warrior and the guardian sat across from each other around a small fire, their simple meal finished. "Do you wish me to continue?" Morgin asked. "I’m not that tired, but if you wish to sleep…"

Xena pulled out her whetstone and set about sharpening her sword. "Go ahead," she answered simply. Morgin’s story had tweaked points of guilt inside Xena the ex-warlord had tried to forget were there, and a few she hadn’t known were. Still, the warrior thought grimly, I’ll be damned if I stop listening now.

"In truth, there isn’t much more to tell," the guardian shrugged, then gave a smile. "However, since we have nothing but time…" She reached for her bedroll and resumed. "I awoke in a large, cool cave. I was confused for a bit – there were so many sensations, and I’d expected I wouldn’t feel anything ever again. The cave was well lit by lamps. I was lying on a soft mat, covered by a sheet of quilted silk. I realized I had been bathed, my sunburned skin treated with a soothing, fragrant oil, and I smelled food cooking. It took me some time, but eventually I raised my head and saw her, the one from the cliff, seated, relaxed, smiling at my feet. She had the ruddy glow of smooth skin, not the rock I thought she had been earlier. I thought sure it was the idol come to life." She chuckled. "In a way, it was."

Morgin settled over onto her side, staring into the fire. "I asked her if I was dead, and her smile widened. She said, ‘Do you wish to be?’" Morgin looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wasn’t afraid, but I asked what she meant, and she said, ‘To die is to be reborn. You offered to love and serve me in your next life. I tell you now that you are safe, and will soon be healthy. You have a choice as few ever do – go back to your old life as you see fit, or stay, and begin a new one.’"

Xena regarded the other woman for a moment. Morgin may have claimed to not be much of a storyteller, but she caught the cadence of Lilith’s voice almost perfectly.

"I know I didn’t really understand her," the guardian smiled, "but the choice … well, that I understood. I felt such compassion and love flowing from this woman, such complete acceptance, I made my decision in a heartbeat. Although I was still very weak I knelt forward until I was bowing low in the most submissive posture I knew – one I had never willingly taken before, with anyone – and begged to let me serve her. It was both the hardest, and the easiest thing I’ve ever done."

Xena blinked. ‘I could serve you…’ The warrior’s own words from so long ago echoed in her mind. Yeah, but I turned away, she thought, saddened and spiteful towards herself, went back to being just a slave – a slave to my anger, to my hatred…

Morgin didn’t seem to notice Xena’s attention waver and continued. "She knelt next to me, embracing me warmly, holding me as I shook with sobs. When they passed I was too weak to move, and she gently lay me back on the mat, drawing the covers up. Wiping away my tears, she said, ‘Those who would serve me do so by serving others, and this through serving themselves. Your first step is to become healthy and strong. Then I will teach you of yourself.’ She fed me some broth, and … ahhh…"

Morgin gave a sudden laugh, cocking her head at the warrior with a playful smile. "I tell you true, Xena – years later Lilith confessed she’d made the broth from desert mice, since she didn’t have any food of her own and they were all she could find."

The warrior smiled back. "Ah, that’s not so bad." She tried to relax. "You don’t want to hear some of the things I’ve had to eat."

Morgin rolled her eyes. "This I believe." Then she shook her head, staring into the fire. "Still," the guardian said softly, "it hardly mattered – she offered it with a care and devotion I’d never known before. I thought then it was the most wonderful thing I had ever tasted. I fell asleep in her arms."

Morgin sighed, then a moment later gave a yawn and rolled onto her back. "The rest is simpler. We spent a year in the desert, and she taught me so many things. She told you of her gifts, how she reads people, helps them feel?"

"Yeah," Xena nodded.

Morgin nodded back. "Learning from her was such pleasure. She filled me with the song of the Earth, showed me the pattern of all living things. It was wondrous, and I found my path with an ease that surprised me." She chuckled softly. "Though I confess it took time to separate the love I had for combat from my anger and desire for revenge."

Xena sighed. "Probably helped you were alone, with no … distractions."

"True," Morgin replied. "Yet I had her love, and felt the love of the Earth so keenly. I think we could have lived in a crowded market and it wouldn’t have mattered."

"Probably," Xena agreed ruefully. If only I could say the same. "Do you still love her?"

"More than anything," Morgin replied warmly. "Only the Earth brings me greater joy than her tiniest of smiles."

Xena paused. "But she’s sleeping with Meleager…"

Morgin chuckled. "Yes, she is." The smaller women shifted her head and looked at Xena. "And when I see the joy he brings her, I love him for it."

"I’d think you’d be…"

"Jealous?" Morgin smiled. "No. Lilith and I were lovers for a time, and I needed it then. It helped me heal, reclaim my self-worth, to learn that pleasure can be given in love, and not just taken. It’s possible we will be again, but it simply became … less important. I find pleasure in so many things now. I have her love always, and she will carry mine with her for eternity, but love takes many forms, and Lilith … Ahhh, Xena, she shares them all."

The guardian stared at the stars, eyes heavy with sleep. "She’s my teacher, and my guide. She gave me this life I have now, and in a way, I gave her hers – she stood on that rock for untold years before I woke her with my simple plea, and every day she thanks me for that gift. She is my mother, and my sister. She is my greatest friend. Who shares her bed or mine doesn’t matter. Do you see?"

Xena’s mind drifted back over those in her own life who had loved her, and the fewer still she had loved in return. "I guess I don’t know much about … love," she replied.

Morgin smiled. "I think you do."

The warrior raised an eyebrow. "And I think we need to get some sleep."

The guardian yawned. "I think you’re right." Morgin chuckled, then made sure her sword was within easy reach before settling back. "Thank you for listening, Xena."

"Yeah well, thanks for talking," the warrior responded automatically. Xena blinked again. Gabrielle used to end her stories with almost those exact words for most of the first year they had traveled together.

The warrior inhaled and stood. "I’ll check around once more. Good night."

Morgin shifted her blanket. "Good night Xena."

The warrior slipped quietly out of the camp. She made a slow circle of the perimeter, lost in thought, until for some reason she settled on remembering the first meal Gabrielle had ever fixed for the two of them.

Was it the second, or third night we were together? It had been a busy day. Xena was grimy and spattered with blood, and after starting the fire and satisfying herself that the girl was making a decent camp, the warrior had wordlessly headed for the nearby brook.

The wash had taken longer than it should have as Xena worked to calm herself down. True, the fight hadn’t been Gabrielle’s fault, but if the girl hadn’t tried to reason with the brigands, she wouldn’t have gotten close enough for one of them to grab her, and that had complicated things.

Then as her anger had cooled a little, Xena noted that she hadn’t exactly tried to hold the young bard back – partly from wry amusement at the girl’s naivete, and, at least partly, to teach the girl a lesson when talking didn’t do the trick and…

She got nabbed, the warrior finished her own thought.

This isn’t working, Xena had reflected, and not for the first time. I owe her. I know that. But she’s nothing but trouble, she won’t stop jabbering, and she’s clouding my judgement. She’s bound to get herself or both of us killed. Leave her at the next village and be done with it.

When she’d returned to camp, Xena had been a little surprised to see the young girl look up, then sheepishly walk around the fire, hand her a bowl, and resume her original spot – for once, without talking. The warrior had accepted the meal without even looking at it, still pondering where the next village might be as she sat on a log, staring at the fire while she absently took a bite.

Her chewing had suddenly slowed. She’d looked in the bowl. Just lumps of meat and vegetables, a slice of bread – stuff from the saddle bags and leftovers from earlier. Doesn’t taste right. "What’s in this?" the warrior had asked, warily.

"You don’t like it?" Gabrielle had asked back, all open-eyed disappointment.

Xena had chewed for a moment longer, warrior instincts checking – she’d later remember with guilt – for anything toxic. Finding nothing she could sense, she had chewed a little more, curious.

Like many things in her life, food wasn’t something Xena thought about much – not for a very long time. Years of overindulgence had long since given way to grim, brute necessity. Slowly, one after another, she had withdrawn from every physical sensation, every human feeling, every connection to anything. If it didn’t further her goals, she simply didn’t care.

Sure, for certain practical reasons she kept up appearances. She slept with her soldiers or anyone else she had to, but it had little to do with her own desire, holding out the promise of her body as a reward, so her troops would fight harder, or to make an alliance, or to smooth any number of rough edges. She collected gold and precious trinkets not because of her own greed, but because it made whole kingdoms try to outdo each other when they begged for mercy, and gave greedy mercenaries a reason to join her.

Inside, she might as well have been dead for all the interest she had in anything that happened to her. Nothing had mattered but the conquest. Some days it seemed like that was all she had known for as long as she could remember – and then one day, even that hadn’t mattered anymore.

Food had mattered least of all. It was a base concern. For years she’d made herself eat because her body didn’t work otherwise, and that was that.

But on this night, sitting in front of a campfire miles from nowhere, she took another bite, and thought about it. It had, she realized, simply taken her a moment to recognize the spices for what they were. It had taken moment more before she recognized … she enjoyed it.

She’d looked in the bowl again. This can’t the stuff from the bags. Yet it was. It had simply been prepared, not just cooked until it was fit to eat. Xena had rolled it around in her mouth, a long-dormant palate coming back into use. And prepared well…

Then she’d looked back at Gabrielle, saw the girl still standing there with the same saddened expression. Xena finally swallowed. "No," she began, "I mean, yes…" Annoyed, Xena had made herself quit stammering. "It’s fine," she said simply.

When the girl’s expression didn’t change, the warrior felt herself cringing inside. This is stupid. It’s just food. Then she heard herself say, "Actually, it’s … it’s good."

Gabrielle had brightened. "Really?"

The warrior had raised an eyebrow. Something about the girl’s smile was downright infectious. "Yeah, really," Xena assured her. She looked back at the bowl. "Thanks."

"Oh, you’re welcome," Gabrielle had bubbled, before attacking her own portion. "I can cook for you every night if you want. I wouldn’t mind at all – I mean, I’m used to cooking. Cooking is something I can do. You know, help pull my weight? If you really liked it?"

Xena had sighed, but gave an inward smile – her first in months. "All right. Deal."

And that was that – she’s done it ever since, Xena reflected, leaning back against a tree, looking up at the moon. Such a simple thing really. But then it seems like every day she shows me how my senses are good for something other than telling if there’s danger around – not to mention a few other things, like trust, and patience … and love. Leading me back from a world that’s gray and meaningless, sharing her light. She chuckled. Guess I heard the way to warrior’s heart was through her stomach. Who knew?

She sighed. Been away from you for a single day. By all the gods, miss you already –

A sudden sharp crack of wood on bone and a loud cry snapped the warrior out of her reverie. "Hades," she hissed, running back towards the camp.

She arrived at the low fire in time to see Morgin make short work of a stocky, badly armored man. A second already lay sprawled on the ground.

The guardian smiled as the warrior broke into the camp. "Not to worry," Morgin announced, flushed but not even breathing hard. "Common thieves, I think. Heard them coming long before they got here."

The warrior just nodded, turning the nearest one over with her booted foot. "Good work," she said absently. Yeah, just the usual thugs, she noted. So how come I didn’t…

Xena shut her eyes. Simple, dumb warrior, because you were out pining at the moon instead of patrolling. She turned to Morgin. "You all right?"

"Yes," the smaller woman replied. "Shall I check for others?"

Xena scanned the trees, listened. "No," she said finally. "There’s no one else. It’s just a couple of opportunists who saw the fire. Come on, let’s tie ‘em up. We’ll haul them to the road, leave them there. They’ll be out cold at least until morning."

The two thieves were trussed up in short order, and afterwards Xena made a careful, determined inspection of the surroundings before finally turning in. She lay down, balling up her fists under the bedroll with anger. Better straighten up and ride right, she yelled at herself. It’s not like this love thing hasn’t gotten you in trouble before. Get your head together now warrior – before you wake up with it separated from your shoulders…

Gabrielle stood on the highest tower of Castle Kesan, leaning lightly on her staff. Heights often bothered her, but not this morning. Dawn was just creeping over the horizon, and a steady breeze blew in from the sea. She smiled lightly, saying nothing. Even her normally quick imagination turned languidly in her mind, casually fitting words into poetic meter, but with no urgency.

Last night had been fun. Councilor Thesocles was a good natured and seemingly wise old man who had headed Kesan’s triumvirate ruling body for as long as anyone could remember. He had gladly provided everyone in the caravan with rooms, either in the castle or spread through a couple of the city’s inns – Solari and the rest of the Amazons even got their hot baths and masseurs. There had been a feast in the castle’s great hall, and over the course of the evening Gabrielle had eagerly related a number of tales, almost all of them about Xena since the warrior wasn’t there to protest.

The bard had enjoyed herself immensely. The food had been sumptuous and plentiful, the wine excellent, and the musicians talented. Safe and prosperous behind its stout, well-guarded walls, Kesan was the kind of city someone of moderate wealth would visit to relax in a spa, wander through fragrant gardens, or enjoy a play performed by some of the most talented troupes in Greece – which made the overwhelming applause Gabrielle had received even more special.

As she told her stories, Gabrielle would catch herself looking reflexively around the hall, searching for Xena, then smile inwardly at her force of habit. She had thought she would miss her warrior terribly, and she did, yet she also found a strange peace under it all. As usual she worried about Xena’s safety, and wished her partner could have been with everyone else to enjoy the festivities, but the strange ache she usually felt when they were separated just … wasn’t there.

Gabrielle had wondered about this for a while. It hadn’t worried her, exactly, but she had been puzzled. As the evening had gone on, the only bad feeling she had was a mild guilt over having such a good time while Xena was out on a forced ride looking after their safety. But even that was tempered by knowing that it was simply the way it had to be, and the warrior certainly would have wanted everyone to enjoy themselves. Gabrielle was able to put it aside entirely by thinking of ways she would make it up to Xena when the warrior came back, thoughts which even made her blush a few times. As the evening had continued, the bard realized she felt incredibly relaxed.

When the party had begun to die down, after the bard had performed what she made clear was her last story of the evening, it suddenly occurred to her why she felt so calm: Xena was coming back, and perhaps for the first time Gabrielle knew Xena was coming back. The lingering uncertainty that had gnawed at the young woman for over two years that someday Xena would disappear from her life forever, not through death or misfortune – although that would always be a real concern – but just because the warrior would choose to leave, that fear was gone. The simple knowledge that Xena loved her in return had lifted a weight that Gabrielle hadn’t even consciously known was there. That night, she had slept better than she had in ages, awakening well before dawn.

The sun was coming up, and if anyone had been there to see the young woman bathed in its rays, they would have been dazzled by the way it caught in the golden highlights of her hair, and in the soft green of her eyes as she turned from the sun to face north. "I love you Xena. Be safe."

* * *

"I count a hundred sixty," Morgin whispered solemnly.

"That’s about right," the warrior replied, her face grim.

"This isn’t good," the guardian said simply.

"No, it’s not," Xena shot back, sharper than she knew she should have.

From their concealed vantage point on a low hill above the camp, the two women watched the throng of men below them for a time longer in silence. The army was clearly well equipped, and judging by the drills a number of them were engaged in under the afternoon sun, many of them were well trained.

Perhaps a third seemed to be common slavers, the rest were clearly hired muscle. Xena recognized one of the banners. Pollux of Thera … professional and ruthless. The other mercenary flag she didn’t know by sight, but she could guess. Nanthes maybe, or Race. Both have joined up with Pollux at one time or another, and either is just as bad as he is. No, she reflected, this isn’t good.

"Come on," Xena said quietly, "let’s circle around. I want a better look at the far side of the camp."

"What are we going to do?" Morgin asked calmly. It wasn’t really a question.

The warrior set her jaw. Her eyes were like clear ice. "Figure a way out of this. That’s why we’re here."

It took them a good half-hour to find another spot where they could safely spy on the camp, evading patrols as they moved. Xena had to admit Morgin was good at it, and made a mental note to say so later. From the relative safety of the branches of a dense oak, the warrior let her tactician’s eyes take in every detail.

"Well," Morgin observed wryly, "they’re sparing no expense. I believe I’m flattered in a way."

Xena allowed herself a grim smile. This side of the camp housed a dozen low wagons, ten bearing large iron cages. The other two were loaded with neatly arranged rows of chains and manacles. Whoever was running this show clearly intended on taking the whole of Lilith’s caravan prisoner – and likely whoever survived trying to protect them as well.

"Xena," Morgin spoke up quietly, her voice serious again, "they have captives."

"I know," the warrior replied evenly. Fifteen or twenty women, girls, and young boys were slumped miserably inside two of the cages.

The guardian leaned forward. "We have to –"

"We can’t," Xena cut her off. "I’m sorry Morgin, but we can’t. Even if we could get in and out without any trouble, they’d catch us in an hour. Our only advantage now is that we know where this army is … and gods only know how long that’ll last."

The smaller woman closed her eyes and rested back against the trunk of the tree, seemed lost in thought. Xena went back to studying the layout of the camp. Gods, what she must think of me – abandoning someone to the same life she once had. But we can’t. There’s a whole army to track us … although if we could steal those wagons it would make two less for the slavers to use…

A grim smile slowly spread across the warrior’s face. Risky … might not make a difference, but then it might make all the difference. "All right Morgin, we’ll help them –" Xena held up her hand to silence the other woman. "We’ll help them as much as we can afford to. It’ll be dark in a few hours. We’ll sneak in and release them, get them outside the camp and away. But after that, they’re on their own."

Morgin exhaled, pursed her lips, then nodded. "Yes," she said simply. "And then they should scatter. To remain together would be foolish – you’re right, they’d be caught easily, and us with them. Besides," she said with a cold smile, "it’ll distract the army, force them to send out troops."

"No. You’ve got it wrong," Xena replied evenly, meeting her gaze, "I hope they catch us – in fact I’m counting on it. Now, I have to ask you, First Guardian…" Xena narrowed her eyes until her expression was as cold and predatory as a shark. "Are you ready to kill?"

* * *

Stophacles shook his head, trying to clear it – the knocking on the frame of the tent was boring straight into his skull. "This’d better be good," he muttered, rising groggily. He pulled on his tunic, then kicked at the pallet until Klytus stirred into drunken wakefulness. "Get your pants on," he hissed spitefully, not waiting until his partner complied before he collapsed into the chair facing the front of the tent. "Enter!" he bellowed.

The sergeant looked both worried and grim. "Sir, the slaves have escaped," he reported.

"What!" Klytus shouted, stumbling back onto the pallet as he drunkenly attempted to pull up his breeches.

Stophacles ignored him. "How?" he asked, glaring at the soldier.

"They had help," the sergeant replied. "By how many we’re not sure yet, but whoever it was they were good – all the guards on the western perimeter have been slaughtered, so have the men watching the cages. Never even had a chance to sound the alarm. None of them have been dead more than an hour, so they can’t have gotten far. We’ve already organized two parties to go after them and doubled the guard."

"Two!" Klytus shouted again, still struggling.

While patiently waiting for the sergeant to finish his report, Stophacles gripped the arms of his chair tighter and tighter, making himself listen until his knuckles turned white. At Klytus’ outburst, he stood so abruptly the chair tipped over behind him. "Good work," he growled. "Tell Pollux and Race we’ll join them shortly."

The sergeant nodded and left quickly. Before the flaps of the tent had even closed, Stophacles had grabbed Klytus by the front of his shirt. He dragged the smaller man over to the water barrel and forcefully dunked his head in a couple of times, then hauled him up and slapped him across the face, finally backhanding him for good measure.

"I need that brain of yours, so sober up – now," he commanded, voice full of quiet ice. "And get your pants on."

* * *

Jogging behind the small group of freed captives, Xena kept up quiet words of encouragement to keep them moving as quickly as possible without making too much noise. They headed along the main road west until they reached a fork that branched north. There, the warrior pulled them up short.

"All right," she said, glancing around to catch them all by the eyes, making sure her words were understood while checking for signs of panic. "Everyone, keep heading north. In fifteen or twenty minutes you’ll meet up with the other group at another crossroad – head west as fast as you can and don’t stop for anything. You’ll reach Gelph before morning. Got it?"

While the group mostly nodded, one older woman asked, "Aren’t you coming?"

"No," Xena replied. "Those slavers will be along any time. I’ll cover you, then follow. When you reach the other group, do whatever Morgin says. Now go!"

With some measure of relief, the warrior watched them turn and head up the road as quickly as the children could move. The plan was risky, but there was little choice. After freeing the captives, Xena and Morgin had broken them into two groups, with the most able-bodied following the guardian into the woods and heading directly north, then turning west. They would move slower through the woods, but the slavers who pursued them, who would likely be mounted and would have to follow the trail in the dark, would move slower still.

The warrior knew the pursuit that followed on the road would move quickly, giving her plenty of time to deal with them before joining Morgin. For the slavers, chasing down two groups meant they would either have to divide their search party or double the number they sent, and either way suited Xena just fine.

Here’s where it gets nasty, she thought, then caught herself staring down the road with a predatory grin she hadn’t used in a while. After a moment’s reflection, she relaxed and let the dark smile grow back. Originally she’d planned on taking cover in the trees and springing an ambush. Instead, she stayed where she was, standing even-footed in the center of the road. Let’s have some fun.

Less then a quarter of an hour later she heard the hoofbeats, then a party of fifteen men thundered around the last bend in the road, coming to a slow halt when they spied the armored woman who waited with folded arms. Three by five rank, she noted. Nice neat lines. Very professional, very disciplined. "I just want you to know," the warrior said, calmly but loud enough for all of them to hear, "if that camp of yours wasn’t so big, you wouldn’t all have to die. Sorry ‘bout that." She smiled. It wasn’t pretty.

The mounted men all responded differently – some laughed, some looked concerned, many just looked confused – but the momentary relaxation of their guard was all Xena needed. She hurled the chakram down the right side of the rank, ricocheting it off a tree near the back of the file so it cut horizontally across the last row of mounted men. It sliced cleanly across all three necks before rebounding again and curving back to Xena’s outstretched hand. The now dead men dropped from their horses, which milled around in confusion, momentarily blocking any retreat.

"CHEE-YAAAH!" The warrior sailed forward through the air, drawing her sword, spinning and slashing as she landed in the middle of the formation. That broke the soldiers’ reverie and they drew their own weapons, turning their horses or dropping from their mounts entirely. The tight confusion of horses and riders let only two or three reach the warrior at a time, and Xena gave a chilling laugh as she cut them down. "Come on! That the best you got!"

The warrior grew strangely impatient waiting for the soldiers to come to her. During a moment’s lull she flipped over the front rank, landing behind the leader on his horse, slitting his throat and kicking the mount forward as he dropped, then launching herself out of the saddle as one of the remaining men hurled a javelin in her direction. She landed square on his chest, knocking him over and driving her blade through his ribcage as they hit the ground. Sensing movement behind her, she yanked it free and stabbed backwards under her arm, catching the charging soldier in the gut before he could bring his own blade down on her head.

The one man left alive jumped back on his horse and spurred it along the road. "No you don’t!" Xena snarled, slipping out her boot dagger and hurling it after him with deadly speed, pinning him between the shoulder blades. She wiped her sword off on one of the bodies, sheathed it, then walked over and retrieved the dagger.

One of the men groaned as she passed. "Stay dead," she hissed, stamping hard on his throat. She surveyed the scene briefly, grimly satisfied there were no further signs of life. "Now," she smiled, mounting up on one of the horses, "let’s find Morgin."

A quarter-hour later the guardian slipped out of the covering trees as Xena approached the northern crossroads. "I saw them all safely off," Morgin said. "They moved well. None were injured."

"Good," Xena responded simply, giving the horse a solid slap and sending it on its way. "Wait right where you were. The slavers should be along any moment."

"Will you take cover as well?" the guardian began. "An ambush…"

"No," Xena cut her off. "I’ll wait here, draw them all out onto the road. You watch the rear – take care of any that stay in the woods. If none do, then move out and flank them."

Morgin smiled. "This will be done."

As the guardian headed for the trees, Xena called after her. "And Morgin – no prisoners, no survivors. Understand?"

"This must be?" the smaller woman asked.

"Yes, it ‘must be’," the warrior replied coldly. "If you can’t handle it, then knock them out – I’ll finish them off."

"I’ll do as I must," Morgin said evenly, then disappeared into the woods.

It didn’t take long for the soldiers to arrive. As they broke through the trees onto the moonlit road, Xena stood relaxed and motionless. "Your friends on the road south of here weren’t much trouble," the warrior taunted. "I guess you won’t be either."

"That so?" the leader chuckled, motioning his men to surround the warrior. "Why don’t you just tell us where those slaves are off to? I might let you live for a while."

Xena glanced at the circle of horsemen around her, eyes narrowing as her grin widened. "Wish I could offer you the same." In an instant she was airborne, flipping and twisting onto the back of the horse behind her, then wrenching the soldier’s head to the side, hearing the satisfying snap of his neck.

As the warrior lashed out and kicked the sword from the grip of the soldier to her right, Morgin dropped out of the trees onto the leader, dragging him to the ground. In an instant the guardian was on her feet over the man, driving the wedge-shaped tip of her sword down hard into his throat, crushing his windpipe.

The melee didn’t last long, as the soldiers were evenly divided between those who tried to flee and those who tried to fight. The tight circle of horses made both options difficult, and the two women took easy advantage of the momentary confusion, leaping and rolling, striking out at whoever was close.

Xena glanced up to see Morgin spinning around to land a solid kick in the gut of a soldier who had managed to grab her sword. With a loud "oomph" he released the weapon, but as Morgin twisted and struck him hard across the side of his neck, breaking it neatly, she failed to see the mercenary behind her raise his weapon. Xena instantly hurled the chakram, burying it deep in Morgin’s unnoticed opponent. The warrior’s momentary distraction was rewarded with a stout kick in the midsection.

Pain bloomed in Xena’s already cracked ribs. She instinctively backhanded her opponent, then brought her sword around, slicing him cleanly through the middle. Only one soldier remained, a huge brute of a man who charged Morgin, apparently hoping to intimidate her and drive her down. With the hilt of her sword gripped in one hand and the blade in the other, the guardian flipped over his head as he passed, clotheslining him across the throat with the blade, using her weight and the leverage of her upper back as she dropped down behind him to crush his larynx. With a choking gasp, he collapsed in a heap.

"Nice move," Xena commented dryly, ignoring her own throbbing chest.

"I don’t use it often," Morgin replied without a hint of irony. "Shall we leave now, or do you wish to go back and slaughter a few more?"

"It’s not about slaughter," the warrior said evenly. "It’s about lowering the odds … and sending a message."

Morgin looked around at the dead and mortally wounded soldiers around them. "Then let’s hope they understand it. Messages such as these are unpleasant."

"Yes," Xena said simply. "They are."

* * *

Pollux leaned back against one of the wagons, his arms folded across his heavily muscled chest as he looked over the dozen bodies arranged in a neat row on the ground in front him. These were his men mostly – good men – along with a few of Race’s and two of Stophacles’. His anger was burning somewhere inside, but he kept it just low enough to keep him warm. Right now, he needed to concentrate on what these dead men could tell him.

"The cuts are deep and precise … quick, silent kills," Race observed, crouching on the ground while letting the lamplight play over the wounds. "Only one or two even have bruises. Never knew what hit them. Whoever did this was one of the best."

"Meleager?" the big man asked.

"Maybe," Race shrugged. "He’d be on the short list, especially if he’s crawled out of that bottle he’s been in, but the boot prints we found weren’t big enough, too narrow – most likely a woman."

Pollux nodded thoughtfully. "Then it could have been an Amazon … they’re damn good at sneaking in through the woods."

"Let’s hope so," Race replied, looking up. "If it wasn’t, I can only think of one or two others. Neither is good news."

Pollux just grunted. "What about Skulkas, on the end?" he asked, indicating the one man who wasn’t bleeding.

"Something thin-edged but dull and heavy across the throat. Stopped him from breathing," Race replied. "If the description Stophacles gave us is accurate, I’d say it could’ve been done by one of those whore guards, but I can’t be sure. Could’ve been a lot of things."

"Fits too neatly though," Pollux said simply.

"Yeah," Race agreed. "We’ve got to assume they know we’re here."

Pollux nodded again. "Heptus!" he called to his lieutenant standing nearby. "Get everyone up. Field fortifications – I want moat and stockade around the perimeter, by morning if possible. Then break camp. I want us ready to move out on a moment’s notice."

The man saluted and hurried away. Pollux glanced at the stars. "The search parties should be back soon," he observed. "Get the feeling they won’t be though, at least not all of them."

"Me too," Race agreed, standing. "That could mean over forty casualties for the night – a quarter of our total force, gone." He balled his fist and slammed it into the side of the wagon, then seemed to instantly calm down. He shrugged. "At least the search parties were all the slavers’ men. I’ll have my scouts keep an eye out for carrion birds in the morning. That’ll be soon enough."

"Agreed," Pollux sighed. "This was a good deal Race. Fifty thousand apiece is worth the wrath of the Amazons – I’ve got scores to settle with them anyway. Meleager’s head will make a fine trophy, and I admit I liked the idea of an army of whores to play with all the way to the coast. I was ready for battle losses, but losing our best scouts, then this … This pisses me off. I’m starting to not care if we make a single dinar. I want blood," he growled.

Race waved to his men nearby to move the bodies. "Well, don’t give up our paycheck just yet. When we find the dead slavers tomorrow we’ll have a better idea of who did it. You want odds?"

"I don’t gamble," Pollux replied coldly. "Now, let’s go have a chat with our slaver buddies."

* * *

Gabrielle couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited. It was mid-afternoon when she learned of her warrior’s arrival in Kesan, and she hurried to prepare their room, a part of her regretting now that she’d refused more expansive quarters in the castle. Still, the inn was fairly well accommodated. She started by requesting water for the bath at the end of the hall and a nice mix of available delicacies and more staple foods – given that her warrior had arrived slightly ahead of schedule, the bard had no doubt Xena would be tired and hungry.

The young woman had briefly flirted with the idea of wearing something provocative, then opted against it. I’ll just let things happen, she decided. She’ll likely be exhausted – throwing myself at her wouldn’t exactly be fair, she chuckled to herself. Now let’s see, where’d I put those scented oils I bought…

Her thoughts were stopped short by the armored woman who opened the door. "Xena!" Gabrielle shouted warmly, crossing the two or three steps to her warrior and wrapping her arms around the taller woman.

The warrior returned the embrace stiffly. "Hi … Gabrielle. Good to, to see you. Sorry … I can’t stay … Have to move out right away."

"Xena, what’s wrong?" the bard asked, pulling back and looking up with deep concern. The emotionless expression on the other woman’s face chilled her.

"An army, Gabrielle," Xena replied flatly. "A slaver army – professional mercenaries, real trouble. The Amazons are getting ready, most of the Guardians. I just stopped in because I … promised I’d come back. See you." The warrior began to pull away.

"Xena wait! Stop, please?" The bard deliberately held on, searching her companion’s face, noting the dark hollows under her eyes – and sensing the darkness behind them. "Xena, you look … you look so tired," Gabrielle said, trying to sound calm, reasonable. "I’ve got a bath ready, end of the hall, food coming too. It’ll take a while for everyone else to get ready, so please, stay?"

For a brief moment, the iron in Xena’s eyes held, then it softened. "All right," the warrior responded, brushing past Gabrielle and settling in a chair. The bard moved behind her, automatically reaching for the shoulder clasp on the armor, only to have a callused hand brush her away. "No time for that," Xena said flatly. "You said there was food?"

"Coming, soon," Gabrielle replied, inhaling slowly to hide her sinking heart. "So what’s the plan?"

Xena looked at her. "You can’t come, Gabrielle. We’re badly outnumbered. That means it’s got to get … ugly. I don’t want you there."

"OK," the bard nodded slowly, easing herself down in the chair next to the warrior. "So what happened?"

The warrior shook her head. "You don’t want to –"

"Xena," Gabrielle cut her off, putting a note of authority in her voice. "You’re not going to leave me here without telling me what you’re up against. I deserve that much. If nothing else, you’re taking the Amazons – my people. That makes it my doubly my business … and, I might add, gives me the right to go if I choose."

The bard leaned across and took the other woman’s hands in her own, then said softly, "But I’d rather you just kept your promise Xena – you’re here, but you haven’t come back to me. Where are you Xena? Please, what’s going on?"

Xena’s eyes narrowed, then closed. When they opened again, they were looking somewhere far away. "All right," the warrior began, an edge of weariness in her voice. "We found the army…"

With Xena’s characteristic economy of words, the events of the past few days didn’t take long to tell, nor did the bold strokes of Xena’s plan to deal with the situation. Gabrielle listened thoughtfully without interrupting, even though it was clear the warrior was hiding … something. The tension that probably only the bard would have noticed couldn’t have been just because they were all in serious danger – that had happened more times than Gabrielle liked to think about, but Xena always took it in stride, always rose to the challenge, enjoyed doing it.

The food arrived as the warrior finished talking. Gabrielle just nodded at the innkeeper and gave him a smile that probably looked as pasted on as it felt, then thanked him as he left. As the door closed she reached out and picked something off the tray without really looking at it.

"Forty," Gabrielle said finally around a strained laugh. "Well, I have to say Xena, that’s a lot, even for you…"

"Gabrielle…" the warrior began.

"No … Xena, it’s OK," the bard waved her down. "You had your reasons, and I’ll trust they were good reasons. It’s done." She took a bite, found it was a sweet, cake-like thing. "Hmm, this is good. You should eat something. I think hunger has sapped your brain."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Xena replied curtly.

Easy bard … she’s not herself. Go easy until you find out what’s really wrong. "Sorry," Gabrielle replied quickly, "it’s just that you’re overlooking a few things."

"Like what?" the warrior responded, letting her irritation show as she snatched a piece of chicken off the tray.

"Like the whole ‘working together thing’," Gabrielle answered as calmly as possible. "I mean, we are traveling with at least one other experienced warrior, an Amazon general, and an immortal. Maybe you should, um, ease off on the lone warrior routine. Even if … If you don’t feel like listening to me, why not at least see what they can come up with?"

Gabrielle made herself reach over to the tray for another cake, trying hard not to look at whatever expression might be on the warrior’s face. She chewed deliberately for a moment. When the silence stretched out longer than she could bear, she finally stole a quick glance.

Xena was looking at her with a studied, neutral expression on her face, eyes still narrowed, but the bard could practically see the warrior’s mind turning this over. Finally, Xena settled back in the chair. She gave a half grin, but there still wasn’t much warmth in it. "You’re right," the warrior said slowly, "I am ignoring some … important resources."

Gabrielle swallowed hard. Something still wasn’t right, but she decided not to press this small victory too far. What really happened out there Xena? Why can’t you just be here with me? The bard sighed. "OK. You … finish eating. I’ll round up Meleager, Solari and Lilith. There’s a private dining room downstairs – see you there?"

"Soon," Xena replied, finally taking a bite. She shut her eyes tight as the bard walked around her, then the warrior’s free hand reached out almost on its own and brushed the smaller woman’s arm. "Thank you Gabrielle," she said slowly. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you … We rode all night to get here."

The bard briefly covered the warrior’s hand with her own. "It’s all right Xena," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but there was no mistaking the edge of sadness underneath. "Just … take your time. An extra half hour won’t matter much, OK?"

Xena gave the hand a slight squeeze. "All right. See you then."

The moment the door closed behind her companion, Xena dropped her food and hugged her arms around her injured ribs. I’d better re-wrap these, now, before it gets worse. Then she shut her eyes tight, knowing that the pain she felt wasn’t just from a few cracked bones. Gods Gabrielle, what am I going to do? I can’t keep focused when I’m away, and I can’t even be civil to you when I’m near. What’s wrong with us … with me?

Outside the door, Gabrielle nearly collapsed against the wall. She was torn between going on with her errand and just storming back into the room and screaming at Xena until the warrior opened up. Finally she brushed at her eyes and stood up straight, squaring her shoulders. Stay on the job, she hissed to herself, I’m Queen of the Amazons, and sworn to protect Lilith’s followers. Get on with it.

* * *

Lilith smiled. "This is indeed a problem," the Priestess said, but without much gravity, as if it hardly mattered at all.

The others around the table – Xena, Gabrielle, Meleager, Solari, and Morgin – all looked at her as if she wasn’t quite sane. "Lilith," Xena began, her irritation rising again, "let me go over this one more time – these are professional mercenaries. They outnumber us…"

"I am sorry Xena," the Priestess cut her off gently, "but in this you are not entirely correct. They are a group of slavers who have hired mercenaries – a large force yes, but their motive is simple profit. You yourself believe they can be driven off by … how did you say? ‘Taking away their reason for being here’? I believe we can take this a step further, perhaps be more direct, and thus avoid some loss of life – even if it would be mostly theirs as you believe. Do you see?"

Meleager shook his head. "Uh, I’m sorry, but I don’t get it."

Lilith smiled again. "Morgin, be kind and fetch the small chest from my room – you know the one, I believe."

The guardian wearily smiled back and nodded, rising from her chair. "Of course Lilith," she said, making her exit.

The Priestess leaned forward slightly. "Warrior Xena, please understand, I believe your plan is a good one, given what you believe you have at your disposal."

The warrior shrugged. "It’s simple guerilla tactics, nothing fancy – hit and run, whittle them down. Think you’ve got a better idea?"

"Perhaps," the Priestess replied. "Yet I do think we should rely on yours as a method of last resort, perhaps even use a combination of plans. If this is, as you believe, the most serious threat to our journey, it would be foolish indeed not to use everything in our arsenal. Ah, Morgin … you return. Thank you."

The guardian carried a small, but obviously somewhat heavy chest. "You’re very welcome Lilith. It was pleasure," she said, smiling as she set it in the middle of the table. Then she moved around and resumed her seat.

The chest was perhaps a foot wide, slightly more than half that high and deep. Although ornately crafted and quite pretty, it was made of solid iron, and bore three stout, locking clasps across the front, each with a differently-shaped keyhole.

Lilith rose from her chair and ran her hand lightly over the top on the chest. "Note how strong it seems, how impregnable," she began, breaking into a warm smile, her voice almost musical as she spoke. She turned it so the front faced Xena, Meleager and Solari across the table. "The locks cannot be picked, the iron is tempered and stronger than even the stoutest of a blacksmith’s tools. It was once thrown over a cliff, and remained intact on the rocks below. Yet I tell you that once its secret is known, it can be easily overcome, and so it is with many things."

The Priestess’ slim fingers began pushing and twisting along the back of the chest in an intricate pattern. Only in the quiet of the room could anyone make out the almost inaudible clicks coming from inside the box. The lid abruptly popped open along the back, the heavy clasps in front, now obviously fake, forming the hinges as it swung up and forward. "And, against the selfish sons of Adam, I put in your hands what is, perhaps, the ultimate weapon."

"Gods," Gabrielle gasped. The chest was filled almost to overflowing with the most perfectly clear diamonds the bard had ever seen.

* * *

Xena was now annoyed and tense as she rode. This was actually an improvement from earlier. I was wrong – working together is no way to run a war.

The warrior had needed the Amazons for her plan to work, and had decided to bring half the Guardians as well – she needed the numbers. The rest had to stay with Lilith’s followers so that if things went badly, they could look after the caravan in Kesan and arrange another escort. Lilith coming along hadn’t been part of Xena’s original idea, but the warrior was well aware the immortal was in little danger, and her ability to influence people would serve the new plan well.

That meant Meleager insisted on coming too. Xena had hoped he’d stay behind, since he could be instrumental in putting together a new escort if things went wrong, but in the end the warrior had relented.

Then Gabrielle insisted on coming, and made it clear she would accompany her Amazons and assist the negotiations. That resulted in the two of them having a bitter argument. Actually, the same argument we always have, the warrior silently fumed.

Yet under her anger was an edge of guilt – Xena knew she was souring the love they’d so recently admitted, but she didn’t have time to deal with that right now and the main reason she didn’t want Gabrielle around was so she wouldn’t have to be constantly reminded of it. Doesn’t she understand how much I’ve got on my mind already? How can I concentrate on what’s important when I have to worry about saying the wrong thing around her too? She’s not being fair to either of us.

So the warrior rode in silence at the head of the column, speaking only when the scouts brought their regular reports. She concentrated on tactics, turning the plan over and over in her mind, looking for any flaw or weakness.

That, and ignoring the pain that jarred her ribs every time Argo took a step.

* * *

"The only good thing is that for once I’m certain it’s nothing I’ve done," Gabrielle finished sadly.

She and Lilith were walking together behind the wagon, which was heavily laid with large, oblong skins filled with lamp oil and almost pure alcohol. For a few moments they watched the liquid bobbling of the skins as the wagon bounced along.

Finally Lilith spoke. "This is a truth you must hold to, young one. This, and the truth that she loves you still, as greatly now as before, perhaps more so."

"Can you feel that?" Gabrielle asked.

Lilith smiled. "I do not have to. I know it as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. She has said you should never doubt how much she loves you, and you should trust her in this, as you trust in your own feelings. This depth of love you share is new to you, yes?"

"Gods," the bard gasped, blinking back a tear, "you have no idea – I thought I was in love before once, but this … I mean, I’ve been holding it back for so long, if I think about it too much I feel like it’ll drive me crazy. Kind of scary, you know?"

Lilith’s smile widened as she nodded. "Yes, young one, I know. So I ask you now, if it can be frightening for one such as you, who is so open, how much deeper do you believe it must run for one such as Xena, who taught herself to feel nothing for so long?"

Gabrielle thought for a moment. "But that doesn’t make sense," she began, "I mean, sure, she hides her feelings a lot, and I tease her about it, but Xena’s never been afraid of anything…"

"Except, perhaps, herself," the immortal said simply. "Know this young one, every time one surrenders to love, it is different. Xena may have loved before, yet this is as new for her as it is for you. The only remedy I can offer is that of simple patience, and trust. When you become saddened to think how far you may have yet to go, think again on how far you have come already." Lilith stopped, gave the bard a warm hug. "Ah, Gabrielle. Would that your path was an easier one for you both, yet it is the path you share together."

"Yeah," Gabrielle sniffled, "and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I just wish … Aw Gods…" She broke away, although kept up a slight contact as they continued walking. "I just wish we had a moment alone to really talk, but here we are, walking into a war zone. Xena’s right – our timing is awful."

"Ah, Gabrielle," Lilith chuckled, "if there is one thing I have learned in all my years, it is that the present has a terrible habit of becoming the past, and all too quickly. I have found the things we most regret are the things which we do not do, or put off because we always believed we had the time. True, one can make mistakes, but if we are wise we learn from them. Never regret the present, Gabrielle, nor forget the past, for they make up who we are, and shape who we will become."

* * *

The column reached the slaver’s camp by nightfall the following day, stopping only briefly a couple of times to rest without sleeping and to water the horses. It was a difficult journey and everyone was tired, but time was of the essence. It was a relief when they arrived and found the slavers were still there.

The camp had, however, been fortified. A solid wall of five-foot-high wooden stakes had been erected around the entire perimeter with a five-foot-wide moat around it, and the forest had been cleared by a good ten feet out from that. "Been busy since you left," Meleager observed wryly.

"Looks that way," Xena agreed, scanning the camp. "Moat and stockade. Very professional – and very predictable."

"Yeah," Meleager replied, "and kinda dumb … keeps them all boxed in." He turned to face Xena. "OK, when do you want me to start the attack?"

Xena looked up at the sky. "In a few hours. Give me time to get around. I’ll take Solari with me as a runner – she’s good at moving through the trees. Wait for her."

Meleager nodded, extending his hand. "Good luck Xena – don’t take any chances I wouldn’t."

She grasped his forearm. "And don’t you take any chances I would – no casualties, remember? Fall back at the first sign of trouble."

"Oh yeah, nooo problem," he chuckled.

The two made their way back to the main force as quickly and quietly as possible. The Amazons were all tending to their weapons, while the dozen Guardians had just about finished tying two skins of oil each to their backs. It was a fair amount of weight to have to carry, but there wasn’t much choice. Xena knelt to throw a quick loop of rope around her own pack when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," Gabrielle said quietly.

The warrior stiffened slightly, then made herself relax and shook her head. As she rose and turned around, her half smile was almost genuine. "Hey yourself."

The bard looked up at her companion, her young face a mixture of affection and concern. "Listen, Xena," she began gently, "I’m not sure what’s bugging you, but we can work it out later. Right now, just know I love you, OK? Please be careful."

Xena sighed, pulling the young woman into a gentle embrace. Gods, I can’t believe I need her this much. "I love you too, Gabrielle. Please … please believe that. And I will be careful. If everything goes right I’ll be back before dawn. Stay close to Solari and Meleager, and take care of yourself, all right?"

"I will … all of it," Gabrielle replied, breaking away. The young woman looked up at the warrior for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face. "Come back to me, Xena…" she said quietly, brushing past and heading towards the Amazons.

Xena closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She never lets go, does she? The warrior exhaled. Gods bless her for that … Then she straightened and shouldered her pack, walking in the opposite direction. "Come on Morgin, let’s move…"

It took the better part of an hour for Xena and the Guardians to swing wide around the slaver camp and quietly approach it from the north, where the wagons were being kept. The warrior clasped arms with Solari briefly and the Amazon took off to rejoin to the main force, then Xena led her small band as close to the edge of the forest as she dared. Now, we wait, she thought, then studiously tried to find something to keep her from thinking about anything else – like Gabrielle.

Seeing Morgin blink rapidly and shake her head as if to clear it, Xena waved at the guardian and motioned her over. "Here," the warrior said quietly, handing her small pouch of dried, oddly-shaped leaves, "pass these around. Anyone who feels like they’re dozing off, chew a couple – can’t say they taste good, but they’ll keep you alert."

Morgin gave a wry grin. "So that’s your secret."

Xena rolled her eyes. "No, in my case it’s pure mean stubbornness – Morpheus and I don’t get along."

"This I believe," Morgin chuckled, popping a leaf in her mouth. "Ugh, you weren’t joking about the taste."

"Yeah, and you’ll probably have a headache in the morning too … sorry," Xena grinned, hoping it seemed like genuine, playful banter.

The guardian gave her a look of exaggerated disgust. "Xena, if that’s all I have to worry about in the morning, it will be great pleasure," she said before shuffling off to pass the bag around.

Me too, the warrior thought ruefully. Come on Solari, move that Amazon butt of yours…

It was less than an hour, but after spending most of the time pushing away thoughts of Gabrielle, to Xena it seemed like an eternity. Then her reverie was broken by a loud series of shouts coming from the far side of the slavers’ camp, followed quickly by a wall of flame enveloping the stockade’s front gate.

"Showtime," Xena called to the Guardians. "Everyone get ready – wait for my signal."

The warrior grinned as a few of the rear sentries left their posts. She reached for her boot daggers, watching carefully as the growing sounds of distress from the front of the camp drew more soldiers off. Come on, be good little boys … go see what the noise is all about…

Stophacles charged out of his tent just in time to see Race jogging by with a half-dozen men. "What’s going on?" the slaver yelled.

Race shot him a disgusted look. "We’re under attack you idiot! Get your worthless ass to the wall – take the west flank. This frontal assault is likely a diversion!"

Then why are you heading right for it? Stophacles thought spitefully as the mercenary ran off. "You, you and you," the slaver shouted, turning quickly to his men, "round up as many as you can and join us, the rest of you, come on!"

Meleager and Solari both grunted loudly, pressed together shoulder to shoulder, putting all their combined weight on the arm of the small, roughly constructed catapult until it was low enough that the Amazon could push the release pin in place. "Got it," Solari announced with a gasp, then gave the aging warrior a wry grin. "Was it good for you too?"

Meleager returned the expression. "Oh yeah, you know it," he winked.

"Uh, Meleager, do you mind?" Gabrielle broke in, crouching with her back to the low wooden barrier that shielded them from slaver arrows. She held out an oil-filled skin in both hands. "This thing kinda stinks."

The graying warrior chuckled. "Sorry kid." He took the skin from her and dropped it into the shallow trough lashed crossways at the end of the arm. The catapult was one of the least impressive war machines he’d ever seen or used, but it didn’t have to throw anything very far and worked well enough. "Now," he said, picking up the torch, "let’s see if we can actually clear the gate this time … ready?"

"You betcha," Solari answered, grabbing the release line. Meleager soon had the skin ablaze, and the Amazon waited until it was nearly ready to split open under the heat, then yanked the line. The flaming ball sailed over the barrier, out over the cleared area in front of the camp, and over the stockade. A huge sheet of fire erupted from within the slavers’ camp where it landed. "Yes!" Solari shouted with undisguised glee, raising her arm and pulling her fist down.

"Hey, cool," Gabrielle said, peeking over the barrier, "I think you hit something important – nice shooting."

Meleager looked over as well, then gave Solari a quick thumbs-up and another wink. He scanned the stockade, making sure the steady hail of arrows from the Amazon archers in the treeline was still keeping the men inside effectively pinned. It was, but he noted the sheer number of soldiers that were massing, and knew it wouldn’t last much longer. "Come on," he said, turning back to Solari, "we’ve got time for maybe one more. Gabrielle, get your staff, help me shift this thing – next one should be a little to the left, then we gotta cut and run."

Pollux stomped his foot in raw anger as the second fire bomb exploded, igniting their rack of crossbows – expensive crossbows. Men who were burned or hit with distinctively Amazon arrows were being dragged and carried away from the front of the stockade. His own archers were trying desperately to shoot back, but they were few in number and had no discernable target to aim for in the dark woods – except maybe the spot where the bombs were coming from, and shooting there didn’t seem to have any effect. Still, the men had good cover within the stockade, and if this could be ended quickly casualties wouldn’t be that severe. "This can’t be it," he shouted at Race, "they’re up to something!"

"I know," Race shouted back, "but we can’t just sit here and take this either! Don’t seem like many of them. We’ve gotta run ‘em off before it gets worse!"

"Agreed!" Pollux looked around. "Gather as many of those worthless slaver troops as you can find," he said simply. "Get them ready for a big rush out through the gate. I’ll take my men to the east wall – we’ll try and flank around." He turned back to Race. "You stay here, fight the fire, keep alert!"

"Don’t go chasing ‘em far," Race warned. "It’s too damn dark and those Amazon bitches know how to move in the woods."

"Don’t worry," Pollux replied bitterly, drawing his sword. "I won’t take any more risks than I have to. Damn that idiot Klytus! We should have moved out at first light!"

"We’ll deal with them later," Race said coldly, then extended his hand. "Good luck." They clasped forearms.

Xena stole a look over the stockade, but aside from the two dead sentries, she couldn’t immediately spot anyone else between herself and the wagons. She waved at the Guardians crouched against the wooden wall. "Go!" she hissed.

The dozen leather-clad women clambered as silently as possible over the stockade, then wasted no time moving forward, dispersing themselves through the wagons. Xena hastily retrieved her daggers from the bodies of the sentries, then jogged into the camp until she was ducked beside the farthest row of wagons. She had hoped to find tents still up so she could set fire to a few of them as well, but the camp was mostly broken down, with no structures within easy reach. She glanced back – the Guardians were splashing the oil and alcohol over the all-too-wooden wagons. Just hope it’s enough, Xena thought to herself. Come on girls, hurry…

The warrior looked back into the camp. A large group of soldiers was moving towards the eastern wall, and her clear blues eyes recognized the leader who ran with them. Pollux … All right, let’s see what kind of mayhem I can stir up and keep you occupied. Dropping back, she found Morgin. "Done?" she asked.

The guardian nodded. "Nearly – another few moments."

"Good," the warrior replied. "Slip out the way we came in, but swing around west – west, got it? Keep moving. I’ll join you as soon as I can."

"This will be done," Morgin saluted, then hurried off.

Xena divided her attention between the activity in the camp and making sure the Guardians made it safely over the wall. She used the time to creep forward to the nearest camp fire, then was suddenly distracted as a third bomb hit the front of the camp. The blaze revealed the number of soldiers gathered near the gate, thrown in sharp silhouette by the fire. Give ‘em a reason to stay put, warrior. Time to move.

Grabbing a burning log, Xena ran back to the wagons, lighting them up as quickly as she could. Fed by the oil, the fire spread with frightening speed, and in moments all twelve of them were burning fiercely. Taking hold of the ropes tied around the skins she had brought with her, she set the skins ablaze. With a few back and forth swings, she got enough momentum to spin her whole body around, giving the skins a hammer throw directly into the center of the camp where the supplies had been stockpiled, instantly covering them in flames.

Drawing her sword, the warrior strode purposefully away from the roaring wagons, standing proud in the middle of the destruction she had caused. "CHEEE-YAAAH!" As if I needed that to get their attention.

Klytus and Stophacles both turned to the sound of the battle cry. "Nooo!" Klytus screamed. "Not the wagons!" He grabbed the nearest man by the collar, practically threw him in the direction of the rear of the camp. "Move your asses! Do something!" he screamed again, taking off at a dead run.

Pollux took in the dark-haired form standing even-footed in front of the inferno that enveloped the wagons. "Xena," he hissed. "Guess I should have taken that bet."

Heptus turned to his commander and asked. "What do we do?"

Pollux spared a glance at the front of the camp, saw two more men felled by the constant rain of Amazon arrows. "We stick to the plan," he growled at his lieutenant. "She’s alone. I doubt she’d take us all on, and unless you throw yourself at her she can’t do much more damage than she already has. If those idiots want to save their precious wagons, let them tangle with the Lion of Amphipolis. The Amazons are the immediate threat." He waved over at Race, signaling for the slavers to begin their charge.

Meleager watched the huge gouts of flame erupt from the wagons at the back of the camp, followed almost immediately by the supplies going up as well. "That’s our cue," he smiled. "Solari, spread the word – two more shots apiece, then move out, fast." The Amazon nodded and ducked into the woods, sending out the bird call that signaled retreat.

Gabrielle stole a last glance over the barrier. "Xena!" she shouted. "Meleager, what’s she doing?"

The aging warrior scanned the camp, saw the armored woman standing in front of the blazing wagons. "Causing a diversion," he said simply, noting the soldiers massed near the front gates. And it’s not working. He reached out and shook the bard by the shoulder. "Gabrielle, Xena can take care of herself – Hades, you know that better than I do!"

"But Meleager…" the bard began. Just then, a huge group of armed men began swarming out of the stockade.

"Gabrielle! We gotta go now!"

Stophacles had also recognized the raven-haired warrior, but being older and slower, he lagged too far behind both Klytus and most of his men to stop them. He tried shouting, but Klytus either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him.

Xena smiled at the approaching men. Only a dozen or so … damn. I’d hoped for more. The one in the lead raised his sword as he approached, but the warrior lashed out with a straight-legged kick to his midsection that stopped him cold. She spun and slashed him across the throat, then drove her sword back the other direction into the man next to him.

Stophacles pulled up short at the sight of Klytus going down, the heavy arterial spray standing out in an almost slow-motion silhouette against the blaze of the wagons. "Damn you Klytus," he whispered. "I thought you were smarter." He stood his ground, watching with bland interest as the Warrior Princess cut through the rest of his men.

Race watched the progress of the two-dozen slaver troops rushing out through the still-burning gate, and was hardly surprised when only a couple were felled by arrows before they reached the treeline. Bitches are pulling out already, he noted to himself. Really were just after the wagons. Smart. Then the road in front of the slavers erupted in flame as well, cutting off their charge. Squinting through the fire, Race made out the gray-haired figure laughing on the other side. Meleager, he mentally snorted. On the eastern wall, Pollux and his men were vaulting over and charging for the woods. Ares, Race prayed idly, I know you’ve got no love for the Amazons. Aid Pollux in driving them down and catching that pathetic excuse for a warrior.

Race turned to look back at the wagons, seeing the dead men there and the armored woman standing over them. And that would be Xena – guess Pollux was right. How do a bunch of whores rate this kind of muscle? We should double our fee. He sighed and waved to his own troops. "Come on," he shouted, "move up – slow. Don’t take chances. Try and surround her, but keep your distance … and find some archers."

Xena was hardly even winded by the brief fight, but her injured ribs hadn’t enjoyed it much. She noted the large group of soldiers approaching, and the armored man standing a few yards away who didn’t seem inclined to get any closer. She stole a glance at the burning wagons. Another minute and they’ll be useless, she thought grimly. Stay put.

The warrior turned back to the armored man. "And you are?" she asked with a feral smile.

"Stophacles," he replied, then nodded towards one of the bodies at her feet. "That was my partner, Klytus. You’re Xena." He spat on the ground.

The warrior narrowed her eyes above the dangerous grin. "If you know me then you know that nothing can stop me from hitting you, night after night, until you go away … or you’re all dead." She let her bloodlust rise enough to show, then laughed.

Gods, she really is good, Stophacles thought, trying not to let her see the shudder that ran through him. "Can’t really give up I’m afraid," he said as evenly as possible. "I’ve got debts, obligations…"

His words were cut off as the warrior spun away in a series of moves almost too quick to follow. When she was still again, she held an arrow in each hand. "Your funeral," she laughed, then without looking flung one of the arrows at the rank of approaching mercenaries with a quick backhand. Race abruptly dropped to his knees, screaming, the arrow lodged in his eye.

She laughed again, twirling the second arrow idly between her fingers, her openly predatory expression nearly freezing the slaver’s blood in his veins, as sure as it stopped the oncoming soldiers dead in their tracks. Just then one of the wagons collapsed, sending a huge geyser of sparks into the night sky which reflected, blazing, in the clear ice of her eyes.

"Well boys, it’s been fun," she snarled. "See you soon." With that, she back flipped over the front row of wagons, directly into the inferno, and was gone.

* * *

Dawn had almost come. Gabrielle was pacing back and forth, gesturing occasionally to no one in particular, giving every sign of having a conversation with someone who wasn’t there. Meleager, reclined against a tree with Lilith curled up against him, pulled the Priestess a little closer. "She looks worried," he said simply.

Lilith chuckled. "Dear one, you have many talents, yet I believe I must add ‘understatement’ to the list." Gabrielle, along with Meleager, Solari and the Amazons had met Lilith at the rendezvous point hours before, and the Guardians had joined them less than an hour after that. Now the sun was getting ready to rise, and Xena had yet to arrive.

Meleager sighed. "Aw Hades, maybe she wouldn’t be so upset if Tanith hadn’t been killed," he wondered aloud, glancing briefly at the still form, covered with a bedroll on the far side of the clearing. Solari and several other Amazons were seated in a loose cluster around Adrea, not far from the body – the two scouts had been close friends since childhood. He looked back at the pacing bard. "Still, we should say something to her … I mean, before she wears a trench in the ground." He chuckled mirthlessly.

Just then, Gabrielle stopped on her own, looking up at the first pale streaks of sunlight pushing at the sky. "I’m going for a wash," she announced, and strode off in the general direction of the creek, pausing briefly to offer a few quiet words to Adrea as she passed.

Meleager started to rise as well, but Lilith pulled him back down. "Leave her be, dear one," she sighed. "If she wished any counsel, I have little doubt she would ask."

"Yeah," Meleager sighed again, "guess so." Come on Xena, get back here … quit worrying the poor girl.

Some time passed, the sky growing brighter. Meleager finally couldn’t take sitting still any longer. He scratched his chin, then pulled Lilith into a brief hug. "I’m gonna go check the watch posts," he said simply, rising to his feet. "Be back in a bit."

"Sorry Meleager – don’t need a search party," a familiar voice announced.

The aging warrior almost jumped out of his boots. He spun around, coming face to face with the armored woman, who stood with her arms folded and a wry smile. "Hades Xena!" he cried, "don’t do that! Where in blazes have you been?"

"Playing cat-and-mercenaries most of the night, keeping them off our trail," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone make it back?"

He shook his head sadly, then inclined it across the clearing. "One … one casualty –"

Xena’s head snapped up, eyes flying wide, her gaze scattering around wildly. "Where’s Gabrielle?" Then louder, taking a step forward, "Where is Gabrielle!"

Meleager placed a careful hand on the warrior’s shoulder, met the ice-cold glare he got in return evenly. Gods, is she on a knife’s edge right now or what? "She’s fine, Xena – not even a scratch, I promise. She’s down at the creek … She’s worried about you, you know."

Xena exhaled carefully, closing her eyes, making a visible effort to relax. She finally nodded slightly. "Sorry Meleager … So who…"

"Tanith," he said simply. "Stupid, bad luck – caught an arrow in the back as we pulled out, right through the heart. Nothing anyone could do. A few others were hurt, but nothing serious. Guess we got away clean, all things considered." He regarded the armored woman for a moment, covered in dark smudges of soot and blood. "You OK though? You look like Tartarus."

Xena just sighed. "I’m not injured…" She closed her eyes again, then straightened with effort and shrugged.

The aging warrior nodded, then smiled. "Think I know what would help. Come on, I’ll take you to Gabrielle…"

"I can find her on my own," the warrior said, giving him a tight smile. She looked down at Lilith. "Get your diamonds Priestess," she quipped. "Time you did something useful."

Lilith grinned back, floating up to her feet. "It will be great pleasure."

The warrior turned back to Meleager. "Get ready. We’re moving out as soon as I get back – if we have to negotiate, it’s best we do it before they get over their shock and start getting angry."

Meleager nodded. "Yes sir!" he teased, giving a snappy salute.

Xena rolled her eyes, then headed towards the creek, pausing briefly to offer a few words to Adrea as she passed. "Well," Meleager chuckled, "I know one warrior who could use a nap." He sighed, smiling. "I swear though, in spite of everything, they really do make a cute couple."

Lilith slid an arm around his waist. "Let us hope so, dear one … Let us hope so."

Xena approached the creek silently, without even consciously trying to. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she rounded a tree and paused for a moment. Gabrielle was seated facing the water, knees drawn up tight, turned just enough in the warrior’s direction she could make out the look of grim concern on the young woman’s face.

Xena closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow down. Just seeing her bard, safe and unharmed, brought up so many feelings at once Xena had to call on what little reserves she had left to control them. The warrior had spent the night skirmishing with Pollux and his men, and it had gotten vicious. For a time, she had simply given herself over to her bloodlust, and although she’d carefully taken time to push it down before returning to the camp, it still hummed within her. Between that and going almost three days without sleep she was running on pure adrenaline, keyed up tight, and her emotions were far too close to the surface. Part of her wanted to hold her young partner close and burst into tears – another part wanted nothing more than to throw her to the ground and ravish her until she screamed.

This is too risky, Xena thought, almost taking a step back. Then she looked at Gabrielle again, the pale rays of dawn glinting off the red-gold hair and the tears which rolled down the bard’s face, and stopped herself. No, she growled. No more running. Not from her … not from me … Not from us. For all of a half second you thought she was dead and it almost killed you too. You love her, you need her, and it’s time you let her know – tomorrow she might just be gone for real, and so could you.

Xena exhaled slowly, then opened her eyes. You are who you are, warrior, she grimly reminded herself. And it’s not going to get any easier – without her least of all. Deal with it. For her sake if not yours … She deserves it. The thought focused her, and holding the love and concern radiating from her bard like a lifeline, she began to warm inside.

Finally, as the warrior took a step forward, she realized she was smiling. "Hey," she said quietly.

Gabrielle turned her head very slowly, looking up. A small tear dropped from her shining green eyes. "Gods Xena," she breathed.

In a moment, the young woman was on her feet, arms surrounding her warrior. Xena gave in and held her partner close, once again surrounded by her scent, feeling her warmth. Gabrielle shifted slightly, and their lips joined in an easy, gentle kiss. Tears welled up in Xena’s eyes and she let them fall, losing herself in the sweet caress of the bard’s mouth on her own, the tension within her evaporating with every loving moment.

Finally, Gabrielle gently broke away, cupping her warrior’s face, their heads still touching lightly as she brushed her thumbs under the brimming blue eyes. "Welcome back Xena," the bard whispered.

"Good to be back," Xena chuckled lightly. She sniffled. "It’s been … a rough few days, Gabrielle … I…"

"It’s OK Xena," her bard said softly. "You’re here, with me. That’s what’s important. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready."

Xena pulled the smaller woman close again, burying her face in red-gold hair, feeling the warm weight against her body. "You’ll have to be … patient with me, Gabrielle," she sighed. "I’m kind of new at this. Constant danger and … love … I don’t know if they go well together." She chuckled, felt tears forming again.

Gabrielle lifted her head, looking into her warrior’s face. "We’ll find a way, Xena. I promise. Hold onto me when you need to – I’m not going anywhere." Her thumbs once again traced under those blue eyes as she noted the deep, exhausted hollows there. The bard sniffled again and smiled. "But right now, you should get some rest – you look like Tartarus. How long has it been since you slept?"

Xena chuckled again. "Seems like forever … but I’m not letting you go in there alone. Come on…"

"Xena," Gabrielle cut her off. "Yes you are. Things will go easier if you’re not there – we talked this through, remember?"

"Gabrielle, if something goes wrong…"

"If something goes wrong, I want you in top form to rescue me," the bard chided. "Or at least as close to top form as you can get in the next couple of hours. Eat something, then sleep. Got it?"

"Yes … boss," the warrior teased back, then pulled her bard close one last time. "Promise me something though, all right?"

"Anything," the smaller woman breathed.

"Come back to me Gabrielle…"

They held each other in silence for a moment, then the bard shifted and looked directly into Xena’s blue eyes. "Always, my warrior … always…"

* * *

Stophacles sat on a barrel resting his chin in his hand, looking at the burned out wrecks of the wagons. Ah Klytus, he thought, what am I gonna do now? The cages were mostly intact, but had warped under the heat, and in any case the wagons under them were a total loss. Worse, the chains and manacles which had been stored so neatly had been partially fused together and were, for the most part, useless. Twenty-two men had died in the attack and two dozen more were wounded, with an fair number of those not expected to last much longer.

Pollux had come back in a short time earlier, and was none too happy. He’d not only failed to track the Amazons but had lost nearly two-thirds of the men he’d taken with him. Stophacles hadn’t bothered to ask how – it didn’t really matter. Race had gotten his eye bandaged, and now he was livid with rage. He and Pollux had shut themselves up inside a tent and were still in the middle of a shouting match. Stophacles idly hoped they’d kill each other. Solve a lot of problems, he mused, then began to turn his thoughts to ways he could silently disappear from the face of the Earth.

He was broken out of his increasingly depressed reverie by his one remaining sergeant. "Sir," the man said, not even bothering to salute, "the whores have sent, uh, an envoy."

Stophacles turned a bleary eye towards him. "Say that again?"

"The whores, they’ve sent a, well – they want to talk to whoever is in charge," the sergeant stammered. "Four women, at least two are Amazons, under a flag of truce … They say they’re here to save our lives, whatever that means."

Stophacles scratched his ear. "Any of the mercenaries know they’re here?"

"Can’t say," the sergeant shrugged.

Stophacles sighed. "OK, have the … envoy brought to my tent. Don’t bother to tell Pollux and Race." Probably find out soon enough anyway – let’s see what this is about first.

"Yes sir," the sergeant nodded, then walked off.

Stophacles hopped off the barrel, opened it and splashed some water on his face. Since he’d elected to stay out of the action last night, he was relatively free of grime and soot. He sighed, looking at his reflection in the water. Ah Klytus, what am I gonna do?

Yet, when he entered the tent followed by his sergeant, he almost laughed when he saw the women seated at the table. What’s this slip of a girl doing here? he chuckled to himself. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s gotta be the lead whore … this might not go so bad after all. Still, he also recognized that the Amazon soldier and the whore guardian who stood behind them were armed, and the four of them seemed all business.

He put on his game face and sat down. "I’m Stophacles. I lead this camp. What in Tartarus do you have to say?"

The young woman narrowed her eyes. "I’m Gabrielle, Queen of the Amazons by Terreis’ Right of Caste. This is Lilith, High Priestess of Inanna – and given the circumstances you might be more courteous."

"Charmed, I am sure," the Priestess smiled, leaning over the table to offer her hand.

Stophacles took it automatically. "Sorry," he said abruptly, suddenly feeling the need to apologize as the Priestess’ eyes caught his own. "I had a rough night." He sat back, blinking. "So what is your business here?"

"Saving your life," Gabrielle said, coldly, and with no hint of actual concern that the slaver could make out. "I’m giving you this chance to give up trying to enslave Lilith and her followers. They are under my protection, as I’m sure you’re aware by now. You’ve lost your cages, and with them the means to take anyone anywhere against their will – disperse your forces and leave."

"Like I told Xena last night, I can’t," Stophacles replied, trying to sound calm, even bored. She may be small, but sure as Helios rises, she’s an Amazon. "I have debts to the mercenaries I’ve hired, and obligations to the parties I was hired by. I’ve lost the wagons, but I’ll deliver those whores if it means tying up every last one of them with their own clothing and taking them on a forced march."

Gabrielle laughed. "Good luck. Counting the scouts you stupidly surrounded Amazonia with, you began with a force of nearly two hundred. Now you’re down to not even half that while we’ve suffered no losses at all. Lilith’s followers are in a safe place, protected where you can’t reach them, and my soldiers – who include Meleager the Mighty and Xena, Destroyer of Nations – can harass you as we please. Just look at the numbers, Stophacles. You’re in a no-win situation here. Give up and go home while you can."

"And what’s to stop me from just taking you and the whore both hostage?" he spat back. "Hades, I should just kill you both on the spot…"

"Because you’d spend the rest of your days running from Amazon justice," Gabrielle cut in. "If we don’t return within the hour, my soldiers will send word to Amazonia, then hunt down every single one of you like the dogs you are. Every. Single. One," she said icily, spacing out the last three words and tapping the table for emphasis. "If you know anything about Amazon honor, you know they would find you, no matter how long it took or how deep a hole you crawl in. You’d gain nothing, and lose what little you still have left."

Stophacles gripped the arms of his chair, his color rising. He was on the brink of getting up and leaving when the Priestess leaned forward onto the table with an odd smile. Stophacles felt his gaze drawn irresistibly to the cleavage he was suddenly presented with.

"Perhaps," the Priestess said, in the smoothest tones the slaver had ever heard in his life, "I can offer some small solution." She slid a hand into the folds of her gown under her breasts and produced a small cloth bag. "If money is your greatest concern – your ‘debts and obligations’ as you put it – this may help." While the Amazon Queen glared at her, Lilith opened the bag, spilling a half dozen diamonds out on the table.

Stophacles’ eyebrows shot up as he instantly quit looking at the woman’s bust line and fastened on the gems. "Uhhh … hmmm…" he muttered, trying to seem businesslike. "Let’s see what we have here…" He picked one up and held it to the light. It was at least as big as the end of his thumb and as clear as he’d ever seen. Hoo, that’s a beauty, he noted, his heart picking up a bit. Could get ten, maybe fifteen thousand for it easy…

He coughed. "Sorry, not enough," he said as nonchalantly as he could, "I’d need at least three times that just to pay off the mercenaries – they didn’t come cheap and they’re pretty pissed off by now…"

"You’re lucky to get that!" Gabrielle hissed, standing. "Come on Lilith – another day and the reinforcements arrive. Then I’ll come back and erase his sorry ass and it won’t cost you a dinar…"

"Amazon Queen," the Priestess said gently, "please … I wish only no further loss of life. Stophacles," she smiled, turning back to the slaver, "I would give all I have to be left in peace, and to save you and your men from this Amazon’s wrath." She reached out and covered his hands with her own. "Please, I have exactly six more gems such as these. It is all I have, but I will give it gladly. Be kind and spare me?"

Sounds like a good deal, Stophacles thought to himself. Zeus, it’s better than I could have hoped for … and gods, what incredible eyes – she wouldn’t lie to me now, would she? He blinked again, sitting back and glancing at Gabrielle. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don’t," the Queen snorted.

"Because I have no reason to lie," Lilith crooned. "There is a fork in the road to the west. I will leave the gems in a bag under a rock on the southern side of the road. Wait half a day, then retrieve them at your leisure. If they are not there, you may resume whatever plan you think best. Is this acceptable?"

Stophacles nodded slowly. "Guess it’ll do." He swept the diamonds back into the bag and tucked it into his gauntlet. "Consider it a deal," he said rising. "You’re free to go."

That earned him a last icy glare from the Amazon Queen. "Let’s move Solari," she grunted. "The smell of this place is making me heave."

The slaver accompanied them to the newly-repaired front gate, then waved to Lilith as the four women walked off through the woods. Stophacles, this has been your lucky day after all.

* * *

As soon as they were safely out of earshot of the slaver camp, Gabrielle started giggling almost uncontrollably. "‘Oh, be kind and spare me’," she mocked. "Puh-leeze! Laying it on pretty thick weren’t you?"

Lilith chuckled. "And what was that phrase? ‘Erase his sorry ass’? Colorful, young one, I will give you that."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Well, everything I learned about intimidation, I learned from Xena. Guess it works…" She sobered a little. "So, did he buy it?"

Lilith nodded thoughtfully. "I believe so. His greed was plain, as was his fear at the mention of further attack. There was some deception there, well hidden, but not, I think, directed at us."

Solari gave a loud snort. "He’s probably going to try and pull something on the mercenaries."

Gabrielle sighed, nodding. "Let’s hope … Agh!"

"What is it, young one?" Lilith asked.

The bard shook her head. "I was going to say let’s hope he can deal with them better than he dealt with us, but that’s stupid isn’t it?" She pursed her lips. "I should hope they squabble like children and kill each other off … that’s an awful thing to think though, right?"

The Priestess smiled and snaked an arm around Gabrielle’s waist as they continued walking. "I think the best course here, Gabrielle, is to think nothing," she suggested. "We have done what we can to protect ourselves. They will do as they will, and who is to say what that will be? The best we can hope is that they will leave us in peace, even as we guard against the possibility they will not."

Gabrielle shrugged. "I guess."

Solari snorted again. "Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to hope they slaughter each other." She chuckled. "If nothing else, it’d give me time to enjoy one last massage before we leave Kesan."

The bard shot her a look of playful annoyance. "Solari, you are incorrigible."

The Amazon laughed. "I take it as it comes, my Queen … I take it as it comes…"

* * *

Just before mid-day, Stophacles was in his tent, celebrating with his second mug of ale when Pollux and Race burst through the front flaps. "My men tell me," Pollux growled, "that you had a visit from the Amazon Queen and whoever is leading that gang of whores."

"Yes, and…" the slaver began to reply.

"So why didn’t you come get us?" Race hissed, looking even more intimidating than usual with a rude, blood-stained bandage over his missing eye.

Stophacles made himself breathe evenly. Don’t give an inch, but take this one really, really slow. "Because you two were … occupied. I was under the impression that breaking in during that argument would be bad for my health. In any case, this is still my operation. What business is it if yours?"

"If you sell us out, slaver," Pollux said, voice low with menace, "that would make it our business."

Stophacles sighed. "In fact, quite the opposite." He set his mug down, did a little math in his head, then hoped he was right about trusting the Priestess. "I’ve decided," he announced, "that this is no longer a profit-making exercise. I’m shutting it down. We can all move on."

The two mercenaries looked at each other briefly. "You’d better have something more than that," Race growled. "We’ve lost a lot of men…"

"So have I!" Stophacles spat. "And no thanks to you two, I might add. I hired you because you said you could handle Meleager and the Amazons. Now I’ve lost men, equipment, my partner, and probably my reputation. It’s a wash!"

"Centaur crap!" Pollux shot back. "You never told us about Xena! Gods, if I’d known that woman was leading an army again…"

"An unfortunate development I couldn’t have foreseen," Stophacles said simply, sitting back and folding his arms. "If I had, I wouldn’t be here either. I’m just thankful she didn’t come to ‘negotiate’ herself – likely I wouldn’t be speaking to you now."

"If she had, I would have cut her heart out!" Race scowled. "Bitch took my eye!"

Pollux put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. "What, exactly, did they negotiate?"

"Nothing," Stophacles shrugged. "Their Queen simply pointed out our losses were staggering and theirs were nonexistent. They also mentioned the whores were holed up somewhere safe, and they had reinforcements coming. Considering we’ve lost the wagons and have no means of transporting that many slaves – and given you two can’t seem to protect me – I gave in."

"You miserable coward!" Race spat.

Stophacles shrugged again. "I’m a businessman, not a soldier. I’m cutting my losses. It’s over," he said simply, then gave an exaggerated sigh. "Here…" He reached into his gauntlet and pulled out the bag, then tossed it towards Pollux. "Take these and the extra horses. Consider us paid in full. Now get out of my tent. I’ve got a lot of drinking to do … and send in my sergeant."

The two mercenaries looked over the diamonds, then looked at each other. "OK Stophacles," Pollux said coldly, "we leave at dawn. But if I ever see you again, you are a dead man."

The slaver dismissed them with a wave of his hand as he hefted his mug again. "You and half of Greece," he muttered.

Outside the tent, Race turned to his partner. "What do you think?"

"Assuming he told us roughly the truth?" Pollux replied. "Doesn’t make sense. If you were the Warrior Princess, or even an Amazon Queen and had reinforcements coming, why drop in and tell that to your enemy? They’ve already worn us down, why not step in for the kill?"

"Hmmm…" Race mused. "‘Holed up someplace safe’ … Where could that be?"

"Have to be somewhere close – a day, day and a half’s ride at most," Pollux said thoughtfully. "Gotta be a walled city. I don’t think there are any caves large enough nearby."

"I think Meleager was captain of the guard at Kesan once," Race offered. "If you rode without stopping, that’s about a day and a half south."

"Then that’s it." Pollux scanned the sky. "Unfortunately, that’s one iron egg we won’t crack, not with the number of men we have left."

"Agreed," Race replied, resisting the urge to scratch at his empty eye socket. "We should head west in the morning. With luck we can cut them off when they start moving again. What do we do with the whores?"

Pollux pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Who cares? We’re soldiers, not slavers – killing unarmed women doesn’t bring any glory. I say we have some fun and then just leave ‘em." He chuckled coldly, then resumed his usual snarl. "Slaughtering an Amazon army led by Xena and Meleager," he grinned, "now that’s an accomplishment. We don’t have the slavers and their stupid wagons to slow us down anymore, and with the extra horses we can move fast and strike hard. That’s a victory we can be proud of … I’m not about to lose my reputation."

"Agreed."

Stophacles sipped his ale until the sergeant arrived. It suddenly occurred to the slaver he couldn’t remember the man’s name, and wasn’t even sure he’d ever learned it. Oh well … "Sergeant, come here," he said, standing and motioning the man over.

"Yes sir?" the soldier responded wearily.

"Do you, um, remember where that whore said she’d leave the diamonds?" Stophacles took a step closer. Hmmm … he’s kind of young … must be one of Klytus’.

The sergeant grinned. "Of course sir – western road, under a rock south of the fork. Why? Did you forget?"

"Nah," Stophacles chuckled, moving closer and placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. "Just checking to see if you did. You’ve … you’ve been a pretty good man, son."

"Thank you sir," he replied, still smiling.

"I just wanted to say … sorry." With that, the slaver clamped his left hand over the sergeant’s mouth while his right drove a dagger up under the young man’s sternum. The sergeant collapsed backward and Stophacles followed, keeping his hand firmly in place while he swiveled the knife around. The young man kicked and shuddered a few times, then went still.

The slaver knelt back with a sigh. "Sorry, but you’re just not part of my retirement plan." He withdrew his dagger, wiped it off, then threw a bedroll over the body. In minutes he had changed out of his armor and into less conspicuous peasant clothes. He took one last swig of ale, a final look around his tent, then shouldered the small pack he’d made up earlier. With that, he slipped out the back of the tent, his mind once again turning to ways he could disappear off the face of the Earth.

The bard sat astride Argo, in front for once, actually holding the reins while Xena sat behind. The warrior had one hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder while the other held on around the smaller woman’s bare midriff. "Finally," Gabrielle sighed, barely staying conscious as the walls came into view, "Kesan."

As it had turned out, of course, Xena had quite deliberately disobeyed the bard’s orders that the warrior get some sleep. The negotiating party had run into the tall, armored woman within a few hundred yards of the slaver’s camp, where she and Meleager had been anxiously keeping an eye on things. At first Gabrielle had been angry, then threw up her hands. "Warriors! What else could I expect?" she had said with exaggerated exasperation.

The raiding party had broken camp quickly and headed back for the city at an only slightly less demanding pace than they had left it. They were far too tired to put up much resistance if the slavers and mercenaries decided to renege on the deal, and the sooner they could reach the safety of Kesan, the better, so they pushed on.

Everyone had taken turns sleeping as best they could in the now empty wagon. While Meleager had dozed, Lilith had surreptitiously switched clothing with Morgin and taken over all the scouting duty, since the immortal needed no rest whatsoever – a duty she assumed with an odd mix of gravity and undisguised glee. Gabrielle watched this with a bard’s eye. Immortals … who can figure ‘em? she mentally snorted, too tired to reach any other conclusion.

Then Gabrielle had discovered that Xena somehow managed to sleep in the saddle. "Let me guess," the bard chided after waking the warrior the first time she noticed, "one of your many skills?"

"Oh yeah," her warrior had replied with an exhausted smile. That was when Gabrielle had suggested a slightly different riding arrangement so Xena could sleep a little more soundly. The bard hadn’t been much less tired herself, but the sensation of her warrior pressed so tight against her, not to mention partially wrapped around her, was enough to keep her fully alert – even if it did put some strain on her meager riding skills.

Likely have that armor imprinted on my back for a week, she had mused, but by Artemis, it’s worth it.

For her part, Xena had allowed the bard to climb up in front because – in a rare moment of extreme self-honesty – the warrior realized that if her loyal mount kept moving, she was likely to fall out of the saddle. With her arms around her bard however, the hours seemed to glide by on a lazy current of warmth.

Every so often Gabrielle would caress the forearm which held her waist, or in Xena’s more awake, upright moments, lean her strawberry-blond head back against the warrior’s shoulder. It was simple, physical closeness, and within it, the terrible darkness Xena had been immersed in for the last several days seemed far, far away. Always comes back to this, doesn’t it? The warrior thought. I feel like I’m slipping over the edge for good, and she always brings me back. Doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Gods, I can’t believe I need her this much … can’t believe she gives herself to me this much.

Just past mid-day the band of thoroughly exhausted soldiers (plus one immortal – and the body of one all-too-mortal Amazon scout) reached the inn. They were immediately surrounded by the remaining Guardians and the rest of Lilith’s followers, and after a brief minute of cheers and congratulations, many found themselves practically carried to their rooms.

Xena took a moment to make sure Argo was being looked after, while Gabrielle addressed the Amazons. "Tomorrow afternoon," the bard said solemnly, "we’ll have a pyre for Tanith – full honors, as she deserves. Her ashes will be returned to the Amazon nation as a hero should. Artemis bless our sister and guide her to the peace of Eternity."

"To Eternity," the Amazons intoned, Adrea finally breaking down into shuddering sobs. A number of Amazons immediately surrounded her, holding her and offering words of comfort.

Gabrielle began to step forward, but Solari put a hand on the bard’s arm. "It’s OK, my Queen," she said gently. "I’ll look after her. You look after Xena … She’s been going for what? At least five days now? And you not much less. Look after each other, you both deserve it – although why I’m the last to find out about these things…" She let her voice trail off with a smile.

"Thank you Solari," Gabrielle smiled back, too tired to even blush. "See you tomorrow."

The bard took the stairs as quickly as she could – which, in truth, wasn’t very fast. Having been awake for the better part of three days she was bone-weary as she could ever remember being, and her limbs were starting to refuse to work right. Eventually she reached the top of the stairs and entered their room, finding Xena sitting on one of the chairs, fumbling with the shoulder strap of her armor. Without a word Gabrielle took over, although with only slightly better success.

"Thanks … I think," the warrior chuckled. It took much longer than usual, but before long Xena’s armor, leathers and breeches were piled in a rough heap on the floor.

Gabrielle knelt in front of the warrior, running her hands over the bandages around Xena’s ribs. "Should … should probably re-wrap these…" she muttered, having trouble focusing as her eyelids drooped.

"Nah," Xena grunted, idly running a hand down Gabrielle’s face. "They’ve held up ‘til now. They can hold up a little longer. Sleep…"

"Yeah," Gabrielle mumbled, slowly standing and holding out her arm. "C’mon…"

Together they shuffled towards the bed, although who exactly was supporting the other was impossible to tell. They fell across it, a tangle of limbs, and for a moment they both just lay there.

"Boots," the warrior mumbled.

"Huhmmm?" Gabrielle snorted.

Xena laughed. "We’re both still wearin’ boots…"

"Right, right…" the bard grunted, practically falling to the floor. She fell over a couple more times, but finally managed to remove the warrior’s offending footwear. Xena hauled the bard back up onto the bed, then with a little fumbling, got the laces of Gabrielle’s boots loose enough to yank them off.

They lay there for a moment more, then Xena raised her head with a dreamy smile. "Heyyy…" she grumbled, "You got clothes on … I’m naked … gorgeous when you’re naked…"

Eyes still closed, Gabrielle smiled, stretched her arms above her head. "Gofr’it…"

Although by now her hands didn’t seem to work any better than her partner’s, Xena somehow managed to get the laces of the bard’s top undone, then the belt of her skirt. Fortunately, Gabrielle was still conscious enough to lift her body at the right moments for Xena to work the garments off. One after the other, the bard’s top, skirt, and finally, breeches were flung clean across the room.

"Better…" The warrior mumbled, pulling her bard over on top of her until Gabrielle was curled up nicely right where they both liked it, red-gold head pillowed on Xena’s shoulder, one leg up over Xena’s hip.

"Blankits?" Gabrielle mumbled.

"Tartarus with ‘em…" Xena grunted.

In an instant, both warrior and bard were in a deep sleep that would last almost twenty-four hours.

* * *

Xena awoke with a start, heart pounding, her still-dreaming mind chasing some barely remembered phantom – something ringed with blood and fire. Two things instantly calmed her: The sunlight that streamed through the open window was one, although, she had to admit, that was secondary.

The warm weight of Gabrielle covered her like a blanket for her shivering soul, and the warrior gratefully closed her eyes again. It was so good, so right, nestled together like this, that Xena simply wished it would never end. Within her gentle bard’s embrace, she felt loved, connected, and so … so…

Admit it. Safe. Xena sighed, then chuckled to herself. The Destroyer of Nations… But it was true. Gabrielle made her feel many things, but the one that affected her deepest was that within the love her bard offered so freely, she felt safe. Safe from her own dark past. Safe from the hatred and mistrust her past insured would follow her to the end of her days. Safe from her own anger. Safe from her own self-conjured demons.

She held the sleeping woman in her arms a little tighter. Gabrielle… For years Xena the warlord had fought to prove she was outside the rest of humanity. The warlord could never be touched, had proven time and again she could take anything the world threw at her and laugh at it.

Until one day a simple village girl, a trusting, patient, and infinitely understanding young soul had found the chinks in the armor, cheerfully let herself inside, and against all odds, decided she liked what she saw. And every day, in ways both important and inconsequential, she had drawn the warlord out and shown her that it was all right to just be human, after all. Aw, come on Xena … enough of this. She’s easy on the eyes too. That doesn’t hurt either.

Yet even with her eyes still closed, the warrior reveled in the warm feeling of bare skin on bare skin, in the trust and caring that surrounded the simple act of drifting off together, naked and close. Like I said, I could sure get used to waking up this way … could do without the nightmares though.

Xena sighed. The warrior couldn’t remember the last time she’d been forced awake by something from her past haunting her sleep. Why’d it have to happen now? Then she gave a wry mental snort. Simple, dumb warrior – you’ve been killing people for the last week. What did you expect?

She opened her eyes again and looked down at Gabrielle’s open, sleeping face, wondering for the millionth time why such a gentle, innocent soul would choose to share her life, and her heart, with a woman who had laid waste to whole nations. And who still gets a thrill from killing, the warrior ruefully acknowledged. Wasn’t like you were lying when you said it was fun.

Xena was broken out of her self-recrimination as the young woman laying over her slowly began to stir, then raised her strawberry-blonde head slightly and broke into a dreamy, wonderful smile. "Mornin’…" she mumbled.

The warrior chuckled. "Afternoon is more like it."

"Whatever…" Gabrielle replied sleepily.

With the bard’s face against her shoulder, the warrior could feel Gabrielle’s smile spreading just before the young woman kissed the side of Xena’s breast – which, the taller woman noted in all fairness, was the closest thing to her lips. Handy, or deliberate? Xena tried to decide.

The bard’s smile grew wider as Gabrielle said softly, "I like waking up like this though … whatever time it is. You’re a nice pillow." Then she snuggled closer, if that was possible, her hand idly running over Xena’s rippled stomach, the smooth curve of her hip.

"Mmm…" the warrior purred. "I was just thinking the same thing…" Gabrielle’s slow caress was beginning to warm her in other ways that didn’t exactly have to do with her soul. She could still feel the tingling hint of where the young woman’s lips had pressed into her breast, and noted how with their legs twined together Gabrielle’s sex was just touching her own thigh, wiry hair and warm, intimate flesh barely tickling, definitely tantalizing. I wonder if she knows what she’s doing to me? Probably not, Xena mused, trying to ignore her rising desire.

"Ribs still bothering you?" Gabrielle asked, running her fingers over the bandages … and somehow managing to run feather-light across the underside of Xena’s breasts at the same time.

The warrior squirmed a bit, then tried to mask it as an experimental stretch. The ribs … oh yeah … hardly notice ‘em … no problem there… "Uh, no, not really. Just the one that was broken, and it feels fine. I feel fine … guess I just needed to lie still for a while."

"So they’re healing OK then?" The bard continued caressing the almost loose strips of cloth – the tips of her thumb and forefinger still just brushing within a spare inch of slowly hardening nipples.

"Yeah … healing fine." Then again, maybe she does know what she’s doing … Either way, I’m in trouble. Xena caught the young woman’s roving hand and gave it a light squeeze. "So, are you, um … hungry?"

The bard raised her head, green eyes meeting blue. "Oh yeah," Gabrielle replied, with just the hint of an impish smile. In an instant she smothered Xena’s mouth with her own, giving her warrior a quick, if hard and very wet kiss, then slid off the bed. "But maybe we should get some food first." Oooh bad! Bad bard!

Gabrielle took two steps across the room. Oh gods, where in Tartarus are my clothes! the small woman thought in desperation, realizing she hadn’t thought this thing through very well.

Sure enough, a spare second later strong arms gripped her around the waist, lifting her off the floor as she squealed. Before she even knew what was happening, she was being spun and jostled, then hurled through the air, landing with a loud "Ooomph!" back on the bed. Before Gabrielle could even take in what was happening, Xena had covered her entire body, pinning the smaller woman to the mattress. It seemed like not a inch of her bare flesh wasn’t covered by the tantalizingly warm skin of her warrior.

Xena’s face was hovering just inches from Gabrielle’s, fixing the bard with a look that could only be described as lovingly predatory. "I should take you over my knee and give you a good spanking," she growled playfully, "teach you a lesson about teasing high-strung warriors."

"Promises, promises," Gabrielle gasped, looking as defiant as she possibly could. "Any other lessons you got in mind?"

Xena raised a genuinely surprised eyebrow. "Oh yeah," she growled again, pressing her mouth hungrily back down over Gabrielle’s. Their lips crushed against each other almost painfully, and when the young bard parted hers, Xena pushed her tongue between them, running it sensually across Gabrielle’s front teeth, then all around inside the young woman’s willing mouth briefly before pulling away with a wet, sucking sound.

Then Xena was sitting on the edge of the bed, inhaling lightly before saying, with surprising calm, "But maybe we should get some food first."

Gabrielle pressed her fists into her forehead and gave a loud groan. "Ahhh gods! Guess I deserved that…"

"Nah," Xena chuckled, reaching down and gently stroking her bard’s taught belly, "but maybe we should think about getting up, at least for a little while –"

"Merciful Artemis!" Gabrielle gasped, sitting upright. "Tanith’s funeral! Ahhh, you’re right. What was I thinking?"

Xena blinked. The warrior’s main thought had been about a nice, sensual bath, maybe a brief talk to work through any anxiety her young, soon-to-be lover might have about, well, her first time with another woman – ‘cause we never did get to talk about that – then straight back to bed. Any other obligations had been miles away.

Gods, what was I thinking? Xena shook her head, then mentally shrugged, imposing some measure of control over her growing desire. Finally, she smiled and stood, holding out her hand. "Come on, oh Queen," she said, with a husky edge she couldn’t help, "let’s go. I’ll make it up to you later."

"Reeeally?" Gabrielle replied, her tone just as sultry.

"Oh yeah," the warrior practically growled, hauling the smaller woman to her feet.

The bath which followed was something of a sweet torture for both of them.

* * *

Continued...Part 5 of 6

Return to The Bard's Corner