DISCLAIMERS:
Most
of these characters belong to Studios USA and any other owners of Xena: Warrior Princess and
Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. This
story was not written for profit and no copyright infringements are intended.
The story itself is mine. Please
don't reproduce it, in whole or in part, without asking first.
A
few ideas came from Lois and Clark: The
New Adventures of Superman, "When Irish Eyes Are Killing," episode
written by Grant Rosenberg. No
copyright infringements intended toward DC Comics, Warner Brothers, or December
Third Productions. NO, this is NOT
a Xena/Superman cross-over. This is
classic alt Xena/Gabrielle
Kallerine
is back. Once again, this is not a
Buffy/Xena crossover. Kallerine is
an Amazon bacchae slayer who just happens to look like Sarah Michelle Gellar.
Violence:
Take one warrior princess, blend thoroughly with a bardic Amazon queen, toss in
the king of thieves, add one feisty red-headed druid, sprinkle in a few
greedy villains, mix liberally with a handful of Amazons, and yeah, some swords
are likely to cross.
Maintext:
Rated R. Two women in love who
sleep together as often as possible.
Questions/Comments/Suggestions
welcome: texbard@earthlink.net
Updates
Only List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/texbardupdates
Updates/Chat
List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/texbard
Setting:
This story falls sequentially after "Divinity."
For those new to the Xena/Gabrielle series, it is in order, "March
the 16th," "A Solstice Treaty," "The Sixth
Sense," Cleopatra 4 A.D.," and "Divinity."
To read them, go to my website: http://home.earthlink.net/~texbard
and click on the link for my stories.
Additional
Background Info: My Xena/Gabrielle
series parts ways with the show after the 4th season.
What that means is no pregnant warrior, no Eve, no 25-year ice cave time
warp, no twilight of the gods, no new chakram, no angel Callisto, no Akhemi, and
no battlin' bard (although Gab does fight in this series both with staff and
with sais, she just isn't the killing machine she became in the 5th
season). Cyrene, Toris, Amarice,
Eponin, Gab's family, Eli, Hercules, Iolaus, all the Greek gods, and especially
Xena, are very much alive. Octavian
is still a very young Roman leader. Joxer
is dead because he died in my first story.
Callisto is in Hell for breaking her deal with the devil to not
physically harm Xena during "The Ides of March."
Also in this timeline, they last saw Alti during "Between the
Lines," when Xena chakkied Gab's hair off.
I have made Xena's history in the Norse lands a part of her history in
the series, but only up to the part where she locked up Grindle, so in this
Xenaverse, Grindle is still locked up with the ring.
My Xena never has, and never will, set foot on the island of Japan.
Note
on Tamara Gorski: For Herc fans, she was Morrigan, and appeared in half the 5th
season episodes.
THE
EYES OF EIRE
(a.k.a
Amazons, Druids & Thieves, Oh My)
By Texbard
Chapter
3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rag-tag group sat on rough benches at a long table in a tavern near the harbor of Pirgos. Both Amarice and Raella were nursing tall mugs of herb-laced tea, fighting off what the warrior hoped were minor colds, and not the more severe consumption from which she herself had just recovered. Eponin groused, fussing with her leathers and slugging back a tankard of strong ale in a futile effort to put a damper on her own foul mood. Xena was off to her cousin's stables with Kallerine in tow. The younger Amazon had jumped at the chance to assist her idol in taking the horses for safekeeping until they returned from Eire.
"So . . ." Gabrielle urged Morrigan. "Tell us about Eire. What's it like?"
The druid sat at the end of the table, one booted foot propped against the sturdy crossed table legs in a posture that very much reminded the bard of her soulmate's body language. With Xena it usually meant one of two things: either the warrior was feeling cocky, or she was merely feeling comfortable with her surroundings. Morrigan simply appeared to be relieved to be sitting down.
They had traveled from dawn until dusk the prior day, and then elected to travel on through half the night, reaching the inn near midnight. The innkeeper had been more than eager to assist them in securing rooms when they roused him out of bed. The inn was all but empty in the dead of winter, and he needed every dinar he could get. The exhausted group of women slept in, and had only been up for a few candle marks, already making preparations for the long sea voyage yet to come.
"Eire . . ." Morrigan dropped her foot to the floor and sat up taller, her face becoming animated as she spoke. "It's the most beautiful place on earth, with valleys and hills so green, ya would swear they couldna be real. Early in the mornin', ya can step outside, and the air smells so fresh and clean, perfumed with flowers and thick grass. The people are a friendly lot, and most of 'em 'ave never met a stranger. Some days, the storms will rage and the winds howl, and others, the sun will come out in a blaze o' glory."
"Can't wait to see some of those green hills," the weapons master smiled for the first time that day.
"Sorry to disappoint ya . . ." the druid regretfully responded. "Actually, at this time o' year, most o' Eire will be covered in snow."
A collective groan made its way around the table, and Eponin's face took on a permanent scowl. She got up without a word, and stormed up to the bar, returning a long while later with a fresh tankard. She sat down in a huff and took a large gulp, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth to remove a foamy moustache.
Gabrielle barely made out her muttered "gods-be-damned winter" comment, and pursed her lips in thought. A gentle tug at her sleeve caught her attention, and she turned to meet two bloodshot eyes.
"Gabrielle," Amarice's shoulders slumped, and she was leaning on her forearms against the tabletop, her features pale from low-grade fever. "I . . . um . . . I've never been on a boat. Some of the others, back in the village, they mentioned something called the sea sickness. Is it really that bad?"
"Not a good person to be asking," a low voice answered from behind them. "Gabrielle's the only person I ever met who got sick while the boat was still tied to the dock."
The bard peered up and over her shoulder. A pair of smiling blue eyes twinkled back at her, and she spared a grin for her memories of her much younger self. "True, but Xena taught me a sure-fire cure." Gabrielle took Amarice's hand and showed her the pressure points that she had used to ward off the crippling waves of nausea that she had first been introduced to on Ulysses' boat. "Just think twice about what you eat while you're using them."
"Why?" The tall Amazon was already practicing, just in case, her fingers pressing deeply against her inner wrist.
"Numbs your taste buds." The wind-blown warrior removed her cloak and hung it on a nearby peg, before she plopped down at the other end of the table and immediately propped up a booted foot, causing Gabrielle to smile.
"Yeah, I ate a good portion of a raw squid the first time I ever used them." The bard watched Amarice turn greenish-gray, and the tall woman bolted out the front door of the tavern. Oops. Forgot she was already feeling puny. "Sorry," the bard yelled after her.
"That
doesn't bode well for the trip," Xena commented, her eyes sweeping across
Raella and Morrigan, and coming to rest on Eponin.
"What's wrong with Pony?"
She leaned over, talking low into Gabrielle's ear.
"Don't
know. She's either tired of the
snow or cycling." Quizzical
green eyes paused in thought. "'Course
we are talking about Pony here. She's
just one degree more gruff than on a typical day."
"Good
point." Xena leaned
back, making contact with the wall directly behind her.
A barmaid brought her a mug of port, unbidden, the young woman blushing
and smiling at her as she slowly backed away from the table.
"Geez."
The weapons master watched the obviously smitten girl disappear back
behind the bar. "What is it
with you? I swear, all you have to
do is walk into a place, and the women fall at your feet."
Eponin's frown grew more pronounced, and she took another healthy sip of
ale.
"What?"
Wide innocent eyes questioned her. "Whaddad
I do?" She looked over at
Gabrielle, who was suddenly very interested in the stained table top, a tiny
grin playing at the corners of her mouth.
The
bard nudged her leg. "Nothing, stud. Not
a thing. Just drink your
port."
A
genuinely puzzled warrior complied. "Just
sat down at the table, that's all," she muttered softly between sips.
"I
know. It's okay, honey."
Gabrielle caught the barmaid watching them. The girl was admittedly pretty, with long wavy brown hair and
big hazel eyes. Her trim figure was
set off nicely by a form-fitting soft woolen dress in a pale yellow hue.
Their eyes met, and the bard slipped a proprietary hand into the crook of
Xena's arm. The girl tossed her
hair over her shoulder with disdain, and turned pointedly away.
Heh. Gabrielle
grinned smugly. Mine.
The
exchange was not lost on the warrior. She
waited, biding her time until the barmaid turned back around.
The girl batted her eyelashes meaningfully, but the warrior pretended not
to notice. She set her mug down and
curled the fingers of her other hand around the one resting against her arm.
Just as Gabrielle felt their hands meet, and looked up at her, Xena
tilted her head, finding her lips, where she planted a quick firm kiss.
"Wha
. . .?" The bard licked her
lips in pleasant surprise.
"I
don't care about any women falling at my feet."
She squeezed Gabrielle's hand. "The
only one that matters is seated right here next to me."
Her
words were low, for Gabrielle's ears only.
From the other end of the table, a wistful Morrigan watched them.
Xena continued to speak softly to her partner, and the bard commented
thoughtfully back to her, her face glowing with quiet joy.
While she couldn't hear their words, the love between the two women was
starkly evident.
"Get
used to it," Eponin quipped. "They've
been like that for almost a year now, with no sign of letting up."
"Only
a year?" Morrigan turned to face her, grateful for the diversion.
The chemistry between warrior and bard stirred up longings she thought
she had managed to suppress.
"Well
. . ." The weapons master
drawled, looking up at the thatched ceiling as she made mental calculations.
"They've traveled together for about five years now.
Truth be told, when Xena died that first time, I could have told them
they were in love way back then."
"The
first time?" The druid suddenly felt the need for a drink of her own.
"How many times 'as she died, exactly?"
"Two
for sure," Eponin answered matter-of-factly.
"'Course, even before we had that first funeral pyre for her, the
Queen talks about a time when Xena was hit with a poison dart.
She swears she thinks Xena died that time too, so it may be three times.
Definitely at the crucifixion. And
that other time that I mentioned. That
was when Gabrielle first became our queen."
She looked toward the end of the table, trying to reconcile the
self-assured woman with the much more uncertain girl she had first met.
Even
Gabrielle's face had matured in a few short years, taking on angles and planes
that replaced the chubby cheeks the weapons master remembered.
Not to mention the muscular body that the bard carried with a confidence
beyond her tender years. There was
no trace of the layer of baby fat that had once covered the body of a much more
naïve Gabrielle. Guess keeping
up with Xena would do that to a person.
Her
thoughts were interrupted, as Kallerine entered the tavern supporting a very
pale Amarice. "Xena, I checked
out that flyer like you asked. It's
current."
The
warrior looked up from her private conversation and smiled broadly.
"Good. What did you
tell him?"
"Just
what you said," the slayer guided her lover back to the table and helped
the tall redhead sit down. "Told
him an old friend was interested in the job, and would be down in a bit to
discuss the terms of the position."
"Perfect,"
the rich voice purred.
"Flyer?"
Gabrielle looked first at Kallerine and then back at Xena.
"Job? Xena, what job?
I thought we were going to Eire."
"We
are." The warrior produced a
rolled up piece of parchment from her belt, carefully laying it flat on the
table surface.
The
bard read it twice and smiled. "Oh."
"What?"
Eponin got up and made her way around, peering over Gabrielle's shoulder,
slowly reading the carefully lettered flyer.
"You gonna hire yourself out as someone's first mate?"
"That's
the plan," the warrior leaned back, clasping her hands behind her head and
stretching out her long legs under the table.
"With any luck we'll all get free passage to Eire as part of the
deal."
"I
didna know you could sail a boat, Xena."
Morrigan joined them, taking her turn at perusing the parchment.
"I
have many skills," the warrior raised one eyebrow, effecting a nonchalant
attitude. The Amazons were familiar
with the oft-repeated phrase, but nonetheless nodded their heads in heartfelt
agreement. Only Gabrielle rolled
her eyes, and gently poked her partner in the ribs.
Xena dodged the offending digit and captured the bard's hand, not letting
go. "So, is everyone ready to
go on a little cruise?"
The
group slowly got up from the table and collected their bags.
Gabrielle slipped away from them and cornered the innkeeper, intent on
talking him down from his original quote of ten dinars per room.
As she opened her mouth to speak, the barmaid knelt down to wipe up a
puddle of spilled ale. When she
reached out, her dress slipped down slightly from her shoulder, revealing an
ugly purple bruise across her back.
"Can
I help you, miss?" The
innkeeper forced her to look back at him.
"Um
. . ." The bard absently
opened her belt pouch, handing him forty dinars without thought.
"Yeah, just paying for our rooms."
The
man looked at the coins, turning one of them over in his hand.
He looked from the coin to Gabrielle.
"Hey, isn't this your face on here?"
"Uh-huh."
The bard sat down on a stool at the bar. "I'm Queen Gabrielle of the Greek Amazons."
The
barmaid heard her and stood up, turning around and listening quietly.
Gabrielle winced internally, studying the girl's face at much closer
range. The remains of a fading
bruise circled one eye, and there was a long angry welt across her collarbone
that disappeared beneath the neckline of her dress.
She can't be more than sixteen summers old.
"Huh,
well what do you know?" The
innkeeper's eyes narrowed, and he smirked sarcastically.
"Here I was hosting royalty, and I didn't even know it." His emphasis on the word 'royalty' made it clear that he had
little use for Amazons, and place little value on whoever might lead them.
He made his way into a back room to hide the coins, leaving the barmaid
alone behind the bar.
"Could
I get a cup of water?" The
bard asked politely.
The
girl drew a dipper from a bucket and poured up the requested drink, handing it
to the bard at arm's length.
"Hey."
Gabrielle gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm an Amazon, not a cannibal."
The
girl appraised her for a silent moment, but her earlier attitude was completely
gone, replaced with quietly piqued interest.
"Never met an Amazon before."
"Now
you have." The bard held out her hand.
"I'm Gabrielle. What's
your name?"
"Johanna."
The girl briefly clasped forearms with her.
"What
happened to your eye?' Gabrielle
motioned toward the fading bruise.
"Oh."
The girl looked nervously back toward the room where the innkeeper had
gone. "Bumped it on the
counter when I was bending over."
"How
about your back?" The bard
watched the fearful eyes grow angry.
"That's
really none of your business." She
looked down, rolling her hands in her apron.
Gabrielle
leaned forward. "He beats you, doesn't he?"
Pained
hazel eyes looked back up, and the girl nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Your
father?"
"Uncle,"
the girl whispered. "Father
died last year."
"I'm
sorry," Gabrielle closed her eyes in painful memory.
Are there any loving uncles in this world?
"Where's your mother?"
"Never
knew her, she died giving birth to me."
Johanna looked around again and busied herself wiping down the bar.
"Do
you want out?" The question hung in heavy silence.
"I
. . . I can't . . ." A single
tear trickled down the girl's cheek. "How?"
"It's
up to you," the bard whispered. "If
you want out, be at the large boat at the very end of the docks by
sundown."
"But
. . ."
Gabrielle
heard heavy footsteps, and the innkeeper appeared back in the doorway.
"Everything okay out here?"
He eyed them suspiciously.
"Yes.
Fine." The bard
re-shouldered one of her bags. "I
was just leaving."
"Safe
journey." His words were flat and insincere. He disappeared again.
Slimy
piece of centaur dung.
"I have to go, Johanna," she locked eyes with the girl.
"Your choice. You want
out, you be there. Ask for
Xena."
"Xena?"
The girl watched her new friend, who was already standing at the side of
the tall attractive warrior she had flirted with earlier.
That's Xena? She felt
faint, and gripped the edge of the bar.
"Everything
okay?" The warrior looked back over Gabrielle's shoulder, where the
barmaid was watching them with great intensity.
"Yeah,
for now." The bard followed her gaze.
"You
sure?" Xena read the unmasked
pain in her partner's eyes, and rested a concerned hand on her shoulder,
squeezing it and urging her closer.
"I'll
fill you in when we get to the boat."
Gabrielle leaned in, accepting a warm side-hug.
"Okay."
The warrior raised her voice so that everyone could hear her.
"Let's get going, then. Last
boat on the right at the end of the docks."
They
stepped out into the cold air, picking their away across the inn's yard and down
a cobbled path that had been cleared of snow.
The dirty white banks were piled up on either side of them, but luckily,
the skies were clear and bright blue, promising at least a brief reprieve from
more blizzards.
Soon
they reached the wide wooden docks, their feet making a loud collective clatter
as they passed a long double row of well-kept cargo boats, most of them in port
for the duration of winter. At
last, they reached their destination, and the warrior moved past the rest,
walking up the gangplank and stopping just on the edge of the ship's deck.
"Ahoy,"
she called out. "I hear you're
looking for a first mate for a voyage to Eire."
A
portly man stood up, appearing from behind the ship's wheel, his back to them.
He spit into a cup and wiped his mouth.
What damned woman thinks she can captain a boat?
He turned around and slowly a smile appeared, framed by a long white
beard. "Xena!"
"Hello,
Ronan." The warrior clasped forearms with their old friend.
"Hi."
Gabrielle carefully stepped aboard, followed by the four Amazons and the
druid.
"Gabrielle!"
Ronan moved forward, engulfing the bard in a bear hug.
Her feet briefly left the ground before he set her back down again.
"Yer
hired, and the two of ya can 'ave the first-mate's cabin, just like last
time." He studied the small
entourage standing behind them. "Who
are yer friends?" He looked
back at Xena. "What takes ya
to Eire, Xena, it's a cold time o' year to be travelin'."
"We're
on a mission, Ronan." The
warrior grinned. "'Bout the
only reason you'll ever find me on a boat.
"Mission?"
Ronan tugged at his beard. "Xena,
the last time I took ya on a mission, ya ended up fighting a war in Egypt."
The
warrior laughed quietly. "True. This
mission isn't quite the same. Here,
meet another friend from Eire, Morrigan."
She introduced the druid to the captain.
His
face tilted to the side, and he thought for a long moment.
"You . . . I know
you."
"Ya
do?" Morrigan placed her hands
on her hips, and then she gasped softly. Visions
of a dock in Britannia, and a bittersweet kiss flooded her brain.
Blessed be. "Yes, ya do."
It was her turn to clasp forearms. "I'm
a friend o' Hercules."
"Yes."
The captain smiled warmly. "How
is Hercules? Have you two tied the
knot yet?"
"Couldna
tell ya how he is." Morrigan
looked down at her feet. "Nice
to meet ya, Ronan. Can ya direct me
to ma cabin?"
"Sure."
A puzzled captain raised a questioning eyebrow at Xena.
She
mouthed the word 'later' back at him.
"Xena,
Gabrielle, ya know where yer cabin is."
He pointed toward the small deck-side room at the back of the boat.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll get the rest o' yer crew settled below
deck." The Amazons and
Morrigan dutifully followed him down the narrow ladder, large fearful eyes
peering back at warrior and bard, right before they all disappeared from view.
Gabrielle
looked up, and spied Johanna way down at the end of the dock, a small bag
clutched at her side. Uh-oh. That
was quick. "Xena, about
that talk I wanted to have with you . . ."
The
warrior heard the approaching footsteps and turned.
She squinted and then looked down at her partner, who was peering
guiltily up at her from beneath pale lashes, and smiling her most charming
smile. Xena groaned internally.
Why can't we ever go anywhere without complications? She gazed sternly at the bard, her voice low and controlled.
"Gabrielle . . .?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gabrielle
got Johanna settled into a lower berth and emerged topside, pushing wind-tossed
bangs from her eyes and cautiously surveying the deck.
She spotted the warrior leaning over the back railing and staring out
toward the endless horizon. Xena
shifted, sensing her presence, and turned partway around.
Blue eyes swept the bard's frame and nodded her head in an inviting
gesture.
Thank
the gods.
Gabrielle quickly closed the distance between them and took up a position
next to the warrior, assuming a similar stance, her forearms resting loosely
over the railing. "You mad at
me?"
"No."
Xena continued to study the water, her heavy cloak in place against the
brisk breeze. Only her head was
exposed, but she was impervious to the cold.
"I'm
sorry I didn't talk to you about it before we left the tavern."
Gabrielle looked up at the sharp profile.
"Didn't realize how quickly she would act."
The bard shivered, drawing her own wrap more closely around her body.
"No
need to apologize." The
warrior turned to face her, involuntarily pulling a forest green hood fully over
soft blonde hair. "Can't have
you catching cold, now can we?" Gabrielle
smiled. "I'm just trying to
figure out what to do with her. This
mission is complicated enough as it is."
The
bard hung her head and kicked half-heartedly at the bottom rail.
"Guess I've caused you trouble again, huh?"
Damn.
Xena reached out and placed one hand over Gabrielle's.
"No. You did the right
thing, Gabrielle. I would have done
the same. I'm just not sure that
she should go along with us. I may
wait until dusk and take her to my cousin's by the back streets.
He could harbor her there until we get back from Eire."
"And
then?" The bard twined their
fingers, feeling impossible warmth mingled with her own ice-cold hands.
"She isn't exactly Amazon material."
A quirky smile graced her lips, as Xena's other hand closed over their
joined ones, rubbing them to provide extra heat.
"True."
Xena pictured the yellow dress and ribbons in Johanna's hair.
"I'm thinking she might make a good server in mother's inn.
Figured maybe after our joining ceremony, mother and Toris could take her
back to Amphipolis with them."
"How
many servers can Mom handle?" Gabrielle
laughed softly. "Have you
heard how Maniah is working out?"
"Behaving
perfectly." Xena's upper lip
curled, remembering the elder Amazon's attempts to harm her partner.
"She better, or I'll kick her bony butt straight to the Amazon land
of the dead, even if I have to wade through waist-deep snow to do it.
Speaking of kicking butt . . .. "
She trailed off, as two men approached the boat at a rapid pace.
"Is
there a girl named Johanna on this boat?"
A large man with broad shoulders crossed his arms, resting one boot on
the edge of the boat, the wind riffling a thick black beard.
The innkeeper stood behind him, his face twisted with rage.
The
warrior listened intently, closing her eyes and cocking her head to the side.
The muffled sound of boots shuffling against wood reached her ears, along
with the faint hiss of several swords being drawn.
She focused, doing the math in her head, counting around two dozen men
hiding just beyond the dock house at the other end of the pier.
She leaned over and whispered into Gabrielle's ear.
"Go get Ronan and tell him to come up here.
Get Pony and Morrigan, too."
"But
. . ." The bard's hands were
itching to draw her sais.
"Please,
Gabrielle. I need you to do this."
Xena's own hand wrapped around her chakram.
Two
pairs of eyes warred for a moment, and the bard gave in.
With a final worried glance, she climbed down the ladder to the lower
deck, out of sight. The warrior
watched her leave, keeping the two men in her peripheral vision.
Finally, she stood to her full height and faced them.
"And what if she is here?"
She strode forward, stopping just short of the bearded man, her feet
planted firmly on the deck a shoulder's width apart, her own arms crossed.
"You come to add a few more bruises to the ones you already gave
her?" Ice blue eyes bore
through the innkeeper.
"Be
careful what you accuse me of, warrior."
The innkeeper moved from behind his muscular shield.
"You're Xena, aren't you? I
could haul you in for a dozen outstanding bounties."
The
warrior caught herself, just in time, keeping her reaction in check.
It was so easy to forget that in many parts of Greece, indeed, the known
world, she was still very much a wanted woman with a price on her head. She ignored the icy finger that ran up her spine, and moved
even closer, stepping off the boat and onto the gangplank, forcing the bearded
man to step backward. "You
wanna haul me in?" She allowed
the full force of her personality to surge to the forefront.
"And all you brought was lughead here?" She gestured toward the
larger man. "You may be able
to intimidate defenseless young girls, but it's gonna take a lot more than the
two of you and a score or so of amateur soldiers to bring me down."
An evil grin graced her lips, as the two men blanched, realizing their
hidden army was no secret.
They
quickly recovered. "We'll see
about that." The innkeeper
whistled, and the group of armed men appeared from around the dock house,
tramping along the boards in a disorganized fashion until they stood directly
behind the other two men. "Now,
either you let us aboard to retrieve my niece, or you take on the Pirgos
militia. Your choice."
Xena
scanned the angry faces, grateful that her cousin wasn't among the troops.
She heard footsteps behind her, recognizing Eponin's solid gait along
with what she had come to recognize as Morrigan's light tread.
The two women stopped on either side of her.
"Trouble?"
The weapons master held firmly to a thick Amazon quarterstaff.
"Yeah."
The warrior looked to the side. "Seems
these men think they're going to take Johanna back to the inn so her uncle here
can continue to use her for a sparring bag."
"Well
now . . ." Morrigan placed her hands on her hips. "Aren't ya a fine lot 'o cowards. Two dozen o' ya against three helpless women."
Helpless?
Xena smirked. The druid was rapidly growing on her. The smirk disappeared as she watched the militia move
forward, readying for a skirmish. She
heard Ronan's heavy steps on the deck and thanked whatever gods might be
listening. "Ronan, shove
off!"
"Xena
. . ." Gabrielle ran from the
captain's side to the edge of the deck, prepared to jump to the dock.
Kallerine was on her heels, the slayer's sword already drawn.
"Gabrielle,
you and Kallerine help Ronan with the sheets."
She spoke without looking at her partner, keeping a wary eye on the men
in front of her. "I know you
want to fight, but we've got this covered.
Ronan can't pull away from the docks without help.
I need your muscles on the boat."
The
bard hesitated, and then spoke in a surprisingly soft voice.
"Okay. You just get
yourself back on this boat in one piece, or there isn't enough water in the
world to keep me from swimming back to your side."
She began pulling up leather bumpers that protected the side of the boat
from colliding with the dock.
"That
feeling is mutual." Xena made
the 'I love you' sign with one hand behind her back, and doffed her cloak,
balling it up and tossing it onto the ship's deck.
She drew her sword. "Pony,
Morrigan, help me out as long as you can, but when the boat is ready to turn and
head out to sea, get yourselves aboard. I'll
hold them off until the last possible minute and then I'll join you."
"Right."
The weapons master held the quarterstaff horizontal to the ground,
prepared to parry with her first assailant.
The
bone-chilling wind cut through Xena like a knife, mingling with the boiling
blood that rushed to the surface, a sensation she welcomed with open arms.
It was the part of her that entered a fight with confidence, reveling in
the battle for its own sake. She
let out a wild yell and launched upward, flipping over twice and landing solidly
on the dock. With one swift motion, she disarmed the first man that approached
her, sending his sword skittering across the weathered boards and into the
water. A forceful kick to the gut
sent the man himself tumbling in after it.
She
laughed, allowing the joy of the fight to take over.
Another soldier came after her, his sword swinging out dangerously close
to her leather-clad thigh. She
hopped up, jumping over the blade, and came down on top of it, wrenching it from
his surprised hands. Fiery blue
eyes snapped, and she head-butted the man, watching him stumble backward and
take out three of his companions.
Bring
it on.
As
she parried her way through two more opponents, she was aware on a secondary
level of the ship moving behind her, and the two stalwart companions that fought
on either side of her. "Pony!"
the warrior sent another sword to Poseidon.
"Get on the boat! You
too, Morrigan."
Eponin
grunted with dissatisfaction, swinging her staff at knee level, sweeping the
innkeeper himself off his feet. She
laughed heartily as he landed with a thud on his rear end, cursing as he rolled
and tried to stand up. Take
that, lard-ass. She took off at
a run, reaching the end of the dock, planting her staff firmly at the end and
using it as a pole-vault. She
sailed across several feet of water, tucking and rolling when she hit the ship's
deck, feeling a strong hand haul her up. "Thanks."
She looked up into the slayer's eyes.
"No
problem." They turned to face
the ongoing battle on the dock. "Shouldn't
they be trying to get on board by now?"
"Yeah."
The weapons master scratched behind her ear. "They should."
On
the dock, the warrior found herself back to back with the druid.
"Morrigan, you need to go now."
"Same
would be true fer you, Xena." The
druid deftly punched a soldier right between the eyes, watching him drop to the
dock, out cold.
"I
can take care of myself," the warrior hissed through gritted teeth,
slamming her elbow into a man's jaw, hearing the bone crack, along with his
resulting scream.
"So
can I." Morrigan pushed off
the warrior's back, spinning and kicking another soldier in the kneecap, knowing
she had shattered it as his face contorted in agony.
Four
men suddenly surrounded Xena. Shoving
down a moment's guilt, she sunk her sword to into a soft belly, withdrawing it
and just as quickly swinging it to the side, taking off another man's hand, his
own sword inches from her neck. Blood
spurted across the dock, spraying her black leather pants and vest.
Her nostrils flared, drawing in the coppery scent that only served to
draw spare reserves of energy from deep within her gut.
With
two of her opponents down, she faced the third, who sprung toward her with a
battle-axe. She grabbed the wooden handle and shoved hard, slamming the
axe hilt into the man's chest. She
jerked it from his hands and hefted it over her head, intent on splitting his
skull, when her nape hairs prickled and she felt a fire slicing at the back of
her neck. She spun around, kicking
the axe wielder aside in the process, only to watch her fourth assailant fall to
the ground, blood gushing from a wound to the back of his shoulder, his hand
curled around a knife that was also covered in blood.
The druid was standing directly behind him, calmly wiping her dagger on
her pants leg.
"Thanks."
Xena felt the blood trickling down her neck and reached behind her back.
She could feel the wet sticky warmth and a sizeable gash where the man
had gotten to her. "I think
it's time to get out of here, don't you?"
"I
couldna agree more." Morrigan
tucked her dagger into its sheath. "'Cept
fer trouble standing there at the end o' the pier."
The
warrior turned where the ship was headed out to sea, and saw the black bearded
man standing between them and the boat, his arms crossed triumphantly.
"So what are you going to do, warrior?" he shouted at her. "Head into town? You're
a wanted woman there. Swim out to
sea?" He laughed loudly.
"The water's ice cold and the boat's already too far for you to
escape hypothermia before you get there."
Xena
merely grinned, an evil twist of her lips that the man could see, even from
where he stood. She thought of her
partner. "I'd ride through the
gates of Tartarus and back to get to that boat.
You think a little cold water is going to stop me?"
She turned to Morrigan. "I
can make it, can you?"
"Yer
not the only one with many skills, Xena."
The druid clenched and unclenched her fists in preparation.
"You get there yer way, and I'll get there mine."
"That's
what I figured." Xena eyed the
dock area, her eyes landing on the crow's nest of a tall ship.
"See you on deck."
"Aye."
They clasped forearms, and Morrigan took off in a blur, running toward
the end of the dock, passing the startled man as she kept going, her feet
skimming the surface of the water. She
laughed, reaching the boat and grasping a trailing rope, grabbing it and
hoisting herself onto the deck, much to the astonishment of Gabrielle, Eponin,
Kallerine, and the captain. She
removed a pair of damp boots and stood, facing back toward the dock.
"You
. . . you . . . " The weapons
master trailed off. "Great
Artemis, how did you do that?" Eponin
recalled the druid clearing the snow for them in a similar fashion, but had no
idea that Morrigan could literally run on water.
"Gift
o' ma heritage." The druid
frowned. "But what about Xena?"
"She'll
get here." Gabrielle moved to the railing with quiet confidence.
Xena
eyed the bearded man and gauged her distance to the crow's nest.
She struggled with herself. Take
him out or not? Her gaze
fell on the ship, which was still moving out to sea.
Not. She ran toward
him, planting her hands into the deck and executing a series of back flips,
flying up and over his head and grasping the rim of the crow's nest.
She took a firmer grip on the nest with one hand, reaching out and
grabbing hold of the tall wooden pole that ran down the middle of it.
She curled both hands around it and began swinging around in swift
circles. With a wild yell, she let
go, launching herself out into clear space.
From
the deck the bard watched, her heart clenching in her chest.
Come on, Xena.
Xena
felt a surge of fear and realized it was coming from her partner.
Don't worry, love, I'm almost there.
She arched her back and flung herself even higher, as she continued to
tumble end over end through the air, the churning waves lapping far below her.
With a blur, she was grabbing onto a line that ran from the top of the
center mast of the ship. She rappelled downward with ease, landing lightly on the
deck. And reflexively reached out,
grabbing Gabrielle as the bard ran to her, throwing herself into the warrior's
arms.
"Shhhhh."
She stroked the blonde head, feeling the compact body trembling against
her. "It's okay, I made
it."
"I
knew you could do it." Teary
green eyes peered up at her. They
held on tightly, and the rest of the world faded away, as Gabrielle remembered
the first time the warrior had made an impossible leap onto a ship.
"I think you did more flips this time."
The bard found her sense of humor. "This'll
be an even better story than the first one."
Oh
gods.
Xena closed her eyes. "It
was no big deal, sweetheart. Just a
little jump is all."
"That
was no little jump." The bard
held her at arms' length, studying her with a critical eye.
"You're covered in blood."
She watched Xena flinch and her eyes narrowed.
"Xena." She moved
closer. "Spill it.
Where are you hurt?"
"I've
got a little cut at the base of my neck."
The warrior could still feel warm blood running down her spine between
her shoulder blades, beneath her leather vest.
"It's nothing . . ." She
groaned as Gabrielle was at her back in an instant.
". . . really."
"Xena!"
The bard tugged at her, drawing her toward the first mate's cabin.
"Come on. You're going to need some stitches. And I need to get you out of those filthy leathers."
"Hold
on." The warrior turned to
face the others. "Everybody
okay here?"
"Fine."
The weapons master answered for all of them. They had all heard Gabrielle's story of Xena's leap onto
Cecrops' boat, and all had pictured it in their minds, but seeing the warrior
actually execute the move brought home anew the knowledge that their friend
could do impossible things, often with seeming ease.
"Xena . . ." Eponin
walked up to her, out of hearing of the others. "How did you . . .? What I mean is . . ."
She licked her lips, trying to give voice to her thoughts.
"Morrigan is a demi-god, right?"
"Right,"
the low voice answered evenly, offering no further information or encouragement.
"But
you . . ." Brown eyes met blue. Something
passed between them, and the weapons master nodded slightly.
She slapped the warrior lightly on the arm.
"Glad you made it here safely."
"Thanks."
Her eyes lifted, up and over Eponin's shoulder.
"Ronan, things under control here if I go to my berth for a
while?"
"Go
on, Xena." The captain grasped the large wheel. "It's a few candle marks earlier than we planned on
shoving off, but it only means we get to Eire a few candle marks sooner.
Go get yerself cleaned up. I'll
give the rest o' yer mates some basic sailing instruction before we reach open
water."
"Good
enough." Xena allowed herself to be led to their cabin.
As
soon as they entered it and closed the door, Gabrielle found herself pressed
against the door, as a primal growl escaped from the warrior's lips, right
before they claimed her mouth in a series of fierce kisses.
"Xena . . ." The
bard gently placed her palms against a blood-spattered chest.
"You're hurt."
"Mmmm.
Kiss it and make it better." She
nuzzled a warm neck and nipped at salty skin, while her hands deftly removed the
bard's cloak.
Gabrielle
could feel the energy rolling off her partner in waves, recognizing a
full-fledged case of battle lust. She
debated, the musky sweaty scent of her lover's body wafting up to her and
sending her own senses careening inside. "Honey."
She allowed her voice to drop to a low soothing tone.
"You have no idea how much I want you right now . . ."
"Oh,
I beg to differ." Warm lips
nibbled at the bard's jaw line. "I
think I have a pretty good idea." She
chuckled at the flush on her partner's cheeks.
"Okay,
so you do." Nimble fingers worked at the black vest, pushing it off
Xena's shoulders. "But
wouldn't it be better if we take a quick bath, get all nice and clean first?
Not to mention it would be a whole lot better if I stitch up that cut
before you bleed to death."
"Dunno."
The warrior was intent on removing the soft deerskin leathers that were
keeping her from her goal. "What
a way to go." The bard's
fringed top came off, and cool air washed over her bare upper body, sending
goose bumps dancing across her fair skin.
"Xena
. . ." Gabrielle pleaded
softly, her defenses rapidly deteriorating as she felt warm hands begin to map
her torso. "Please."
The
warrior released a heavy breath and pulled back, her knuckles trailing against
her partner's soft face. "Okay." She
leaned in, kissing the bard lightly on the lips. "Let's get busy heating up some water, so we can get
that bath out of the way."
"Good
girl." The bard wrapped the
solid body in a warm hug, whispering quietly in Xena's ear.
"You'll get your reward later, I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A
much cleaner warrior lay face down on the bed, her shoulder muscles twitching
slightly as Gabrielle carefully stitched up the gash that ran from the base of
her neck at a diagonal toward her right shoulder blade.
The tiny pricks of the needle were annoying, but nothing she wasn't used
to after ten years as a warlord and over four more years on the road with her
partner. Her eyes were closed, taking in the fresh lavender scent of
the soap they had used to bathe, along with the cold clean salty air that wafted
into the cabin from outside.
"Almost
done." The bard tied off a stitch and prepared to make the next one.
"Just a couple more."
"Ummpph."
Xena shifted under the quilt that covered her up to her armpits.
"How's the stomach?"
"So
far, so good." Gabrielle realized that she hadn't used the pressure points
at all, and hadn't really needed to. Weird.
She thought about that. Or
maybe not.
"I
guess on the way to Egypt the water was a lot rougher."
Blue eyes blinked open, studying the nubby bedding at very close range. "Or maybe after all the time you've spent on boats,
you're finally getting your sea legs."
"Maybe."
The bard's voice was quiet.
Too
quiet. "You okay?"
Xena rolled over a fraction.
"Be
still." A firm hand pushed her
back into place. "I'm fine.
Just thinking."
The
long body settled back into place. She
doesn't sound fine. "You
sure your stomach is okay?"
"Yes."
Gabrielle began sewing the last stitch.
"I was just thinking about Ulysses."
Oh.
The King of Ithaca hadn't crossed her mind in a very long time.
"Anything in particular, or just in general?"
"I
was thinking about my nausea that time."
Busy fingers tied off the final knot, and the bard set the needle and
gutting aside. She lifted a small
pouch of powdered antiseptic herbs and began untying the leather binding that
held it closed.
"That
was your first boat trip, huh?" Strong
shoulders relaxed, no longer tensed for the needle stabs.
"Yeah."
The sharp odor of the herbs assaulted Gabrielle's nose as she opened the
bag, and she turned her head aside to sneeze.
"But my stomach started hurting before we ever got on the
boat."
Xena
grew very still. Her throat muscles
worked, as she swallowed a couple of times.
"You . . . didn't tell me that.
Maybe something you ate?"
"I
don't think so." The bard carefully sifted herbs through her fingers,
sprinkling them liberally over the stitched wound.
"I got on that boat fully expecting to lose you."
The
warrior closed her eyes. Was I going to leave her behind? She felt Gabrielle stir, closing up the pouch.
She rolled over onto her back, looking up at her partner's profile, as
the bard leaned over to place the herbs back into her healer's kit, which was
resting on the floor. No.
"You were never going to lose me."
"But
you said you loved him." Gabrielle
pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and turned to face her.
"I
didn't say that." Xena reached out, grasping the bard's hand and pulling it
over to rest flat against the quilt covering her stomach.
"You
did too." Why do I still feel jealous, after all this time? the
bard berated herself, ashamed of emotions that were almost as fresh as the day
she first felt them.
"No,
I said I wouldn't have felt the way I did about Ulysses if you hadn't taught me
how to love." The warrior
stroked the back of her lover's hand with her thumb, trying to form her words.
"Same
thing." Gabrielle searched the
wide-open blue orbs. "Isn't it?"
"No."
Xena squeezed her hand. "I
never got to finish. Ulysses
interrupted us when he spotted land. Things
got complicated after that, and then I lost the courage to explain."
"Did
I miss something that day?" The
bard smiled, as she felt her hand lifted, followed by soft lips feather-light
against her knuckles.
"I
think we both did." The
warrior scooted closer, until her shoulder was pressed against Gabrielle's
thigh. "I said that you taught me how to love.
I cared about Ulysses. I
loved you, Gabrielle. Even way back
then. When you asked me if I said
'love' and I admitted that I did, I hoped so badly that you would see that I
meant you and not him."
Gabrielle
carefully replayed the scene in her mind, remembering the overwhelming sense of
loss she had felt at the time. Her
chest felt tight all over again, exactly as it did on the deck of Ulysses' ship.
"I thought you meant you loved Ulysses."
A
bittersweet sadness was reflected in the warrior's eyes.
"That was the part I was about to try to explain, when we got
interrupted. Remember when you told me to follow my heart?"
"Yeah."
The smaller hand moved higher, resting over the heart in question.
"What
did I tell you?"
"That
I was part of your heart?" Gods.
I missed a lot that day.
"Yeah.
Just a second . . ." Xena
sat up, propping some pillows against her back and tugging at her partner's
hand, until the bard was tucked comfortably against her side. She pulled the covers up over both of them.
"Gods, I was so afraid to tell you how I felt, and I kept saying
things that I hoped you would decipher, I guess.
I didn't want to go with Ulysses, and I didn't want you to want me
to."
"I
didn't want you to. I was just trying to be unselfish."
Especially after Perdicus. Gabrielle
tilted her head up, looking at her partner's strong jaw line.
"I had to fight myself, Xena, because every fiber of my body wanted
to drop to my knees and beg you to stay with me."
"No
need." She kissed the blonde
head. "My head told me that
Ulysses would have been a good choice. My
heart . . . it already belonged to you."
"And
mine to you." Gabrielle reached up, cupping a bronzed cheek and drawing
Xena down. She allowed herself to
drown in the blue eyes for a long moment, before she gave in to her cravings,
making solid contact with her partner's lips, savoring the warmth of their
connected bodies. "We were
just plain silly, huh?"
"Mmm-hmmm."
The warrior untucked the towel that was wrapped around the bard's body.
Hungry eyes roamed over bare skin as it was revealed to her, and she
ducked her head, planting a trail of kisses across the curves of Gabrielle's
breasts. Her earlier fire was
banked, the battle lust tempered by the relaxing bath and the pillow talk,
replaced by stronger feelings of love, pure and simple.
"We're still silly." She
tickled her partner's ribs, smiling when the bard giggled.
"Oh."
Gabrielle gasped, as the tickles turned to sensual strokes, which worked
their way slowly down her body, teasing her, and drawing powerful sensations
from her, that demanded more of the knowing touches. She was dimly aware of being lowered down on the soft
mattress, and cool air dancing across her skin, before Xena covered her
completely, the solid warm body brushing against her naked skin as they moved
together, establishing a gentle constant rhythm.
The
warrior wrapped one arm beneath her lover, pulling Gabrielle's body up, drawing
her closer, feeling the bard responding to her in a way that still made her
heart turn over at the wonder of the strong emotions that ran between them.
God's. It's like we're
sharing the same skin. "You're
the best part of me." Her lips
nibbled at the sensitive spot next to her partner's ear.
She felt Gabrielle tense, arching against her, and then the flutter of
the bard's stomach muscles, as she found release.
She located the bard's lips, swallowing her cries with deep soulful
kisses.
A
while later, she lay on her back, Gabrielle plastered against her, her arms
circling the completely relaxed body. She
continually rubbed the bard's back in warm lazy circles, occasionally brushing
her lips against a tousled blonde head. "I
think I heard the dinner bell."
"They
can bite me." Gabrielle nuzzled her partner's neck, greedily inhaling the
musky earthen scent of moist warm skin.
"Not
if they want to live." The
warrior gently patted a bare behind. Her
hand planted firmly against the toned backside, pushing the bard up.
Xena grinned and nipped at an exposed collarbone.
"I'm the only one that gets that pleasure, I hope."
"Got
that right." The bard shifted, crawling on top of her.
She straddled Xena's hips, settling comfortably across them, her hands
reaching out and stroking warm inviting skin.
She smiled, as the warrior's eyes fluttered halfway closed in response.
"I can think of a couple of things I'd like to nibble on,
myself."
"Oh?"
A sexy eyebrow arched in question. "Do
tell."
"I
think I'd rather show you." A
gentle laughed bubbled up, as Gabrielle leaned over, her lips finding highly
sensitized spots with unerring accuracy.
They
were late for dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Most
of the ship's passengers were gathered around a wide half-barrel of burning wood
that was carefully latched to the top deck of the boat, well out of the way of
any sails or lines. The barrel was carefully filled with sand, all the way up to
the top, with a pit dug out in the middle for the fire. Several buckets of water sat nearby, just in case.
The fire provided a welcome heat, and a chance for the group to share
stories, jokes, and a large flask of warm spiced wine.
Even a quietly-observing Johanna had joined them, although the girl
appeared shell-shocked at the abrupt shift in her circumstances.
The seas were mercifully calm, although Ronan grumbled occasionally from
behind the wheel. Calm seas meant
little wind to draw the ship across the water.
Despite
the lack of high waves, Amarice was still below deck, fighting a combination of
a nasty head cold and gut-shredding seasickness.
The only other passenger who was away from the fire was Morrigan, who was
leaning against the railing at the very front of the boat, enjoying the light
cold spray that blew in her face as the boat skimmed the water's surface.
Xena was perched behind Gabrielle, or more accurately, around Gabrielle,
her legs and arms providing a warm nest the bard had settled into after they
shared a late dinner. The
bard had told a few short stories, but seemed mostly content to lean back and
take in some tales Kallerine had launched into, sharing her experiences as a
bacchae-slayer.
The
warrior's eyes occasionally flicked from the fire and the small group of
Amazons, to the loan figure at the front of the boat.
Grudgingly, her respect for the druid had grown exponentially since they
first met, and she found herself wondering what might lie ahead for them, once
they reached Eire. Something
niggled at her, and she quietly began untangling herself from Gabrielle.
"You mind if I go talk to Morrigan for a bit?"
Her lips brushed against the bard's ear.
"No."
Gabrielle patted a leather-clad thigh.
"Just means more wine for me."
"Careful."
The lips moved to the back of her neck, stealing a quick nibble before
the warrior stood. "Stuff is
sweet and it goes down smooth. It
has the tendency to sneak up on you and bite you in the butt."
"I’ll
keep that in mind." Her body
was still pleasantly sated from their earlier activities, and from the warrior's
behavior, the almost imperceptible touches and nuzzles they had shared beside
the fire, she suspected Xena felt the same way.
Gabrielle peered up at her, one eye offering a ghost of a wink.
Xena
repaid her with a dazzling smile. "Save
my place." She turned,
striding gracefully across the slightly-pitching deck, her footing sure and
steady, with no need of the railing for balance.
She slid into the spot next to Morrigan, giving the druid a slight nod in
greeting.
"Nice
evenin'." Morrigan glanced sideways.
The
warrior looked up at an inky black sky that was dusted with hundreds of
sparkling stars. She lazily tracked
several star patterns, familiar as old friends, which she had often used to
guide her own boat in her early days as a warlord pirate.
"That it is."
"I
don't mean ta be unfriendly." The
druid gestured toward the laughing group behind them.
"I felt the need ta be alone for a wee bit.
I miss ma daughter somethin' fierce."
"That's
gotta be tough." The warrior's
throat worked in a painful swallow, her eyes gazing out toward where the sea met
the sky.
Morrigan
mentally slapped herself, remembering that Xena said she had given her son away.
"Sorry, Xena. Do ya . .
. ever get to see 'im?"
"No."
The warrior needed no explanation of whom the druid referred to.
"He died a few years ago."
Well,
Morrigan, remove one boot from yer mouth and promptly shove t'other in its place.
She closed her eyes. "Oh." Her voice was very soft.
I didna' know."
"S'okay."
Xena turned partially, facing the druid and studying her with a hesitant
eye. "Morrigan . . . this mask
we're trying to find. You said it
was cursed if a god gains control of it. What
about mortals? Do they have
anything to gain by possession of it? I
was just thinking about that, and wondering if we're looking in the wrong place
for our thief."
"The
only thing a mortal might possibly gain would be the favor of a god they might
steal the mask for. Or maybe a handful of dinars." Morrigan's eyes grew thoughtful.
"But I pity the mortal who takes the mask."
"Why's
that?" Xena's hair whipped
back, as the breeze grew stronger.
"Any
mortal who is in love with someone, if they hold the mask, they will feel
compelled to sacrifice their lover to the druids.
It's another part of the curse of Kernunnos."
She studied the angular profile. "Xena
. . . I need yer help to find the mask . . . but when we find it, I should be
the only one to actually touch it. I
canna risk you and Gabrielle to the evil of Kernunnos."
The
warrior snorted. "Between the
two of us, Gabrielle and I have survived two crucifixions each, a dive into a
lava pit, and the fires of Tartarus itself.
Do you honestly think I'd let a mask or the curse of some petty god come
between us?"
"Xena
. . ." Morrigan faced her
fully, fists planted firmly on her hips. "The
curse will fall equally on any mortal who possesses the mask, even those of
exceptionally strong will. Even
you."
"I
got a secret." The warrior smiled bitterly.
"I ain't all mortal." Thanks,
Daddy. She spared the briefest
of thoughts for the god of war. "No
one on this boat, except for Gabrielle, knows that. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it quiet."
So.
That answers that.
Xena's 'dinar a dozen' comment hadn't fallen on deaf ears.
"I thought as much. Yer
secret's safe with me." Morrigan
leaned back against the railing, facing away from the troubled figure next to
her. "Still . . . I do not
know what the mask might do to a demigod. I
know I'm a demigod, but being a druid I think protects me from the curse.
Would be a wee bit strange fer me ta want ta sacrifice someone to
maself."
"If
you did . . . want to . . . who would it be?"
Gotcha. The warrior
watched the druid's blue eyes grow wide, and then watched Morrigan's shoulders
slump, her red head bowed down over the railing.
"I
think ya know the answer ta that question."
The pale eyes glowed with unshed tears.
"Does
he know you still feel this strongly about him?"
Xena stepped cautiously onto the outskirts of a sensitive chat, territory
that became increasingly easy with Gabrielle, but was still tenuous at best with
anyone else, particularly a relative stranger.
"No."
Morrigan's eyes snapped. "And
I plan fer it ta stay that way. There's no need ta stir up somethin' that canna be."
Oh.
Very touchy subject.
The warrior mentally retreated, storing the information away to ponder
later. "I see." She shifted, moonlight refracting off her bare head in
blue-white highlights. "Listen
. . . I appreciate your concern . . . about me and the mask. While I'd never let anything come between me and Gabrielle,
at the same time, there are some things I'm not willing to risk."
Not anymore.
Her
heart lurched, remembering a decision to leave the bard behind, while she tore
Hades-bent-for-leather across Roman territory, intent on one purpose.
Killing Caesar. Never
thinking that anything would happen to her beloved soulmate.
Not with Amarice to protect her. Not
with the peaceful Eli. Not at home
in Greece. No.
Caesar was the enemy, and he was far away from Gabrielle.
It never occurred to her that the now-slain emperor's hand would reach
out, far beyond the Roman border, snatching up the one person that mattered, and
sending them both on a one-way trip to ultimate pain and agony.
All because of her hatred for Caesar.
And then she remembered another long journey, her intent to kill Caesar
just as strong. She shuddered.
"This
trip . . ." Xena struggled for words.
"It's taking us . . . Gabrielle and I . . . very close to a place
that was very hard for us."
"She
mentioned that." The druid
felt, rather than saw it, as the warrior paused, drawing a deep breath into her
lungs in an attempt to drive away the darkness in her soul.
"Although she didna tell me much about it.
Only that it involved Dahak."
The
tall figure relaxed a little. "Yes.
It did. I really wanted her
to stay with the Amazons this time, but I promised her a while back that I'd
never leave her behind again, unless it was by her choice."
"Xena
. . ." A tiny smile quirked at
the druid's lips. "With a promise like that, ya do realize that yer never
going to travel anywhere alone, ever again, dontcha?"
Morrigan had observed enough to know that Xena's devotion and tenacity
was matched only by that of her beloved soulmate.
"Yeah."
The warrior acknowledged the truth with a smile of her own.
"I'm more lucky than I have any right to be."
She twitched her cloak into place. "Once
we find the mask, we can re-group on how best to retrieve it. Deal?"
"Deal."
Morrigan's eyes strayed toward the fire circle, to be met by green ones
that peered back with great concern. "I
think yer love is missin' yer presence, Xena."
A
rare blush crept up the warrior's bronzed cheeks, visible even in the low
lighting.
"Go
on with ya." The druid gave her a playful shove. "I'll be over there shortly. I just need ta sing a wee lullaby to Brigid first.
I promised her before I left that I'd sing to her every night, no matter
where I might be."
The
warrior's entire body heaved in a long sigh.
"Okay." She stepped carefully across the deck, which was rocking
quite a bit more than when she left the fire circle.
Reaching the group, she silently slipped in behind her partner, resuming
their original position, her arms and legs wrapped protectively around the bard.
"Miss me?"
"Yeah."
Gabrielle leaned back, her hands resting lightly against the ones that
were pressed against her stomach. Kallerine
had finished yet another bacchae-slaying story, and Eponin had jumped in
afterward, sharing the story of her deceased sister Lysia, a former Amazon
commander who was favored by Zeus himself. As the weapons master's words carried across the circle, the
warrior's sharp ears picked up a high soft sound, as the druid's song drifted by
on the wind. She recognized the
tune and joined in, her lips once again close to Gabrielle's ear, her voice so
low that only the bard heard the whispering song:
Someday
when I'm awf'ly low
When
the world is cold
I
will feel a glow just thinking of you
And
the way you look tonight.
Oh
but you're lovely
With
your smile so warm
And
your cheek so soft
There
is nothing for me but to love you
Just
the way you look tonight
With
each word my tenderness grows
Tearing
my fear apart.
And
that laugh that wrinkles your nose
Touches
my foolish heart.
Lovely,
never, never change
Keep
that breathless charm
Won't
you please arrange it 'cause I love you
Just
the way you look tonight.*
Her
lips brushed softly against the bard's head, as the song ended.
"That
. . ." Gabrielle turned, her
face glowing in the warm firelight. "That
was. . ." Her voice
caught, and a single tear trickled down her cheek.
"Thank you."
The
warrior reached out, catching it with her fingertip.
"I love you." She mouthed the words.
"Hey."
Eponin interrupted them. "My
story-telling that bad?" She
scowled at her queen's tears, unaware of their source.
"Your majesty . . ." She
enunciated the words, knowing that only Gabrielle would catch her sarcasm.
"I realize you're the only true bard among us . . ."
"No."
The bard sniffed and smiled. "The
story is good. Really.
I just got a little sentimental for a minute there.
Sorry."
"Uh-huh."
The weapons master looked from warrior to bard, her face etched with
skepticism. She detected the
faintest hint of an impish smile on Xena's lips, along with the gentle flush
that warmed Gabrielle's cheeks.
The
stories went on long into the night, and much later, the warrior roused a
sleeping Gabrielle, supporting her as they finally retired to their cabin.
Dawn found them in contented slumber, wrapped in each other's arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gabrielle
sat in the crow's nest, taking her turn at watch.
Two long weeks had passed, and the boat-weary passengers were anxious to
reach Eire, looking forward to the prospect of dry land and getting off the
ever-rolling ship. A stiff icy wind
blew at her back, and she pulled her cloak up around her shoulders, grateful for
her deerskin leathers and warm lined boots.
While she was cold, two pairs of long woolen under things kept her from
being miserable, and facing away from the wind spared her the worst of the
constant pummel. At least she could
see without having to squint.
When
they first set up the duty roster, Xena had tried to steer Gabrielle away from
the crow's nest, but the bard had insisted that she should take her turn just
like everyone else. The warrior had quietly argued about that, unreasonably so in
the bard's eyes, until she remembered a near-fall from the same crow's nest, on
their way to Alexandria. She pulled
the warrior aside and quietly assured her that she would be extra careful.
It took some convincing, but Xena finally gave in, privately realizing
that she was being her usual over-protective self when it came to Gabrielle.
Once
duties were assigned, the group fell into a comfortable routine that involved
meal preparation, general upkeep of the ship, keeping watch, and helping with
the sails. The warrior and Ronan
took turns at the wheel, Ronan by night and Xena by day.
Kallerine had taken a keen interest in the workings of the ship, and had
gradually learned enough to occasionally relieve the two more seasoned sailors
if they were temporarily needed elsewhere.
Raella
and Amarice remained below for most of the voyage.
Just as the warrior feared, their colds had settled into their chests and
developed into full-blown cases of consumption.
Her supply of medicinal herbs was running low, and she doled out doses as
sparingly as she could, and still provide effective treatment.
Both Johanna and Eponin followed her from patient to patient, observing
her, and both women learned enough to help with administering herbs during the
times that the warrior was occupied with other activities.
On
this morning, she had chosen to tend to them herself, and the bard sensed,
rather than heard, as the warrior emerged from below deck, her steps almost
inaudible, a stealthy manner of moving that was second nature.
Gabrielle turned and looked down, smiling and shaking her head.
Xena's hood was hanging down her back, and Gabrielle briefly wondered why
Cyrene had even bothered to sew a hood onto the cloak.
"Hey," she called out.
Blue
eyes lifted, tracking toward her, sparkling in the early-morning sunlight.
"Hey yourself." The
warrior loped over to the nest support pole, lazily grabbing hold of the ladder
rungs and climbing up to join her partner.
"Any sign of land?" She
dropped down into the nest.
"No."
Gabrielle burrowed against her. "Mmmmm.
You're nice and warm."
"Here."
Xena opened up her cloak and invited the bard to crawl closer.
She settled her arm and the thick heavy wool around Gabrielle's
shoulders. "Want me to relieve
you for a while? Kallerine is doing fine at the wheel."
"No."
The bard reveled in her personal warrior-sized heater.
"Just stay here and keep me company."
"I
can do that." She rested her cheek against the blonde head, or more
accurately, the soft brushed-wool hood that covered it.
"We should reach Eire by nightfall, if Ronan and I have calculated
correctly."
"I
can't wait to take a bath in fresh water," Gabrielle mused.
"Not to mention eat something besides dried venison and fish." She paused, idly tracing the leather stitching on the sides
of the warrior's legs. "Other
than that, though, I've actually enjoyed the trip."
Xena
considered that and smiled. "Yeah.
It's been kind of nice, hasn't it?"
"Uh-huh.
It's been a nice break from running the Amazons.
And I haven't been sick very much. I've
only needed the pressure points a couple of times."
She leaned into the warrior, wrapping one arm around Xena's middle. "I've really enjoyed the time with you."
"That's
the best bit," Xena whole-heartedly agreed.
"I feel bad for Pony and Kallerine.
They've both been worried about Raella and Amarice.
That's gonna throw a hitch in our plans, I'm afraid."
"Yeah."
Gabrielle's brows furrowed. "Not
a good idea to leave two sick Amazons to guard Bridgid, huh?"
"Nope."
Xena studied the horizon, her nostrils flaring.
If she concentrated, she could smell traces of soil and rock on the wind.
Soon. "I'm gonna
ask Pony to stay with Bridgid, and take Kallerine along with us."
"Let's
see . . . Amarice, Raella, Johanna, and Bridgid.
Xena, that's going to be the babysitting job from Tartarus."
The bard squeezed her partner and looked up at thoughtful blue eyes.
"She's not going to like that."
"No,
she's not. I don't know what's
gotten into her, but I'd rather try to ride a Minotaur than deal with her, the
way she's been." Xena snorted. Eponin had become a good friend over the years, but her
attitude was getting on the warrior's last nerve.
"You have any idea what's going on?"
"I've
tried to talk to her, but she just brushes me off."
Gabrielle had watched the weapons master, silently observing and mentally
cataloging the various incidents that seemed to set her off.
"Although I have a pretty good idea."
"Clue
me in, please." Xena shifted,
giving the bard her full attention.
"I
think she's suffering from a case of warrior princess envy."
Gabrielle watched her partner's mouth open to protest, and she cut her
off. "Think about it, honey.
Before we moved to the village, Pony was it. The best fighter, the best tracker, the one they all looked
to in times of crisis. She's young
enough to be at the peak of her fighting abilities, but old enough to have the
respect of the elders. Even Chilapa
depended on her. Pony's been
around. Seen a lot.
You heard her stories about her sister Lysia and Queen Hippolyta.
She was a girl during that era, saw all of Melosa's era, and outlived
Ephiny's reign as regent. It's gotta hurt to go from being the top dog to being second
best at everything."
"Third."
The warrior gently corrected her, observing quiet startlement in the
bard's eyes. "They look to you
now, too, my bard. And you can whip
Pony in quarterstaff and sais."
"Xena!
That's not true . . ." She
stopped, remembering more than a few decisive victories over the weapons master
in the practice ring. "Gods.
You're right." Her head
dropped and she looked down at the woven slats of the crow's nest base.
"What are we going to do?"
"She
just needs to get over herself," Xena reasoned.
"It's
not always that easy." The
bard looked up, involuntarily tracing dark eyebrows with her fingertips, before
arranging the unruly locks framing the warrior's face.
"It took me a long time."
"You?"
Xena was incredulous. "You
never . . ." She paused,
seeing the truth in the green depths. "Did
you?"
"Come
on, Xena. Remember when I bought
this?" She gingerly tugged the
breast dagger from beneath the black vest. "Why do you think I bought it?"
"You
wanted a weapon." The warrior
shuddered, remembering her journey through Morpheus' dreamscape, and her fight
with her own dark side, all the while, her heart pounding with the fear that she
wouldn't reach her new friend in time. A
friend that even then, had come to mean much more than she was willing to admit
at the time.
"Yes."
Gabrielle twirled the dagger in her hand.
"I wanted a weapon." She
pointed it at her partner. "Because
you had one. And I wanted to be
just like you."
"Gimme
that." In agitation, Xena
snatched the knife from her partner and tucked it back where it belonged.
"Sorry." She
grinned sheepishly. "So how
did you get over your . . . envy?" The
word sounded strange to her ears. And
why in the name of the gods would anyone want to be like me, especially a gentle
soul like Gabrielle?
"I
can't say exactly when." The
bard plucked at the thongs that held her sais against the outsides of her boots.
"Partly, it helped when I became an Amazon princess and learned to
use my staff, because then I was able to help defend myself, so I felt more
independent." She smiled
shyly. "And part of it was when I realized that you valued my
non-warrior gifts. My stories and
my cooking ability and my negotiating skills."
Xena
flinched. How long did it take
me to express any of that to her? She
had no idea just how often I was envious of her.
Oh, my bard, I valued those skills because I wanted so much to be like
you. "Why did that
help?"
"You
helped me see that it was okay to be myself."
She stroked a high cheekbone. "You have no idea what a gift you gave
me, Xena."
"I
. . . I did?" Incredulous blue
eyes blinked.
"Yes,
you did." She smiled.
"Being myself wasn't such a good thing back in Potadeia.
I was expected to be a good cook. Made
me better marriage material. Cooking
wasn't an unusual skill. As for
story-telling, and negotiating . . ."
She broke off, looking down and shaking her head sadly.
"Those talents were frowned upon in girls.
I was supposed to be meek. And
quiet." She looked up in mild amusement. "Yeah. Imagine
that. Me. Trying to be quiet."
The
warrior pictured what her partner must have been like as a child.
Bet she was curious about everything.
And always getting into trouble. Not
so different from how she is now. She
smiled briefly, before she suppressed a surge of anger.
How could anyone not value the things that at their very core, make
their child who they are?
"Gabrielle."
She tightened her hold in a reassuring hug.
"All those nights . . . when we were camped by the fire . . . it
would have been very lonely if not for your stories. That first time .
. . when you left to go to the academy . . . I barely slept the entire time you
were gone. I'd gotten used to your
voice. I missed talking with you
until we fell asleep. If you hadn't
come back . . ." She drew in a
deep breath, and felt soft lips against her cheek.
"Funny.
I remember going to sleep each night in that broom closet they assigned
me to at the academy, and I felt the same way.
I missed having you there beside me, arguing with me about star patterns,
and giving me grief about some of the questions I'd ask you."
She smiled. "I knew . .
. after a couple of nights, that no matter how the contest turned out, I
couldn't stay there. I told myself
I needed to go back to you because I would have better story fodder that way.
The truth is, I missed my best friend.
The adventures had nothing to do with it."
"Nothing
at all?" A pleased grin played
at the warrior's lips.
"Xena,
if you decided tomorrow that you wanted to settle in some backwoods village, and
join a knitting circle, and sell doilies for a living, I wouldn't love you any
less than I do right now." She gave the warrior a playful poke in the belly.
"As
if." The warrior laughed
heartily, but the honest sentiment in her lover's eyes warmed her to the bottom
of her heart. She really means
that. It filled her up to
almost overflowing. She doesn't
care what I do. She loves me just
for myself. It felt strange and
wonderful at the same time, an unconditional love she hadn't experienced since
she was a child, sitting on the edge of her bed each night while her mother
combed the snarls out of her hair. Maybe
someday . . . she stored the knowledge away for future reference.
The future. Yeah. "Thank
you. Means a lot.
I . . ." She stood up in mid-thought, her eyes squinting toward the
horizon.
"What
is it?" The bard carefully
rose up next to her, gripping a strong biceps for support.
"Look."
A long arm pointed toward a thin grayish fuzzy spot at the edge of the
water.
"Land?"
Gabrielle's eyes grew wide.
"Yep."
The warrior turned and yelled down toward the deck.
"Land, ho!"
"All
right!" Kallerine repeated the
cry from behind the wheel, into the hatch, listening as it reverberated through
the corridor below her.
Within
minutes, Eponin, Ronan, Johanna, and even Amarice and Raella scrambled topside.
All of them leaned over the railing, straining to see what could not yet
be seen from deck level. Morrigan
appeared last, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
She ran along the railing and frowned, finally moving to the base of the
crow's nest. She looked up
hopefully.
"I'm
going down to talk to Pony." Gabrielle patted the warrior on the arm.
"But I suspect you're about to have company."
She slowly picked her way down the pole, taking the curved rungs one at a
time, always making sure she was in solid contact with the pole.
"Here." She landed
safely on the deck. "Go on up.
There's room now."
"Thank
ya, Gabrielle." The druid
scaled the pole with swift grace, coming to rest in the basket next to Xena.
"See."
The warrior directed her toward the tiny patch of land.
The scent of soil was growing stronger, and her keen eyes detected small
black spots in the sky nearer to land, winter birds in flight.
"Eire."
Morrigan's voice was filled with quiet joy.
"Blessed be."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*"The
Way You Look Tonight," Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields