CHAPTER 16

Xena lay in bed in the early-morning darkness and listened to the first faint twittering of birds in the courtyard. She thought maybe she had finally dozed off for a while, but she wasn't certain. Going to bed at all had mostly been a waste of time. Tormented by regrets about Toris and worries about Amphipolis, her mind had been unable to rest.

And now she found herself thinking about Gabrielle, wondering what had happened during the town meeting to upset the younger woman. Because after it was all over, there had been that look about her -- Xena couldn't really describe it, but over the years, she had learned to recognize and pay heed to it. There had been no time to talk, though -- no chance to find out what was wrong. And now Xena lay there alone, unable to sleep, suspecting that Gabrielle was also spending a wakeful night.

With a sigh, the warrior sat up, swung her legs off the bed, and stood up. Hobbling over to the doorway, she started to reach for her crutch, but changed her mind and limped softly through the main room to the back door. There was no sound of sleep-breathing from either Lyceus' cot or Acantha's, which probably meant that any kind of peaceful slumber had eluded the two of them, as well.

The flagstones felt cold and smooth under the warrior's feet as she crossed to the back gate and stepped into the latrine. Groping in the darkness, she located her wooden stool and positioned it over the hole. Although the accident had made it difficult for her to squat, an old birthing stool with sawed-off legs had solved the problem nicely.

When she finished, Xena returned to the courtyard and ambled slowly along between the herb beds, savoring the pungent odors. Overhead, the stars were beginning to wink out as the sky took on the first gray hints of dawn.

An image of Cyrelle at the town meeting flashed into Xena's mind, and she shook her head a bit in wonder. There could be no doubt that the girl had the makings of a brilliant warrior. Her skill with weapons was phenomenal, and she seemed to know instinctively how to rouse enthusiasm and loyalty in her followers. But there was such a fine line between zeal for defending one's family, and all-out bloodlust. It was up to Xena to make certain her lieutenant never crossed that line. But, of course, there was the added problem of Ares. Just what was the god of war scheming? And what sort of manipulation was he likely to practice on Cyrelle?

Last night Xena had tried to find out by using the direct approach. "What did Ares say?" she asked the girl while they stood in the kitchen before the meeting. "Does he think you'll make a good lieutenant?"

"Yeah, he does," Cyrelle responded. "And he said I should obey orders and try to learn as much as I can from you."

"Ares told you that?" Xena asked in surprise.

The girl nodded. "He said you're the best warrior ever, but that someday I will be even better."

"I see. And what are his plans for you, once you're so much better than I am?"

"I don't know," Cyrelle said with a casual shrug. "We didn't really talk about any plans."

That was the end of the conversation, and now Xena sighed, wondering once again if Cyrelle had lied about there not being any plans.

Reaching the end of the courtyard, she turned and started back, ignoring the fact that her feet were cold, and that her leg was beginning to ache without the support of a crutch. Maybe she should just ask Ares point-blank what he was up to. He wouldn't tell her, of course, but he might let something slip to give her a clue. Would he still come when she called him? It had been a long time since she had tried.

She stopped walking and glanced around, as if she might see the god of war lurking in the darkness that surrounded her. "Ares," she said in a low voice, "I need to talk to you."

For several long moments, nothing happened, and then, all at once, he materialized out of the shadows a few paces in front of her.

"Well, well, well," he said. "This is just like old times, isn't it?"

"Not really," she replied in a dry tone.

He laughed and sauntered toward her. "Anyway, I've been wanting to congratulate you on your outstanding choice of a lieutenant."

Xena shrugged. "There weren't many people left to choose from," she said.

"Yeah, it's funny how that worked out."

She stared at him, her eyes narrowing with sudden comprehension. "This is your work, isn't it?" she demanded as she grabbed the front of his tunic in rough hands. "You killed Arsenios."

"Poor old Arsenios," Ares said in a tone of mock sadness. "Now there's a warrior who had more than outlived his usefulness, and he knew it, too. Which is why he had been thinking about offing himself. All I did was encourage him a little bit."

"Encourage him? How? By stabbing him through the heart with his own dagger?"

"Well, there's really no need to dwell on the details, but--"

Xena tightened her grip on his tunic. "And you wrote that note, didn't you?" she went on.

"I pretty much had to," Ares said. "I mean, the man was illiterate, after all."

"So you wrote a fake suicide note, and hoped that Toris would see it."

"Yeah, well, Toris is the impulsive sort, as you well know, and I thought if he--"

"Did you kill my brother?" Xena asked in a low, deadly tone. "Because if you did--"

"No!" Ares exclaimed. "I never laid a hand on him! It's was all Demetri's doing."

"Maybe so. But you knew good and well what would happen if Toris went to Demetri's camp," she said. Then she shoved him away sharply as she released her hold. "You bastard! You're disgusting!" she finished, and turned her back on him.

"Now, Xena, just calm down for a minute and try to see things my way," Ares said, moving quietly to stand behind her. "Everything I did, I did for Cyrelle -- to help her fulfill her destiny."

Xena turned abruptly to face him. "Her destiny as a cold-hearted murderer? Is that what you mean?" she asked.

"No, I mean--"

"Because that's what you're going to end up making of her -- just like you did of me."

He sighed. "We're never going to see eye-to-eye on this, my dear, so--"

"What have you been telling her?" Xena asked. "What are your plans for her?"

"The only 'plan' is to save Amphipolis," Ares said, "which I thought was your plan, too. And I've been telling Cyrelle to be good and obey orders because there's a lot she can learn from her mother."

"So she told me. But where does that leave you in all of this? Is Demetri still your little flunky, or are you on our side now?"

"Oh, so one minute you're calling me a bastard, and the next you're wanting me to fight on your side." He laughed. "Well, I'm definitely pro-Amphipolis now," he assured her. "Demetri has served his purpose, and I regard him as totally expendable. Not that he'll be easy to defeat. He's quite a skilled warrior, you know," he added.

"And when we do defeat him -- which we will -- what will happen then?" Xena asked. "Is that when Cyrelle becomes your Warrior Queen?"

"Yes," he said casually "assuming that's what she wants. But first things first, right? And the first thing is to defend your little hometown from the big, mean warlord."

"Yeah," she said, curling her lip at him.

He chuckled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so happy we've had this little chat," he said, "aren't you? But now I need to be on my merry way. Just call me if you need anything."

"I'll do that," Xena said in cynical tone as she pushed his hand away.

He was still laughing when he disappeared from sight.

* * * * *

Xena stood where she was for several long moments, feeling numb and cold. Then, with slow steps, she limped toward the other end of the courtyard and stopped near the fig tree. Here the scent of herbs mingled with a less pleasant smell -- the odor of rotting flesh. During the previous afternoon, the stench had grown so strong that Xena had placed Toris' head in a bucket with a tight-fitting lid. Later this morning, the remains would be interred in the family tomb, but for now, the courtyard still served as his resting place.

Lowering herself to sit on the ground beside the bucket, Xena reached out to run her fingers over the smooth wood of the cover. This was all that was left to her of Toris, at least physically. His spirit would have crossed over several days ago. Perhaps he was watching her right now from the Elysian Fields, or could at least hear her thoughts. What was it he had said that day at Arsenios' funeral pyre? Something about how he couldn't have asked for a better sister. Now she knew that it had been his way of telling her goodbye.

With a heavy sigh, Xena propped her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. After her talk with Ares, she felt more responsible than ever for Toris' death. If only she had just gone ahead and killed herself after she first broke her leg, instead of giving in to Ares' demands, none of this would have happened. Toris would still be alive, Amphipolis would be safe, and she wouldn't be sitting here now, worrying about whether her daughter might end up some kind of heartless monster.

But it did no good to play the "if only" game. She knew that all too well. And Xena also knew that if she had not given birth to Cyrelle, she would have missed out on some of the deepest joys in life.

The sound of the door opening brought the warrior's reverie to an abrupt end. She looked up to see Acantha rush through the dark courtyard and out the back gate. A moment later, the sound of retching came from the direction of the latrine. Xena shook her head in sympathy, then got to her feet and headed for the house.

The lamp on the table had been lit, and Xena was surprised to see an already-dressed Lyceus coaxing the hearth fire to life. "Weren't you able to sleep?" she asked him.

"Not really," he admitted. Scrambling to his feet, he brushed his hands off on his chiton, then went to the shelf and took down a loaf of bread. He tore off a chunk, stuck it partway in his mouth, and put the rest of the loaf back.

"Is that all you're having for breakfast?" Xena asked as she moved to stand in front of the fire. "I can boil some barley for you, and we've got a few pomegranates."

"I'm not very hungry," Lyceus said through a mouthful of bread that he was chewing without much enthusiasm.

Xena went over to him and reached out to run a hand through his tousled brown hair. "You look so much like your father did when he was young," she said. "And I think you're going to end up being as tall as he was, too."

"Yeah," Lyceus said, and ducked his head, but not before Xena had seen the tears in his eyes.

"You know," she said, "I remember when Toris used to--"

"Don't, Xena, please," he said, looking at her again. "It just hurts too much to talk about him right now."

"Okay," she said softly.

"Mother said it would help if I keep busy. That's why I thought I would go on over to the tavern and get some things done."

Xena put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug. "All right," she said, "but just remember that you're going to feel really sad for a while, and all you can do is try to live with the pain until it gets better."

"I know," Lyceus said, nodding.

"You ask one of your friends to help you with that firewood, and we'll pay him for it, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll get someone," he said. Then he gave her a shaky smile before heading out the door.

Xena bent to add more kindling to the fire, then poured water into a small, blackened pot and hung it over the flames. She was just getting out some herbs when Acantha came in the back door.

With a deep sigh, the widow padded across the earth floor and sat down at the table.

"I'm making you some tea," Xena said as she hobbled over and seated herself across from her sister-in-law.

"I just don't know what could be wrong with me," Acantha moaned as she ran one hand across her forehead to wipe the perspiration off. "It's not just because of Toris. It couldn't be, because it started before he ever left town."

Xena studied the other woman for a few moments in silence, and then asked, "Are you still having your monthly bleeding?"

"No, not really. I mean, I haven't had it for a while -- three months, or maybe longer. I guess I've just reached that age when--" She stopped suddenly and looked at Xena. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I'm thinking you may be with child," the healer said quietly.

"Now?" Acantha asked, sounding incredulous. "After all these years? Now? When Toris is--" She stared at Xena with a wild mixture of hope and grief in her eyes. "Do you really think it's possible?"

"Well, it's probably too early to know for sure, but it would explain a lot of your symptoms -- the nausea and fatigue, and the, uh, moodiness."

"Anybody would be moody," Acantha snapped, "if her husband went off on some mysterious mission and got himself killed."

"Yes, you're quite right," Xena agreed quickly. Then she got up from her chair. "I think I'll see if that water is hot yet," she said.

Taking a mug down from the shelf, she crumbled dried herbs into it and then added hot water. When she glanced back at Acantha, she saw that the other woman was staring down at her abdomen, slowly running her hands over it. Xena carried the mug to the table and set it down.

Acantha looked up then, her face streaked with tears. "I just can't believe it," she said in a choked voice. "Could it be that Toris has left us a child to remember him by?"

"A second child to remember him by," Xena corrected her gently.

A look of pain crossed Acantha's face, and she nodded slightly. "A second child," she acknowledged.

"Lyceus is really torn up about Toris' death," Xena said. "He loved his father very much, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Acantha said with a sigh. "I guess I've been pretty hard on the boy, all these years. It's just that--" Her voice broke, and she stopped speaking.

Xena sat quietly, waiting for her to go on.

"I was just so jealous that Gabrielle could bear Toris a child, and I couldn't," Acantha finished.

"I know that," Xena said, "and Gabrielle knows it, too. But it's been hard for Lyceus to understand sometimes, especially when he was younger."

"I don't think Toris understood how I felt, either," Acantha admitted with a wan smile, "but I just couldn't seem to help myself. Maybe I can do better in the future."

"I'm sure it would mean a lot to Lyceus."

Acantha nodded, and then touched her stomach again. "How long before we know for sure?" she asked.

"Well, I imagine that we can be certain in another month or so. You might not want to tell many people yet. You know, just in case . . ."

"Okay," Acantha said. Then she looked at Xena and asked, "So what's for breakfast? All of a sudden I'm famished!"

* * * * *

"Xena, are you in here?" Gabrielle called two hours later as she pushed open the door of the healer's hut.

Xena looked up from the mortar in which she was crushing herbs. "Hey, lover, I missed you," she said with a soft smile. Then she held open her arms, and when Gabrielle came to her, wrapped her in a warm hug. "How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Not very well."

"Me either. And to make matters worse, I had a little chat with Ares this morning."

Gabrielle pulled away far enough to look up at the warrior's face. "He came here again?"

"I called him," Xena admitted. "I was trying to find out what his plans are for Cyrelle."

"And what did you find out?"

"Not much on that topic, but I did learn a few other things."

"Such as?"

"Well, Arsenios didn't kill himself, for starters."

Gabrielle's eyes widened. "Ares killed him?" she asked.

Xena nodded. "And wrote the suicide note with the idea that Toris would see it."

"By the gods," Gabrielle murmured, shaking her head. "Xena, I am so sorry I showed him that note. What a fool I was! I should have seen that--"

"It's not your fault," the warrior said as she pulled the younger woman close and kissed the top of her head. "I should have seen it, too. The fact is, Ares outsmarted us -- this time."

"Well, we won't let it happen again!" Gabrielle asserted. Then she looked up at Xena. "How are you going to tell Cyrelle?" she asked.

"I'm not going to tell her."

"Why not? She's got to learn that Ares can't be trusted, and if she knows he killed Arsenios and then wrote the note that led Toris to his death--"

"She wouldn't believe me, even if I did tell her," Xena said in a resigned tone. "And if she confronted Ares about it, you know he would either deny the whole thing or else twist the facts to make himself look innocent. In the end, she'd just think I was telling lies about her father, and I'd end up being the villain."

"I guess you're right," Gabrielle admitted. "But it just seems like . . ." Her voice trailed off and she turned away with a heavy sigh.

Not knowing what to say, Xena put her hands on her lover's shoulders and began to massage them gently. She was just starting to feel the muscles relax when Gabrielle abruptly turned to face her again.

"Hey, is it true?" the bard asked. "Do you really think Acantha might be pregnant?"

"I hope so," Xena said with a smile. "I really, really hope so."

"Well, I hope so, too, of course, but it's just so incredibly sad -- I mean, with Toris gone and everything."

"Yes, it's sad, but I think it's the best thing that could happen right now, at least as far as Acantha is concerned."

Gabrielle nodded. "You're probably right," she admitted, "and anyway, I imagine Lyceus would love having a little brother. "Do you know that Acantha actually came to the tavern and apologized to me for the way she's treated Lyceus?"

"Yeah, it looks like having a child of her own might mellow Acantha out a little," Xena said. Then she added, "Of course, if it turns out she's not really expecting . . ."

"She'll be worse than ever to live with?"

"Exactly." Xena grinned. "So how did you manage to escape from your kitchen duties, anyway?"

"Simple. Acantha offered to wash up the breakfast dishes, and I accepted her offer."

"And then you came here to get a hug?"

"No. I mean, yes," Gabrielle said, quickly correcting herself. "But the main reason I came is that I had an idea last night, and I wanted to tell you about it."

Xena raised one eyebrow questioningly, and then drew Gabrielle toward the cot. "Come and sit down," she said. And when they were sitting side by side, she asked, "Does this have anything to do with whatever you were upset about after the meeting?"

"Upset about?"

"Yes. Don't deny it. I saw your face, and I know something was worrying you."

Gabrielle sighed. "It's Cyrelle," she admitted. "Xena, you were standing behind her, so I don't think you saw the look in her eyes."

The warrior felt a cold knot begin to form in her gut. "What look?" she asked.

Gabrielle hesitated, then said, "Well, it was that same kind of look I used to see on your face, too, sometimes." She reached out to take hold of Xena's hand. "It's a look that always scares me, because it means your dark side has taken over."

"I see," Xena said quietly. She turned her gaze toward the pots of herbs, lined up in neat rows on the shelves, and squeezed Gabrielle's hand a little tighter, hoping her lover would not notice her trembling.

"Anyway," Gabrielle said after a few moments of silence, "I got to thinking that maybe we should send for Hercules."

"Hercules!" Xena said in surprise.

"Yeah. Don't you think he could really help us out here?"

"Well, yes, of course. But we don't have any idea where he is right now. He might not even be in Greece. And even if he is, he could never get here before Demetri does."

"Maybe not, but--"

"Besides, I need every able-bodied person we've got to defend this town. I'm not sending anyone out on a wild-goose chase to try to find Hercules."

"I know. I thought of all those things, too, but here's what else I thought."

"What?"

"Well, we've still got a few traders coming through here. Some are at the tavern right now, in fact. So what if we just sent a message with anybody who was headed for Corinth or Athens, and told them to leave word along the way that Hercules is needed in Amphipolis. Wouldn't that work?"

Xena looked at her. "Maybe it would work eventually," she admitted, "but he'll still never get here in time to help fight Demetri."

"He might, if there's a long siege."

"I hope there won't be a long siege."

"I know, but it could still happen, couldn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well then, can't we try sending for Hercules? It can't hurt anything, can it?"

"No, I suppose not," Xena agreed reluctantly.

"Okay, good," Gabrielle said, getting up quickly. "I'll go talk to those traders before they leave. And maybe Lyceus can ride down to Eion and have the wharfmaster send word with the ship captains, too."

"All right," Xena said, nodding. "But don't forget we need to get Toris buried this morning, plus conduct all the usual weapons classes."

"Did Maphias bring the box?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yeah. It's really nice. The lid's all carved with laurel branches. I already put Toris' head in it. Want to see? It's out in the courtyard."

"I'll wait and see it when we do the burial," the younger woman said as she bent to kiss Xena's cheek. "It'll just take me a few minutes to talk to the traders, and then I'll bring the rest of the family back so we can go to the crypt."

"See you soon," Xena said softly, then watched her lover hurry out the door. After that she simply sat staring once more at the herb jars, wishing the rest of her life could be so neatly arranged.

CHAPTER 17

Four days later, a scout returned to Amphipolis with the report that Demetri's army was less than two days' travel away. Gabrielle volunteered to ride out on Argo and carry the warning to everyone outside the city walls, but she found most of the farms deserted. Their owners had already fled to the hills or taken refuge in the city, leaving their livestock loose to forage, while the crops stood untended in the fields.

Meanwhile, in the town itself, much of the normal business ceased, as all thoughts turned to defense preparations. The tavern closed down, and four families took up residence in the six rooms upstairs. A fifth family camped at one end of the downstairs room, while sacks of grain, meal, and other provisions occupied the other end. Acantha's sister and brother-in-law, along with their eight children, had come from outside the walls to share Acantha's house. A large flock of chickens and geese squawked noisily in the courtyard, while the stable sheltered other potential food sources -- five goats, two sheep, and three milk cows.

Freed of her responsibilities at the tavern, Gabrielle spent much of her time working with Xena to conduct weapons classes and oversee the stockpiling of food and firewood. And on two days, the women hitched Argo to the cart and went out gathering herbs, which Gabrielle then helped prepare for storage.

On the day when Demetri's army finally marched into view, Gabrielle joined a throng of townspeople up on the city wall to watch. The soldiers quickly took possession of the bridge, then began setting up camp on the north side of the Strymon. Xena, who chose not to try climbing the ladder to the walkway, paced slowly back and forth below, peering out occasionally through slits in the gate, and listening to the reports of those stationed above.

Just before sundown, a messenger approached, and Xena went out, unarmed, to meet him. Gabrielle could not hear their conversation, but she saw Xena shaking her head, and knew that the warrior was refusing Demetri's demands for the surrender of the city.

At first light on the following day, Demetri's troops swarmed across the bridge, carrying newly-cut trees for use as ramrods. They attacked three gates simultaneously, but soon retreated under the storm of arrows, stones, and invectives hurled by the defenders of Amphipolis. A second assault followed, with similar results, after which the warlord regrouped and deployed his soldiers in a tight ring around the town.

The siege of Amphipolis had begun.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do yet?" Cyrelle asked Xena at the supper table some seven nights later. "I mean, have you figured out how to end the siege?"

Gabrielle looked over at her lover, interested to know how she would answer the question. So far, the siege had caused little hardship, and in the wake of their initial success against Demetri, the townspeople were still in high spirits. The bard herself had been glad for the chance to spend more time with Xena and the children. Tonight, for example, since none of the four of them had drawn guard duty, they were actually able to sit down and eat a meal together. She knew, though, that the good feelings could not last -- especially once food supplies started running low.

Xena studied her daughter in silence for a moment. "I haven't really decided what to do," she said. "What would you suggest?"

"Well, if I were in command--" Cyrelle began. She hesitated and glanced at Lyceus and Gabrielle before hurrying on. "If I were the commander, I would just assemble all the fighters we've got, and we'd sneak out at dawn and go attack Demetri when he was least expecting it."

"So you'd launch a surprise attack," Xena said, "with the intention of capturing Demetri's men?"

"Yeah, capturing, killing, whatever."

"And what if his lookouts saw your troops crossing the bridge, so the attack wasn't a surprise after all?"

"We wouldn't have to cross the bridge," Cyrelle said quickly. "We could have people swim the river in the dark and surround the camp. Then we'd attack at dawn."

"I see," Xena mused. "And how would you get all your people out of the city and across the river without any of Demetri's men seeing them?"

"Well, we could just kill the guards and then we could--"

"How many guards are out there right now, watching Amphipolis?" Xena asked.

"Right now?"

"Yes. Right at this instant. A commander has to know these things."

"Uh, fifteen?"

"Eighteen," Xena asserted. "There are three watching each gate. And how many will there be later on, after it gets dark?"

"The same number?"

"More," Xena said, shaking her head. "We think there are twenty-five or thirty out there every night, although it's a little hard to count them in the dark."

Cyrelle was silent for a few moments. "I still think we could get past them," she said, "one way or another."

"Yes, some of your people probably could," Xena admitted. "But others would get caught and killed, or they might drown while crossing the river. So your numbers would be down before you even got a chance to attack."

"Cyrelle, these are not trained warriors we're talking about," Gabrielle reminded her. "They're villagers who've been taught something about defending themselves, but going on the offensive is a different matter."

The girl frowned at Gabrielle, and then looked at her mother. "Well, what's your idea then, if you don't like mine?" she asked.

Xena shrugged. "I don't have a definite plan yet," she admitted, "although I've been mulling over some ideas. Mostly, I've just been watching and trying to figure out how Demetri operates." She paused long enough to take a swallow of mead from her mug, and then went on. "Cyrelle's right about one thing, though," she said. "If we're going to break out of the siege, we're going to have to launch some kind of attack. We just need to find a time when the enemy is vulnerable, so that we stand a chance of defeating them."

"It's too bad Uncle Joxer isn't here," Lyceus said with a grin. "Remember that story about how he made the whole Scythian army sick with his stew?"

Gabrielle laughed. "Yes, that made a good story," she agreed, "but personally, I'll be quite happy if I never have to eat any of Joxer's--" She stopped suddenly, as she caught sight of the look on Xena's face. "What are you thinking?" she asked the warrior.

"I'm thinking Lyceus may have just made a good suggestion."

"What?" asked Cyrelle. "To send for Uncle Joxer?"

Xena shook her head. "No, we don't need Joxer," she said. "We just need his cooking technique."

"You mean you want to poison the enemy's grain supply," asked Lyceus, "like you did that time at Corinth?"

"Possibly," Xena said. "But it wouldn't necessarily have to be the grain. We could put something in their wine or maybe in their leaven or meal. A lot would depend on what sorts of herbs we used, and how those herbs could best be prepared."

"But no matter how you did it, someone would have to sneak into Demetri's camp, wouldn't they?" asked Cyrelle.

"Yes," said the warrior.

"Oh, let me!" exclaimed the girl. "I know I could do it! Please, Mother! Let me!"

"No!" Xena said quickly. "It would have to be someone with a lot more experience in that sort of work -- someone who could be creative and flexible in a tight situation, and not just start killing people left and right."

"But I wouldn't--" Cyrelle began.

"And besides," Xena said, cutting her off. "It's not the kind of risk I would let you take, as my second-in-command, because I'll need you later, to lead the attack -- assuming we're in a position to make one."

Cyrelle nodded, seemingly satisfied with this explanation.

There were a few moments of silence, and then Gabrielle said quietly, "I'll go. I can sneak into Demetri's camp."

Xena turned the intensity of her blue eyes on the bard. "Are you sure you want to do that?" she asked. "It could be quite dangerous. If they caught you--"

"I know, but I want to try, anyway," Gabrielle insisted.

The warrior hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "All right," she said, "but maybe we should send two people."

"That will mean twice as much chance of getting caught," Gabrielle said.

"Yes," responded Xena, "but it will also mean you can work twice as fast. And if one person is captured, the second one might still finish the job and get away."

Lyceus leaned forward. "Can I go, Xena?" he asked eagerly. "Please? I promise I'll be really careful and quiet, too, and I'll do everything just the way Mother tells me to do it."

Gabrielle felt a sudden surge of icy fear rush through her, and she looked at Xena, waiting for the older woman to refuse the boy's request. But instead, the warrior studied Lyceus in silence for several long moments, then turned to ask, "What do you think, Gabrielle?"

The bard shook her head. "It's not a good idea, Lyceus," she said, addressing her son. "You're young, and you've never done anything like this before and--"

"That's just the point," the boy broke in. "I want to be a bard, but I don't have any stories of my own to tell. I need to do some things, have some adventures! Please, Mother," he pleaded. "I know I'm young, but so were you when you left home to follow Xena. I know I can do this, and I can do a good job, too, if you'll just let me."

She stared at him, remembering all too well how it had felt to be that age, believing that life was passing you by, and nothing of interest would ever happen to you. She knew exactly how desperate he was to be part of what he perceived as a big, exciting adventure. But at this point in her own life, she could no longer see it as an adventure, but only as a terrible risk that she was not willing to let her only son take. She opened her mouth to say no, but her voice refused to function, so she looked to Xena for help.

And to her amazement, she heard her lover say, "I actually think Lyceus might be a good choice to help with this mission. He follows orders well, he can think on his feet, and he's likely to stay calm in an emergency. Besides which," she added with a grin, "I suspect he has his mother's talent for talking his way out of sticky situations."

"See?" Lyceus said happily, "Xena thinks I can do it! Won't you please let me try, Mother?"

He was looking at her again, in a way that made it so very hard to resist him. "All right," she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "You can go."

"Whoopee!" cried the boy, clapping his hands.

"I don't get it," Cyrelle said in a sour tone. "How come he gets to go and I don't?"

"Well," Xena began, "like I told you, it's because--"

"It's because you're her lieutenant," Lyceus interrupted, smiling broadly, "so you're important. But I'm just a foot soldier, so I'm expendable."

Xena reached out and grabbed him by the arm. "You are not expendable!" she exclaimed, giving him a shake, "and I won't have you talking like that!" She turned her gaze on each of them in turn. "None of you is expendable," she went on in a voice rough with emotion. "You're my family, and I love you. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to any of you, just like I will never forgive myself for what happened to Toris." She stopped speaking and let go of Lyceus' arm.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Xena," Gabrielle began. She was about to go on, but the warrior cut her off with a sharp look.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Xena said. "I just want all of you to be careful, and promise me that you won't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Okay," the three of them said, nodding.

Then Gabrielle put her hand over Xena's, and as her lover's fingers closed around her own, she couldn't be sure which of their two hands was trembling more.

* * * * *

Three nights later, Gabrielle and Lyceus stood waiting in the shadows just inside the northwest city gate. Neither spoke, as they strained their ears for any sounds that might give a clue about what was happening beyond the walls. It was the dark of the moon, the blackest night of the month, and even though the massive gate stood slightly ajar, and Xena had positioned herself just outside it, Gabrielle could see nothing to indicate that her lover was there.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, there came a whisper from the warrior, "I hear something. Maybe they've caught one of them." And Gabrielle heard Xena move quietly away into the night.

A few moments later, the gate opened wider, and two dark figures dragged a third one in and dropped him unceremoniously on the ground.

"Get his armor off of him," Xena ordered in a low voice, "and then tie him up." She thrust a length of rope into Gabrielle's hands, then disappeared, along with the other two, back out through the gate.

Gabrielle and Lyceus crouched beside the unconscious soldier and began pulling off his leather cuirass and helmet.

"Do you want this guy's armor," Lyceus asked, "or shall I wear it?"

"You go ahead," she responded. "I'm hoping the second guard they capture will be a little smaller than this one." Then, pulling the man's hands together in front of him, she began wrapping the rope around his wrists.

"Wow, this is really heavy," Lyceus exclaimed.

Gabrielle looked up to see her son silhouetted against the stars, now dressed in the helmet and leather breastplate. "That's the idea," she said. "Armor has to be heavy so it will protect you."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he admitted. "But why does it have to smell like sweat?"

She laughed as she began to tie the guard's ankles. "I think you'll find that most armor smells like that," she said. "It's not very washable, you know." A sound from the direction of the gate made her look up. A second limp form was half-carried, half-dragged in from outside, and laid on the ground.

"I can probably get you a third one," Gabrielle heard Cyrelle whisper to Xena. "I think I saw which way he went."

"No," the warrior responded. "We only need two sets of armor, and if too many guards go missing, somebody might notice. Sandros, can you tell our guards to bar the gate?"

"Sure," the young man said as he moved away.

"Lyceus," Xena went on, "run to the house and bring back a torch. Once the gate is closed, it will be safe to show a light."

The boy scrambled to his feet and headed for the house.

"Are you going to put the pinch on them?" Cyrelle asked.

"Yes, but first we have to wait until they come to."

"Can I do the pinch?" the girl asked eagerly.

"No," Xena said. "Just watch and learn this time."

Gabrielle heard the sound of returning footsteps and glanced up, but it was too dark to see the face of Maphias' son, Sandros.

"Is that armor going to fit you two okay?" he asked her.

"It's a little big," she said, "but in this darkness, it won't really matter whether it fits or not."

One of the guards sighed and moaned a little just as Lyceus came running toward them with the torch. Xena knelt beside the man, reached down, and hauled him to a sitting position. Blinking groggily at her in the torchlight, he murmured, "What happened?"

"You've been captured by the defenders of Amphipolis," she informed him. "My name is Xena. Maybe you've heard of me."

"Everybody's heard of Xena," he said, frowning and looking around at the others. "How many of us were captured?" he asked as he caught sight of his fallen companion.

"Just the two of you," Xena said, then added, "We need you to give us some information. Now, you can either do that voluntarily, or I can use my neck pinch and force it out of you. Which will it be?"

"What kind of information?"

"We need to know the layout of your camp, and where the food supplies are kept." Xena shoved a stick into the prisoner's bound hands and then wiped a space clear on the ground in front of him. "Draw it," she commanded.

He looked at her doubtfully for several moments, then slowly bent over and began to sketch the layout of the camp. By the time he finished, the other prisoner was awake, and Xena took him a short distance away to draw a second map.

"The sketches match pretty closely," the warrior announced when the two men had finished, "so I think we can believe them. Gabrielle, you and Lyceus need to memorize the layout. If I were you, I'd cross the river on the west side of town, and then try to enter the camp here." She drew a line in the dirt. "That will put you fairly close to the supply tent, which is here," she added, and then glanced up at them. "But use your own judgment when you get there and see what's really going on."

Gabrielle nodded. She and Lyceus studied the drawings for a few minutes, and Gabrielle asked the men several questions: Which tent was Demetri's? Were there guards posted around the camp? What was kept in the supply tent? "Okay, I think we've got it," she said at last, and glanced at her son for confirmation.

"Good," Xena said. She straightened up and then used her right foot to erase the drawings. "Cyrelle, I'll let you and Sandros take the prisoners over to the gymnasium," she went on, "and you'll need to assign someone to guard them."

"Okay," the girl said, then grabbed one of the men by the arm. "Get up!" she told him, and he stumbled to his feet.

"Is the gymnasium going to be a prison now?" asked Lyceus.

"Yes," Xena said. "We'll use part of the space for prisoners, and another part to care for the wounded -- but I hope we won't have many of those," she added.

"Are you two leaving now?" Cyrelle asked, turning to Lyceus and Gabrielle.

"Yeah, I guess we are," the bard said.

"Well, we're counting on you," the girl said, "and I know you'll do a good job." She smiled at them, and her features softened. "Be careful," she added.

"We will be," Lyceus responded. "We'll be back before you even miss us."

"Okay. Good luck," Cyrelle said, touching Lyceus' arm briefly, and then taking the torch from him. "Are you ready?" she asked Sandros. He nodded, and the two of them headed their prisoners off in the direction of the gymnasium.

With the torch gone, the darkness seemed more intense than ever. For a few moments, no one seemed to know what to say, and then Xena asked, "Have you got the herbs?"

"I've got mine," Gabrielle responded as she fingered the leather pouch hanging from a thong around her neck.

"Me, too," Lyceus said

"Don't get them wet when you're crossing the river," Xena said.

"We'll be careful," Gabrielle assured her, smiling a little at her lover's show of motherly concern.

"You know where to cross, don't you?" the warrior went on. "It's that place where the old ford used to be. Can you find it in the dark?"

"We'll find it," Lyceus said. "I know right where it is."

"Good," Xena said. "The water shouldn't be more than thigh deep, this time of year."

Gabrielle reached out to lay a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "Don't worry about us, Xena," she said. "We'll be just fine."

"I know you will," the warrior responded. "It's just that-- Well, I'm not sure we can believe everything those two guards told us, so I want you to be alert, and use your heads. Don't take any foolish chances. If you get there and it doesn't look like you can do the job safely, then come on back. We'll think of some other way to win this little war."

"Which gate should we come back to?" asked Lyceus.

"Whichever one is easiest to reach," Xena said. "All of our people know to be on the lookout for you, and they'll let you in."

"I guess we'd better get going," Gabrielle said. "I mean, if we want to get in there and out again before they notice that two guards are missing."

"Right," Xena said, and then put one arm around Lyceus in a fierce hug. "Do everything just like your mother tells you to," she said.

"I will, I promise," he responded as he returned the hug.

Then the warrior turned to embrace Gabrielle. "Come back safe to me," the bard heard her murmur. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Gabrielle said, and gave her a quick kiss. Then she and Lyceus walked to the gate, and slipped out into the darkness beyond the wall.

* * * * *

It all went amazingly well -- up to a certain point. Gabrielle and Lyceus got away from the town without detection, crossed the river, and circled around to the enemy camp, which turned out to be lightly guarded. The campfires had all burned down, and the few men who still sat beside them paid no attention to the two figures in armor who passed quietly among the tents.

When they reached what they supposed to be the supply tent, Gabrielle made Lyceus wait where the shadows were deepest while she crept in through the flap on hands and knees. Holding her breath, she felt her way slowly in the blackness. There were no sounds of breathing or snoring, so that was encouraging. She had only gone about two paces when her hand encountered something bulky wrapped in rough fabric. With a small gasp, she jerked her hand back, and then reached out cautiously to touch it again. It was not a sleeping soldier, she realized with relief, but a sack of meal. Crawling back to the doorway, she whispered a summons to Lyceus.

They worked as quickly as they could in the darkness, searching first of all for the wineskins, which they found by touch. Then they poured powdered herbs into each one, using small funnels made of parchment.

"I can't find anymore wineskins," Lyceus whispered after a time.

"Okay, let's start on the bags of meal," Gabrielle whispered back. She untied the first sack she came to, added several large pinches of herbs, and stirred the mixture with her hand. Then she tied the sack shut again.

"How much are you putting in?" Lyceus asked.

"About this much," Gabrielle said, taking his hand and pouring some of the powdered mixture into it.

"Okay," he said, "but I don't have a whole lot of herbs left."

"When we run out, we'll quit," Gabrielle returned. "But we really shouldn't be talking," she added.

"Yes, Commander. I'm shutting up right now," he whispered. And she could tell from the sound of his voice that he was grinning.

She resisted the temptation to answer his teasing, and they worked in silence for several more minutes. "I'm all out of herbs," she whispered at last. "How about you?"

"Just finishing," he said.

Gabrielle stood up and was moving toward Lyceus when she stumbled against a clay pot and pitched forward into a tent pole. "Shit!" she exclaimed, more loudly than she meant to.

"Are you all right, Mother?" Lyceus asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but--"

"Listen!" he said suddenly. "I think someone's coming!"

Gabrielle heard it, too -- the sound of footsteps stopping outside the tent, and a low murmur of voices.

"Give me the pouch you had the herbs in, and your funnel," she whispered. "I'll hide them someplace. We can't let them find out what we've been doing."

He handed her the pouch, and she felt her way toward the back of the tent. Then, crouching down, she pulled out one of her sai, pried up a piece of sod, and stuffed the pouches under it.

"Hurry! They're coming!" Lyceus hissed.

Gabrielle tramped the spot down and pulled a bag of meal over it. "Maybe there's a way to get out back here," she said, feeling for the back wall of the tent.

But it was too late. The front flap opened abruptly, and two warriors armed with drawn swords and torches pushed their way into the tent. "Who's in here, and what are you doing?" one of the men asked.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Lyceus said quickly in a contrite tone, "but we woke up and, well, we kind of had the munchies, so we--"

"So you put on all your armor and came to raid the supplies, is that it?"

"Uh, yeah, well--"

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Dion, Sir."

"And yours?" the guard asked Gabrielle, thrusting the torch toward her.

"Leandros," she responded in the most masculine voice she could muster. "Please take pity on us, Sir," she went on. "We're just young recruits, and we miss our mothers' good home cooking."

"More likely you were stealing a nice, fat wineskin," muttered one guard. "You're not going to find any 'home cooking' here, unless you boil the grain yourself."

"Dion? Leandros?" mused the other guard. "I don't remember anybody with those names in our outfit."

"We only just joined," Lyceus told him. "We're cousins, from Poteidaia."

Gabrielle did a rapid survey of their surroundings, which were now illuminated by torchlight. There was indeed a flap in the back wall of the tent, only about three paces from where she stood. If she and Lyceus could just get out, they could very likely outrun the guards. But the boy was standing much farther from the opening than she was, with a pile of jars and grain sacks blocking his escape. Maybe it would be better simply to charge the guards, but starting a fight would attract a lot of attention, and there would be a bigger risk that Lyceus would get hurt. No, escape was the best way.

"Poteidaia," the guard was saying. "We don't have any new recruits from Poteidaia. Not that I heard of, anyway."

Lyceus looked at Gabrielle, and she gestured with her eyes toward the tent's back flap. The boy nodded slightly and began to edge in that direction. Gabrielle fingered the sai she still held hidden next to her body and slowly bent to reach for the other one. She could throw them at the guards while Lyceus made his break, and then follow him. It was a good plan -- one that she suddenly felt confident would work.

"Well, your story sounds pretty fishy to me," the first guard said, "so I think you'd better go tell it to Altair." Then, apparently catching sight of Gabrielle's surreptitious movement, he exclaimed, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Just scratching an itch," she said.

But before her fingers could close around the handle of the second sai, a large, burly man shoved his way in through the flap in the back wall. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Oh, Altair, Sir," one of the guards said, "we caught these two young recruits in here stealing food. Said they were homesick for their mamas' cooking."

The man called Altair looked from Lyceus to Gabrielle with a narrowed gaze. "These are no recruits," he said in a low voice. "They're enemy spies. Seize him!" he added, nodding toward Lyceus, and the two guards sprang into action.

Gabrielle lunged at Altair, her sai raised in the striking position, but he reacted faster than she anticipated, grabbing her wrist in one heavy hand, and the front of her cuirass in the other. She gave a cry as she felt her wrist bones snap in his grasp, and her sai fell, useless, to the ground.

She ceased struggling, as a wave of pain and nausea swept over her. But those quickly gave way to panic, when she turned to look at Lyceus. He stood, white-faced, his arms pinned behind him by one of the guards, while the other pointed a dagger at his throat.

"No! Don't hurt him!" cried Gabrielle. She whirled back around to face Altair. "We won't try to escape -- I give you my word!"

"Oh, you give me your word, do you?" Altair asked in a sarcastic tone. "Well, just who are you that I should take your word?" And he reached out to jerk the helmet off her head.

"It's a woman!" exclaimed one of the guards.

"Of course, it's a woman," Altair responded. "You fools couldn't figure that out? Who else would fight in a cripple's army but a bunch of women and sissies?"

"This one's just a boy," the other guard reported, and Gabrielle twisted around to see that they had pulled Lyceus' helmet off, too.

She turned back to look at Altair, remembering suddenly where she had heard the name before. He was one of Demetri's two lieutenants, the bastards who, according to Cyrelle, had beheaded Toris. No wonder his face looked so hideous to her -- the sallow skin all pockmarked and scarred, the teeth stained and broken. Were those cold, black eyes the last ones Toris had seen before he died, and had they glittered as maliciously then as they did in the torchlight now?

"I know who you are," she said bluntly. "You're one of Demetri's despicable henchmen."

"Yes, and I know who you are, too," Altair responded. "I saw you once, years ago, near Athens, following the so-called Warrior Princess around like some kind of pathetic puppy dog. You're Gabrielle, Xena's little lover bitch."

"Yes, I'm Gabrielle," she answered in a flat tone.

He nodded, then turned his attention to Lyceus. "And who do we have over here? Let's get a closer look," he added, shoving Gabrielle in that direction. Surprised by his sudden directive, she stumbled over a cooking pot, nearly losing her balance. Altair tightened his grip on her wrist, sending a new jolt of pain up her arm, and she cried out again.

"Don't! You're hurting her!" Lyceus exclaimed. Then he began jerking his arms and stamping at his captor's feet in an effort to free himself.

"Hey! Quit that!" the second guard shouted, giving the boy a hard slap across the face, and Lyceus stood still.

"A feisty one, isn't he?" Altair commented. "What's your name, boy?"

"Lyceus," he mumbled, and Gabrielle saw that he was fighting back tears.

"Lyceus," Altair repeated. "You know, you look a little like Xena. Are you her son?"

"No."

"Well then, whose son are you?"

Lyceus gave him a defiant look. "I don't have to tell you anything," he asserted.

Altair laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "We have ways of making people talk."

Gabrielle felt a chill of sheer terror run down her spine. She turned to her captor. "Please," she said, "just let the boy go. He doesn't know anything about military strategy. I'm the one you want to talk to. Xena confides in me. You can ask me anything."

The lieutenant laughed again. "Yes, of course we can ask you anything, and we will," he added, "but the question is, will you give us any answers?" He grinned. "No, I think the boy probably knows quite a bit, and he could be very useful to us."

"No! Please! I beg you!" Gabrielle pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of Altair. She had no pride left now, and no dignity. All that mattered was saving her son. "Keep me as your prisoner," she said. "Do whatever you want to me. Just let Lyceus go! He's so young and--"

"Mother, don't!" Lyceus burst out. Then he stopped, apparently realizing what he had said.

"Well, well, well," said Altair with a nasty smirk. "Mother and son. This could prove to be quite interesting! I'm even thinking maybe we should wake the boss up, just so he won't miss out on any of the fun. What do you think, boys?" he asked the guards.

"You're right, Altair," one of them responded. "Demetri loves this kind of thing."

"Okay. Let's go then," the lieutenant said. And pulling Gabrielle roughly to her feet, he gripped her by the arms and propelled her out of the tent.

CHAPTER 18

"Something's gone wrong," Xena said to Maphias. "They should have been back long before this."

"Oh, I'm sure they're all right," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

The two of them were standing inside the front gate, beneath a pre-dawn sky from which most of the stars had vanished. Xena had spent most of the long hours of that night pacing restlessly back and forth from the main gate to the northwest one, trying to ignore the sense of dread that clutched more and more tightly at her heart.

"Maybe it just took longer than they thought it would," Maphias suggested, "and now they're hiding out someplace, waiting until it gets dark again tonight."

"Maybe," Xena said grimly, wondering how she could possibly endure another day of such suspense.

"Or maybe they came in through one of the other gates."

"Cyrelle went to check with the other gatekeepers," Xena said, then added, "She should be back soon." She peered as far as she could down the street, but saw no sign of the girl. "I should never have sent those two on such a dangerous mission in the first place," she continued. "I should have sent someone else -- maybe you, or Sandros--"

"Or someone you don't love as much as you love Gabrielle and Lyceus?" Maphias said.

"Well, I didn't mean it that way."

"Yes, you did," he said with a smile. "But I'm not offended. I'm just wondering why you did choose them to send."

"Because I thought they were the best ones for the job," she admitted. "And I was trying to keep family considerations out of it."

He nodded. "If a commander isn't willing to take some personal risks, then she can't expect her subordinates to do the same, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said in a dull tone. Then the sound of running footsteps made her look up. It was Cyrelle, coming from the east side of town. Xena hurried to meet her, hoping the fact that the girl was running meant there was good news. But then she remembered that Cyrelle always ran, no matter what the occasion.

"No one's seen them," the girl announced breathlessly as she came to a halt in front of Xena. "Do you think Demetri might have caught them?"

"I don't know. It's possible," Xena said.

"If he hurts either one of them, even the tiniest bit, I'll kill him!" Cyrelle exclaimed. "I'll kill him so dead that he--" She stopped, apparently unable to think of a suitable way to finish her threat.

Xena studied her daughter for several moments, strangely glad to see the girl's distress. Maybe Gabrielle was right. Maybe Cyrelle really did care about someone besides herself.

"What are you going to do, Mother? Are you going to try to find them and save them? Are you going to Demetri's camp?"

But Xena chose not to answer those questions. Instead, she asked, "What's Ares up to these days?"

"Ares?"

"Yes, Ares. Your father. Does he come around pretty often to talk to you?"

"Oh, well sure," Cyrelle said casually. "I see him almost every day."

"So what does he say? Has he offered any advice? He told us he was fighting on our side, so he's supposed to be helping us out here."

"He said that thing with the herbs -- that was really brilliant," Cyrelle reported with a grin. "He said that was so typical of you, to think up some great plan like that. And he said it would work, too."

"It would work how? At the cost of losing Gabrielle and Lyceus?"

"No, he didn't say anything about--"

"Because Ares only cares about the end result, you know, and not about any sacrifices that have to be made in order to get there."

"Well, um, Ares never said anything about anybody getting hurt, really," the girl stammered.

"Fine," Xena said, "then if he thinks this plan is so great, maybe he knows what's going on with Gabrielle and Lyceus," Xena said. "And if he doesn't know, it seems like he could at least find out for us. Have you talked to him today?"

"No, but--"

"Xena!" shouted a boy who was up on the wall, acting as a lookout. "We think there are some people coming across the bridge from Demetri's camp!"

"How many people?" Xena asked, as she turned and started back toward the gate.

"We're not absolutely sure," responded the second lookout. He was an older man, a farmer who had taken refuge inside the city. "There's a heavy mist rising off the river," he went on, "but it looks like maybe two people, and they seem to be wearing helmets."

"Do you think it's Lyceus and Gabrielle?" Cyrelle asked eagerly, as she hurried along beside Xena.

"I doubt it," Xena said. "They'd have to be crazy to come back here when it's this light -- even wearing armor as a disguise. Can you see anything, Maphias?" she asked as she came up to where he was looking out through a slit in the gate.

"Not much," he said. "I think the view is probably better from up on the wall."

"I'm going up there!" Cyrelle exclaimed. Then, in one graceful leap, she went all the way up, over the railing, and landed on the walkway.

Xena shook her head, remembering when she could have done the same thing. But the strength and agility of her youth were long gone, so she moved to the wall and peered through one of the narrow openings. By straining her eyes, she was just able to make out the gray silhouettes of soldiers in the mist.

"It looks like they're carrying something," Cyrelle called down from the walkway.

"What kind of something?" Maphias asked.

"I don't know. It's between them and it might be--" the girl paused to study the situation for a few moments. "Yeah, I think it might be a person that they're sort of carrying or dragging or something."

Xena felt a shiver run down her spine. She looked out again, but could see little more than before. Backing away from the wall, she stared up at the walkway in frustration. "Maphias," she called, and when he turned to look at her, she tossed her crutch to him. "Hold this. I'm going up on the walkway."

"Xena, how can you--" he began, but she had already grabbed hold of the ladder and was pulling herself up with her hands, one rung at a time. She did not use her right leg at all, but let it dangle while she rested her left foot on each new rung. When she reached the top, the two guards caught her by the arms and lifted her onto the walkway.

"Thanks," she said, brushing her hands off against her trouser legs. Then she limped to the wall and looked out over the top. For several long moments, she watched the advancing figures in silence.

"Well, Cyrelle is right," the farmer said. "There are definitely three of them."

"Yeah," the boy agreed, "and that one in the middle looks to be half dead or something."

"Maybe more than half," Cyrelle said in a joking tone. "What do you think, Xena? You haven't said a word since you got up here."

Xena kept her eyes locked on the middle figure, and as the first rays of the rising sun slid across the landscape, she caught a glimpse of blond hair. "It's Gabrielle," she said grimly.

"Gabrielle?" asked Cyrelle. "You mean the one in the middle?"

"Yes."

"By the gods, so it is!" exclaimed the older lookout.

"Yes! I can see her now, myself," Maphias called from down below. "You've got a good eye, Xena."

"Is she dead?" Cyrelle asked in a hushed voice.

"No, she's not dead," Xena assured her. "See how she tries to walk part of the time? Then she stumbles, and they drag her a ways until she gets her feet under her again."

The girl nodded. "Yeah, you're right," she said. Then she asked, "What do you think they did to her?"

"I don't know. Probably tortured her to get information."

"Those filthy sons of bitches," muttered the younger guard, and spat over the wall.

"What about Lyceus?" Cyrelle asked. "Do you think he got away?"

"It's possible," Xena said, "or else they're still holding him prisoner."

"More than likely they killed him, just like they did Toris," the farmer commented.

"No," Xena said quickly, "if they had killed him, they would be bringing his body back to us as a warning. My guess is they'll use him as a bargaining chip in the negotiations."

She stared out at the approaching figures again. Gabrielle's head hung down, and she now made little effort to walk, letting herself be supported with an arm around each of the soldiers' necks. Xena tried not to think about what Demetri and his crew might have done to her lover. It was enough to know that she was still alive.

Hobbling back over to the top of the ladder, she stood and considered how best to descend.

Maphias moved out from under the walkway and looked up at her. "Are you going out to meet them?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, then added, "Stand right where you are. I'm coming down." She leaned forward, tucked herself into a flip, and landed beside Maphias, with most of her weight on her left foot. She grabbed his arm to keep from losing her balance.

"Zeus!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think you could still do that kind of thing!"

She grinned. "I didn't think so either," she admitted, "but it's nice to know I was wrong."

A moment later, Cyrelle did her own flip down from the walkway. "Wow, Mother! That was pretty good!" she commented.

"Yeah, for an old, lame person," Xena agreed. Then she reached out to take her crutch from Maphias, and stuck it under her arm. "Let's get this gate open," she said.

Cyrelle and Maphias slid back the bar, and pulled the gate open far enough for Xena to get through. She handed her sword and chakram to Cyrelle, and then went out to wait for the delegation from Demetri's camp.

When they came within arrow range of the wall, they stopped, and one of the soldiers called out, "We come unarmed, with a message from Demetri."

"Approach," Xena called back. "You will not be fired on." And then, although she longed to run to Gabrielle, she forced herself to stand where she was until the men had brought the bard near and released their hold on her. With a groan, Gabrielle sank to her knees, and then collapsed facedown on the dusty road.

Xena stared down at her, and struggled to keep her features impassive despite the sudden horror and rage that swept over her. Only a few shreds of Gabrielle's chiton still clung to a back now bloody and crisscrossed with lash marks. Swallowing hard, Xena returned her fierce gaze to the messengers.

"The same or worse will be done to anyone else caught spying or stealing in our camp," one of the men announced in a formal tone, as if reciting a message he had memorized. "And unless Amphipolis surrenders according to the terms Demetri has set forth--"

"What's your name, soldier?" Xena interrupted. She recognized him as the same messenger who had delivered Toris' head -- which would explain why he seemed nervous and unwilling to look at her directly.

"Makar," he said in surprise.

"And yours?" she asked the other man.

"Milos," he answered.

"Well, Makar and Milos," she said. "Are you really enjoying this life of yours? Torturing people? Destroying their homes and ruining their lives? Murdering women and children?"

"We only do what we're commanded to do," Milos said staunchly.

"Why? Because you aren't smart enough to think for yourselves?" she shot back. Then, using her crutch for support, she knelt down and laid her hand on her lover's head. "Gabrielle," she called softly.

The younger woman opened her eyes. "Xena?" she murmured.

"You're going to be fine," the warrior assured her. "I'll get you all patched up and give you something for the pain."

"Xena," Gabrielle said again. She tried to push herself up with her right arm, but gave a sharp moan and switched to the left one.

"What is it, love?" Xena asked. Gabrielle's right wrist looked bruised and swollen, probably broken, she noted.

"They've got Lyceus," Gabrielle said. "You have to save him. Please, Xena! You have to get him out of there!"

"Don't worry," Xena said quickly. "I'll take care of Lyceus. Everything's going to be fine."

Gabrielle nodded, and then closed her eyes as she let her head drop to the ground again.

Xena pulled herself back to her feet and tucked her crutch under her arm. "What have you done to the boy?" she asked the soldiers.

"Nothing yet," Makar answered. "Demetri is willing to negotiate the boy's fate. He can meet with you at midday in his tent. You must come alone and unarmed."

"Tell Demetri I'll be there," Xena said.

The men nodded, then turned and headed back toward the bridge.

* * * * *

"Gabrielle, do you feel like talking at all?" Xena asked. "I really need to know what happened."

The younger woman was lying on her stomach in bed while the healer gently applied ointment to her lacerated back. As soon as they arrived home, Xena had given Gabrielle enough opium to blunt the pain without making her sleepy, but when there was no response to her question, Xena wondered if she had given too much of the drug.

"They made him watch while they flogged me," Gabrielle said at last. She spoke in a low voice, and did not open her eyes.

"Made who watch? Lyceus?"

"Yes."

"Those disgusting bastards!" Xena said, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Gabrielle." Then, seeing a tear slide out from under her lover's eyelid, she reached out to brush it away.

Gabrielle opened her eyes and more tears spilled out. "I wouldn't have cared about being brave," she said, "except that Lyceus was there. I wouldn't have cared what they did to me."

"I know," Xena said softly. Then, after a moment, she asked, "Did they hurt Lyceus?"

"No, just tied him up, and I think they hit him a few times, but--" She stopped speaking as her body began to shake with sobs.

"Shh, it's all right," Xena said, stroking Gabrielle's face and holding her left hand tightly in her own.

"What if they kill him?" Gabrielle sobbed. "I'm so afraid they'll kill him!" She tried to push herself up with her other hand, and cried out in pain.

"Don't, Sweetheart!" Xena exclaimed. "Don't use that arm -- it's broken!"

Gabrielle sank back down. "It hurts so bad," she whimpered. "Everything hurts. But my heart hurts most of all. If anything happens to Lyceus--"

"Nothing's going to happen to him," Xena assured her. "They want to use him to negotiate, so they aren't going to hurt him."

"Negotiate?"

"Yes. I'm guessing Demetri will offer to release Lyceus if Amphipolis will agree to surrender."

"Surrender?" Gabrielle repeated, sounding confused. "We can't surrender. But we can't let them kill Lyceus, either, so we'll have to surrender. Won't we?"

"No," Xena said. "At least, I hope not. I'm not sure how we'll work it out yet, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep our boy safe."

Gabrielle sighed and closed her eyes. Her face looked unusually pale, with a sheen of perspiration on it, and Xena guessed she must still be feeling quite a bit of pain. Putting the lid on the jar of ointment, she wiped her hands on a rag.

"I'll just get that arm set and splinted, and then give you some more opium so you can sleep," she said.

There was no response from Gabrielle, and Xena moved around the bed to sit on the side where the broken arm was. With gentle hands, she eased it away from Gabrielle's body, then hit the pressure points near the shoulder. "There. Is that better?" she asked.

Gabrielle nodded.

"How did your arm get broken?" Xena asked as she probed the swollen area.

The younger woman mumbled something.

"I can't hear you, Sweetheart," Xena said. "Why don't you turn your face towards me?"

Groaning a little, Gabrielle raised up enough to turn her head. "Altair broke it," she said in a tired voice.

"Altair? One of Demetri's lieutenants?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did he break it while he was flogging you?"

"No. Before. When he first caught me. Just squeezed my arm really hard."

"Wow. He must be quite a brute."

"Yeah. Titos, too."

"Who's Titos? The other lieutenant?"

"Uh-huh. Short guy. Mean. He flogged me while Altair asked the questions."

Xena grimaced as she pictured the scene. Then she pulled carefully on Gabrielle's hand, checking the alignment of the bones meanwhile, but there was so much swelling that it was hard to feel anything. "What about Demetri?" she asked. "Was he there?"

"He's a cold-hearted bastard," Gabrielle said. "Gave the orders, then mostly just watched. And laughed. Asked a few questions."

"What did you tell them?" Xena asked softly.

"I'm not sure," Gabrielle said, and a look of confusion came back into her eyes. "They kept asking Lyceus questions while they were flogging me, and he told them some things, but I passed out a couple of times, so . . ." Her voice trailed off, but then, rallying, she said, "Xena, we should never have let Lyceus go. It was too dangerous. I should never have said yes when he asked me. Why didn't I just say no?"

"I'm as much to blame as you are -- more so, in fact. I'm the commander, and I made an error in judgment."

"What are we going to do, Xena?" asked Gabrielle, on a note of rising panic. "How are we going to get him back?"

"You let me worry about that," Xena said. "I'm going to talk to Demetri at midday, and I'll find out what conditions he's offering. And don't forget that we have two of his men. Maybe we can work out some kind of prisoner exchange."

Gabrielle didn't answer, and Xena saw that she was crying again. Picking up the splints, she applied them to the broken arm and began to bind them in place.

"I've done the best I can setting these bones," Xena said, "but it's a tricky break, and I'm not sure how well it will heal. Your wrist may end up being kind of stiff."

"I don't care about that. I just want to get my son back alive."

"I know. I want that, too," Xena said. She continued to wrap the splint for a few moments in silence, and then asked, "Did they find out about the herbs?"

"Who?"

"Demetri and his thugs."

"Oh, well, no, I don't think so," Gabrielle said slowly. "Lyceus told them some crazy story about how we came to their camp to steal weapons, but we got lost in the dark and ended up in the supply tent."

"And they believed that?" Xena asked in surprise.

"I don't know if they believed it or not, but I don't remember anyone saying anything about herbs."

"Did you get the thing with the herbs done before they caught you?"

"Yes, we had just finished, and then we heard them coming, so I buried the bags and funnels."

"Gabrielle, that's wonderful!" Xena exclaimed. "That means the original mission actually succeeded. Why didn't you tell me so?"

"Because we didn't succeed. We got caught."

"Yes, you got caught," Xena agreed, "but if Demetri's men don't know about the herbs, they're going to eat them, and they'll soon start getting sick. And that means we have a chance to defeat them, after all."

Gabrielle nodded vaguely and then said, "So does that mean you can go get Lyceus now?"

Xena stared at her for a moment, then laid a hand on her forehead and found it hot. "No, Gabrielle, I can't get Lyceus right now, but I'll try to see him when I negotiate with Demetri at midday."

"At midday? What time is it now?"

"About an hour past sunrise," Xena told her, "and you need to take the rest of that opium so you can get some sleep." She got up and went around the bed to get the mug. "Here it is," she said then. "Can you prop yourself up so you can drink it?"

"I can't feel my arm," Gabrielle said.

"I know. I haven't released the pressure points yet," Xena said. "It's going to hurt when I do that, so I thought it was better to have the opium first."

Xena put an arm around the younger woman to help support her, then offered the mug. When Gabrielle had finished drinking, the healer gently released the pressure points, and held her lover's hand until the pain began to subside.

"Can I go with you?" Gabrielle asked drowsily.

"Go with me where?"

"To get Lyceus."

"No, love. You're hurt and you need to rest. I'll take care of Lyceus, I promise."

"He might need a cloak," Gabrielle mumbled, "if it gets cold." After that, there was only the gradual deepening of her breathing. Xena watched in silence for a few minutes, then bent to kiss one of the lash marks on her lover's shoulder.

The sound of the door opening made her sit up again, and she listened to Cyrelle's footsteps as they crossed to the sleeping-room doorway.

Pushing aside the curtain, the girl peered in.

"Did you get everything taken care of?" Xena asked in a low voice.

"Yeah. I sent word about Gabrielle and Lyceus to all the guard posts, and put Maphias in command, like you said to do."

"Good. Did you talk to Acantha?"

"Uh-huh. She said she'd be glad to stay with Gabrielle while you go to Demetri's camp."

Xena nodded. "Thanks," she said.

Cyrelle tiptoed over to the bed and stood looking down at Gabrielle. "How's she doing?" she asked in a whisper.

"She'll be all right, I think," Xena replied. "She just now fell asleep."

"Did she tell you what happened?"

"She tried to, but she was in pain, and she seemed confused, so some of what she said didn't make much sense." Xena paused and then added, "Mostly, all she could think about was getting Lyceus rescued."

Cyrelle nodded as she bent down to take a closer look at Gabrielle's back. "Zeus, that looks like it must have really hurt," she said.

"Yes, I'm sure it did," Xena said, then spread a light linen cover over the bard. "And the worst part is that they made Lyceus watch her being flogged."

"Why would they do that?"

"To get information from him."

The girl frowned. "But why didn't they just flog him, too?" she asked.

"Because sometimes it's more painful to watch someone else suffer than it is to suffer yourself," Xena said quietly. She studied Cyrelle's face for a moment, wondering if a daughter of Ares could really understand this principle of human love.

"Oh," Cyrelle said in a noncommittal tone. "So do you think Lyceus told them all about our defense plans and everything?"

"I don't know exactly how much he told them," Xena admitted. "But here's the good news," she added, taking hold of Cyrelle's arm. "Apparently, Lyceus told some story about how he and Gabrielle were trying to steal weapons, but ended up in the supply tent by mistake. So Demetri doesn't know about the herbs."

"You mean Lyceus and Gabrielle put the herbs in the wineskins before they got caught?"

"Yes!"

Cyrelle's face lit up. "So that means they'll all get sick--"

"And we can attack them," Xena finished for her.

"Wow! That's fantastic!" the girl exclaimed. "When can we go? When can we attack?"

"Shh! Keep it down!" Xena hissed as Gabrielle moaned and stirred in her sleep.

Cyrelle clapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry!" she whispered.

The two of them looked at Gabrielle, who murmured something incoherent and then relaxed into sleep again.

Xena turned back to Cyrelle. "I'll know more after I meet with Demetri," she said softly, "and then we can make our plans."

"Can I go with you to see Demetri?"

"No. He said for me to come alone," Xena responded. "But first, what I'd really like to do is get a few hours of sleep. And I recommend you do the same," she went on. "We've both been up all night and we're probably much too tired to be planning military strategy."

"I don't know if I can sleep," Cyrelle said. "I think I'm too excited now."

"Well, try, anyway," Xena said, and then she smiled. "That's an order, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am, O Great Commander!" Cyrelle said, snapping to attention. Then she laughed and said, "Happy dreams!" and hurried out through the curtained doorway.

Xena sat for a moment, listening to the small sounds of her daughter moving around in the other room. Then she bent to unlace her boots and pull them off. Stretching out on the bed, she lay facing Gabrielle, watching her sleep for several moments before she reached out to caress her lover's face with gentle fingers. The skin seemed cooler now, and the expression on the bard's face more peaceful. "I love you, Gabrielle," Xena whispered. Then she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

CHAPTER 19

"So this is Xena, the Warrior Cripple," mused Demetri as he walked in a slow circle around her, raking her with his eyes. "I guess I can see why my father might have found you attractive -- in your younger days," he concluded.

She stood without moving, regarding him with a cool gaze. He had kept her waiting for almost an hour there inside the dim, stuffy tent, her only companion a mean-faced, taciturn guard who watched her every move and did not offer to let her sit down. But she was determined not to let her anger interfere with these negotiations. There was too much at stake here, including the life of Lyceus and the fate of Amphipolis.

Demetri stopped in front of her and folded his arms across his chest.

"You really do look like Draco," Xena commented. "I'm surprised. I thought maybe you were some pretender, posing as his son."

"Oh no," he said, laughing. "I am most definitely Draco's son, and I have inherited all his best fighting skills. There are even some who say I inherited his good looks, but I'll let you be the judge of that." He flashed her a smile, then turned and walked a few paces to his command table, and hopped up to sit on it.

"Your father was a handsome man," Xena admitted, "and a skilled warrior, too, but I think what I admired most about him was his sense of honor. That is what I would hope any son of his would have inherited."

"Sense of honor!" Demetri scoffed. "That's rather an old-fashioned notion, isn't it?"

"Perhaps, but I think you'll find--"

He stopped her with a wave of his hand. "I'm afraid I don't have time to listen to lectures from an old, has-been warrior," he said. "We're here to negotiate, so let's get down to business, shall we?"

"All right," Xena said. She shifted more of her weight to her left foot, in an effort to ease the discomfort of the crutch pressing against her underarm. Demetri's two lieutenants had come into the tent with him, and although neither one had spoken yet, they appeared to be taking great interest in the proceedings. The taller one she assumed must be Altair, the brute who had broken Gabrielle's arm. And the short, sullen one, who looked like he didn't do a whole lot of thinking -- that was probably Titos. Meanwhile, behind her, the unsociable guard still lurked, sword in hand, as if he expected her to bolt out of the tent at any moment.

"This whole thing is really quite simple," Demetri began. "I have your nephew, and I believe you'd like to get him back alive."

"Oh, so you know that Lyceus is my nephew," Xena said.

"Yes. The boy gave us quite a bit of useful information while his mother was being flogged," returned Demetri.

"I see. And what must I do to get him back?"

"Just surrender Amphipolis to me," Demetri said. "It's as easy as that."

Xena regarded him in silence for a moment, and then, hearing an odd sound from Titos, shifted her gaze to him. She noted, with some interest, that the lieutenant was perspiring heavily and holding one hand over his stomach, even while he struggled to keep his face expressionless.

"You'll have to forgive me," she said, looking again at Demetri, "but I seem to have forgotten what terms of surrender you were offering."

He gave her a condescending smile. "Well," he said, "as the messenger I first sent to you must have explained, I am prepared to be quite lenient. Usually, when I conquer a town, I burn it to the ground, kill all the male inhabitants, and sell the women and children as slaves. But Amphipolis is a prosperous city, in a strategic location, so I am willing to spare it, if you will just agree to furnish supplies for my army whenever we come through this region. Oh, and I want forty percent of the profits from your gold and timber trade."

"Yes, now it all comes back to me," Xena said, nodding. "But I was thinking it was only thirty percent before. Now it's forty."

Demetri laughed. "You remember more than you claim to, Xena," he said. Then he stood up and walked over to stand face-to-face with her. "The fact is," he went on, "I raised the percentage because my bargaining position has improved, now that I have your little nephew in my possession."

"Uh-huh," she said, "but I think you're forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

"We have two of your men in our possession."

He shrugged and turned away. "I don't care about that," he said.

"You don't care?" Xena said in surprise. "I could just order your men executed, and you wouldn't care?"

"That's right," he said, facing her once more and grinning. "I cannot let myself be so vulnerable as to care personally about every soldier in my army," he explained. "When the men join up, they are made to understand that I can never sacrifice the safety of the entire group for a few fools who are stupid enough to get themselves captured."

"So anyone taken prisoner by the enemy is expendable," Xena said.

"Exactly."

"And what if I had captured fifteen of your men, or twenty?"

"That simply wouldn't happen," he said confidently. "Most of my troops are too well trained to let themselves be captured by amateur fighters like yours. You see, Xena, where you're making your big mistake--"

He stopped as Titos gave a sudden loud groan and bent over, clutching his gut. "Is there a problem?" Demetri demanded impatiently.

Titos attempted to straighten up. "I don't know," he gasped. "My stomach--" Then he groaned again, threw a frantic look in Demetri's direction, and scurried out of the tent.

"What is going on?" Demetri asked Altair. "Is he sick?"

"Sir, I'm not sure, but--" Altair began, and then, glancing at Xena, he moved closer to Demetri and finished by speaking quietly into the commander's ear.

Xena strained to hear what he was saying, but could only catch what sounded like "several men," and "maybe some spoiled meat."

Demetri nodded, and then turned back to Xena. "What was I saying?" he asked. Then, apparently remembering, he said, "Oh, I was just going to tell you what a fool you are for sending people you care about on dangerous missions. First it was your brother, and now it's your nephew and your little lover bitch. Of all the stupid things to do!" he exclaimed.

She looked at him without answering, while she fought to suppress the wave of rage and guilt that rose within her.

"I'm surprised you didn't send your daughter along, as well," Demetri went on. "In fact, I'm downright disappointed you didn't. We could have had a really good time with a pretty young girl like that. She is pretty, isn't she?"

"What do you know about my daughter?" Xena asked coldly.

"Let's see. We know that she's your lieutenant, and a warrior wannabe with some fighting skills," Demetri said. "And she's got some weird name like Cypress, or Cyclops, or-- What is it, exactly?"

"Cyrelle."

"Yeah, that's it. Cyrelle. Anyway, I hope you'll send her on over to our camp sometime so we can meet her."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get to meet her -- eventually," Xena said. "And you might not find the experience to be as much fun as you expect it to be."

"Really? Why not?" asked Demetri.

"Well, because Cyrelle is--" She had been about to say "Ares' daughter," but she stopped herself. Perhaps that information was best kept secret, assuming Lyceus had not already revealed it, as it appeared he had not. "Cyrelle is determined to avenge the murder of her Uncle Toris, for one thing," Xena finished.

Demetri laughed, and so did Altair.

"Ooh, we're scared now!" exclaimed the lieutenant. And both men laughed again.

"Anyway," Demetri said, wiping his eyes, "it's been quite a pleasure to meet you, Xena, and to meet your loved ones, too." He began to chuckle again, then composed himself. "I suppose we need to wrap up our business, though, so you can get home to what's left of your pathetic little family. In fact," he went on, "if you want to surrender right here and now, maybe you can even take your nephew home with you."

"I don't have the authority to surrender Amphipolis," Xena told him. "I answer to the town council, so I will have to take your proposal to them."

He seemed surprised. "Oh," he said. "Well, I guess we can allow time for you to do that. But you'll be forced to surrender, in the end -- unless you want to see the boy's head chopped off."

"Yes, you have a good point," Xena said, in a voice that she hoped sounded conciliatory. Then she added, "But the council members may not agree that all of Amphipolis should be sacrificed to save the life of one boy -- even if he is my nephew."

"I think you can convince them," Demetri said. "I'll expect your answer by sundown."

Xena shook her head. "That won't be enough time," she said. "You don't know these men. They can discuss the pros and cons of every little question for hours. It may take me awhile to get them to see things my way."

Demetri frowned and seemed about to speak, but she rushed on.

"Besides," she said, "if we surrender at sundown, you will have to do a victory march through town in the dark. Why don't you give me until sunrise tomorrow morning? I'm sure I can have the matter settled by then, and you can take possession of Amphipolis in full daylight."

"All right," he said. "I'll give you until sunrise tomorrow."

"Good," she said. "And now there's one other thing."

"What?"

"Well, how do I know you haven't killed Lyceus already, because if you have--"

"No, we haven't killed him. The boy is fine."

"I want to see him."

Demetri hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," he said. "Altair will take you to him, and afterwards he'll escort you back to the bridge."

"Thank you," Xena said.

"And I'll expect your message of surrender at sunrise," Demetri added.

"Oh, yes," Xena said, "you will definitely be hearing from me."

* * * * *

Altair led her toward a tent near the center of the camp. From the diagrams drawn by their prisoners the previous night, Xena knew this must be the supply tent. She was surprised that Demetri took such a casual attitude about her seeing the layout of his camp, and she hoped this was another sign that he would scarcely expect her forces to attack rather than surrender. Using her lameness as an excuse to walk slowly, she scanned her surroundings surreptitiously, trying to learn as much as she could.

They did not enter the supply tent, but walked around behind it, where a post had been set in the ground. Sitting in the dirt with his back against the post, and his hands chained behind it, was Lyceus. He looked up as they approached, and a smile lit his face.

"Xena!" he exclaimed.

He was dirty, and Xena could see a bruise across one cheekbone, but otherwise, he looked fine. She smiled back at him and was about to speak when Altair suddenly pushed past her.

"Where's your guard?" he demanded, glaring down at Lyceus.

"Oh, Makar?" the boy said in a mild tone. "Well, he was sitting right here a few minutes ago, but he wasn't feeling so great -- said he had a tummy ache or something. So I started telling him a story about Echidna, the Mother of all Monsters, but then all at once he jumped up and ran off. That way," Lyceus added, gesturing with his head toward what appeared to be a makeshift latrine at the north end of the camp.

Altair frowned and stared in that direction.

Xena meanwhile caught Lyceus' eye and winked at him. The herbs were working -- there could be no doubt about that. And she was hoping that by sunrise even more of Demetri's men would be affected. She started to move toward Lyceus, but Altair put out his hand to stop her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I want to talk to my nephew," she said.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Altair asked, looking her up and down. "Any daggers hidden away in your boots or maybe . . ." He stepped closer and reached for her breasts.

"No!" she said, slapping his hand away. "I was told to come unarmed, and I did," she asserted.

"All right," he said with a reluctant nod toward Lyceus. "You can talk to him, but don't take too long. And no tricks!"

Altair followed her as she walked over to where the boy was chained, then lowered herself to kneel beside him. From this vantage point, she could see how tired and scared he looked, and she reached out to brush the hair back from his face.

"How's Mother?" he asked.

"She'll be fine," Xena said. "I put ointment on her back and set her arm, and then I gave her some opium to help her sleep. She was really worried about you, though. We all were."

"I'm okay," he said, "but I want to go home. Can you take me back with you?"

"No, not right now, Sweetheart," she said softly. "I wish I could."

"What does Demetri want in exchange for my release?"

"The surrender of Amphipolis."

The boy swallowed hard and his face turned pale. "You can't give in to him, Xena," he said in a voice that trembled slightly. "You can't surrender, no matter what. My father died for Amphipolis, and so did my Uncle Lyceus, and I'm prepared to do the same -- if necessary."

"No, Lyceus, it's not necessary. You're not some kind of sacrificial goat," Xena said.

"But if it's for the greater good, I'm not afraid to die," he insisted. "I don't want you to surrender the whole town just to save me."

"It won't come to that," she said firmly. She wished she could say more, but Altair was hovering over her, listening to their every word. "I just need you to be brave a few more hours," she told Lyceus. "Demetri wants my answer at sunrise, and I told him he would have it."

Lyceus nodded, and a more hopeful look came into his eyes. "I haven't eaten much since I've been here," he said. "They offered me some bread and porridge, but I wasn't hungry, so Makar ate it instead." His eyes darted quickly toward the latrine and then back to her face.

She nodded to let him know she understood. "I can see why you wouldn't be hungry," she said, "but I hope they've been giving you some water, at least."

"Yeah, Makar gave me some. He's kind of a nice guy, actually."

"Okay, that's enough time," Altair said, giving Xena a sharp nudge with his foot. "I need to get you out of the camp, and then find a new guard for the boy."

"Give Mother my love," Lyceus said quickly, "and Cyrelle, and I love you, too, Xena."

"Yes, and we all love you," she said, bending forward to give him a kiss on the forehead, "very much. Have faith," she added. "Everything is going to be fine." She used her crutch to pull herself up, and then stood looking down at him, wishing suddenly that she could just knock Altair flat, break Lyceus' chains, and escape from camp with him. In her younger days, that's what she might have done, but now-- Well, she couldn't even run anymore. She gave Lyceus one last smile, and then, with a sigh, turned to let Altair escort her back to the bridge.

* * * * *

It took less than ten minutes for Xena to convince the town council, plus a few handpicked fighters she had invited to the meeting, that an attack on Demetri was the best course of action. The rest of the discussion centered on how the attack would be organized and carried out. The group had been making plans for about an hour when a young messenger burst into the gymnasium room where they were assembled.

"Xena!" he panted. "It's Lyceus! They tied him out there -- to some stakes -- and he's all naked and -- well, you've got to come and see!"

A shiver of fear shot through her as she stood up and turned to face him. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Slow down and start from the beginning."

"Uh, okay, well, a few of Demetri's men -- they brought Lyceus out and they tied him to some stakes, just this side of the bridge," the messenger reported. "Stakes like this, in the shape of the letter 'chi,'" he went on, demonstrating with his crossed fingers.

"Do you mean they've crucified him?" demanded Cyrelle. She was also on her feet, and now she started moving around the table, toward the messenger.

He took a step back. "No, not crucified, exactly," he said, "just--"

"I'll come and take a look," Xena interrupted. "The rest of you keep talking about our strategy." She picked up her crutch and stuck it under her arm. "Cyrelle, you're in charge until I get back."

"No, I'm coming with you," the girl countered. "I have to see what they've done to Lyceus."

Xena hesitated, then nodded. "All right. Maphias, you keep the discussion on track while we're gone. It shouldn't take us very long."

"Sure thing, Xena," Maphias said. "We'll have those battle plans all laid out by the time you return." He grinned, but she could see the worry in his eyes.

"We'll be back soon," she repeated as she left the room.

Cyrelle and the messenger boy ran ahead, and Xena followed as quickly as she could. The afternoon sun was hot, and she was sweating by the time she reached the gate. She wondered if she would have to climb up to the walkway again, but when she looked out through the slit, she found the view more than adequate.

Lyceus had been stripped of his clothes and tied spread-eagle to a structure of crossed stakes out on the road, some 150 paces away. And even though Xena was prepared for the sight, she still slammed her hand against the gate and let loose a string of profanity.

Cyrelle jumped down from the walkway and hurried up behind her. "What are we going to do?" she asked. "We've got to go rescue him!"

"We can't," Xena said grimly. "There's no way we can launch an attack in broad daylight and hope to succeed."

"But he'll die out there!"

"No, he won't die -- or at least I don't think so -- but he'll definitely suffer."

"From thirst?" Cyrelle asked.

"Yes, and from sunburn."

"And the bugs'll bite him, too," the messenger boy added.

"Yes, they will," Xena said with a sigh. "But it's only a few hours until sundown, so if he can just hold out until then . . ."

"Xena, why would Demetri do such a thing?" asked Cyrelle. "Does he just get a thrill out of hurting people?"

"It looks that way. He's even more of a scum-sucking bastard than I thought he was. But I guess he's trying to make a point about what he will do to Lyceus if we don't surrender."

"Well, we can play that game, too!" Cyrelle exclaimed. "Why don't we just tie his two men out here in front of the gates like he's done to Lyceus?"

Xena considered this idea for a moment and then shook her head. "I don't think it would do any good," she said. "Demetri already told me he doesn't care what happens to his men, so we would just be torturing them needlessly. Besides, I hate to stoop to his level of barbarity -- not if we can help it."

"But it's war, isn't it?" Cyrelle asked. "War is full of barbarity."

"Yes, it is," Xena admitted, "and that's why war is best avoided, whenever possible."

"But Ares says--"

"Trust me, Cyrelle. I know everything Ares has to say about war," Xena cut in, "and most of it is total bullshit. I hope you'll come to recognize that someday."

The girl rolled her eyes and gave a frustrated sigh.

"We need to get back to the meeting," Xena said, and turned to go.

One of the lookouts leaned over the walkway railing and called, "What should we do about Lyceus?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do right now," Xena called back. "Just keep watching, and let me know if there's any change in the situation." Then she started down the street toward the gymnasium.

Cyrelle ran to catch up with her and then slowed her pace to match Xena's. For a few minutes, they walked in silence, and then the girl asked, "What do you think of Demetri's army? Would you say it's a good one?"

"Yes, it appears to be pretty good," the warrior responded, "at least, from what I've seen. His men are skilled fighters who seem willing to follow orders without question. And I imagine Demetri rewards them well from the spoils of battle -- which would make it easier to commit the kinds of atrocities they commit without feeling much guilt."

"So you think they could win a lot of battles?"

"Well, Demetri has already won a lot of battles -- if you can call attacking a defenseless village a 'battle.' He might have more trouble fighting a trained army."

"But would he at least have a chance of winning?"

"Oh, sure. He might actually have a very good chance." She stopped walking and put a hand on Cyrelle's shoulder, forcing the girl to turn and face her. "Why all these questions?" she asked.

Cyrelle shrugged. "No reason. I'm just trying to learn," she said. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she went on, "And, well, Ares told me some things about Demetri's army, and I just wanted to see if you agree."

"What did Ares tell you?"

"Nothing much. Just that he thinks Demetri's troops are pretty good, but that we can definitely beat them."

"And what makes him so sure about that?"

"Well, it's just because--" Cyrelle stopped and glanced around as if she feared some enemy spy might be listening. "It's because Ares helped Demetri out, originally. Like, he helped him build his army and stuff, after Draco died. So Demetri thinks Ares is on his side, but he's not anymore -- now he's on our side. But Demetri doesn't know that, because he doesn't know I'm Ares' daughter, right?"

"No. At least he doesn't seem to know."

"Yeah, so Ares has been kind of stringing Demetri along, letting him get all overconfident, and that's how we're going to beat him, because he won't expect us to attack."

Xena nodded. "That would make sense," she said slowly. "I mean, Demetri definitely seemed overconfident to me -- almost to the point of carelessness. And if Ares is involved, like you say, that would help explain it."

"Sure it would," Cyrelle agreed. "And doesn't it make you feel better, knowing we're going to win the battle?"

"I never consider any battle won for sure until it's over," Xena said. "But it is nice to know that Ares is actually doing something to help instead of just sitting around on his butt."

"Yeah, see? He's not such a bad guy, after all."

"Well, I wouldn't go quite that far," Xena said with a grin. Then she started walking again. "Come on, we need to finish planning our strategy. If we get done soon, maybe we can even catch a few hours' sleep before time to carry it out."

CHAPTER 20

Xena woke to the soft touch of Gabrielle's hand on her hair, and opened her eyes. It was dark in the sleeping room, but she could just make out the shape of the younger woman sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her. "Did the messenger come?" the warrior murmured. "Is it time for me to get up?"

"No, no, go back to sleep," Gabrielle whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to touch you."

Xena caught hold of her lover's hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss. "You must be feeling better," she said. "You're sitting up."

"Yeah, I feel a little better," Gabrielle said, "but mostly I was getting a stiff neck from lying on my stomach."

"I remember when you used to sleep on your stomach all the time."

"So do I, but I was younger then, and a lot more flexible."

Xena laughed and kissed Gabrielle's hand again. "How's the pain?" she asked.

"Not too bad, at the moment. Acantha left me some willow bark tea here by the bed. I can drink that, if I need it." She gave Xena's cheek a gentle caress and then said, "But don't be worrying about me. You need to go back to sleep."

"Yeah, but I don't think I can," the warrior admitted. "I'm finding it pretty hard to relax tonight." She was silent for a moment, and then added, "I wish I could hold you."

"I wish you could, too, but I'm afraid it would hurt too much." Gabrielle sighed a little, then said, "You can put your head in my lap, if you want."

Xena accepted the invitation without hesitation, curling up on her side with her head on Gabrielle's thigh.

"Do you think the attack will go well?" Gabrielle asked as she gently rubbed Xena's shoulder.

"I hope so, but something could always go wrong."

"What's the plan?"

"We've got five platoons of seven or eight people each, who will leave by way of the different gates," Xena said. "Hopefully, they'll be able to deal with any guards they run into, then cross the river at various places and get into their assigned positions."

"What's Cyrelle doing?"

"She's leading the main group, and she'll have some of our best fighters with her. They'll go out the front gate and cross the bridge directly into the camp."

"So they'll be the ones spearheading the attack."

"Yes, which is why they'll be the last group deployed. We have to give the others time to surround the camp before the attack begins."

Gabrielle was silent for a moment, and then asked, "What about you? What will you be doing?"

"I'll tag along with Cyrelle's group at first, but then my mission will be to find Lyceus and get him safely back to Amphipolis."

"You don't think they've hurt him, do you?" asked Gabrielle in an urgent tone.

"Well," Xena said carefully, "he was definitely okay when I saw him in the camp." She had not told Gabrielle what happened to Lyceus during the afternoon, since her lover's emotional state had seemed so fragile. The image of the boy staked out there in the hot sun had been difficult enough for Xena herself to deal with. It seemed better for Gabrielle not to know until Lyceus was safely back home again.

"Didn't you tell me that they had him chained to a post?" Gabrielle asked. "I was so out of it when you came back from Demetri's camp that I'm not sure what you said. And I didn't hear you come to bed at all. I just woke up, and you were there."

"Yeah, well, Lyceus was sitting with his back to a post, and his hands chained behind it," Xena said. "And the first thing he did was ask how you were. Then when I was leaving, he said to give you his love."

Gabrielle gave a soft sigh, but did not speak.

"Of course, I told him we love him, too," Xena went on, "and that he just had to be brave until sunrise. I think he understood that we were coming to get him then."

"I wish I could go with you to fight Demetri," Gabrielle said. "I feel so useless, just sitting here with a broken arm."

Xena looked up, wishing she could see the younger woman's face in the darkness. "You are not useless, Gabrielle," she whispered fiercely. "You and Lyceus got the herbs into Demetri's food supply. If you hadn't done that, there's no way we could even think about making this attack."

"So Demetri's men are really getting sick?"

"Yes. Titos doubled over with stomach cramps while I was standing there negotiating, and Lyceus said his guard was sick, too. And I hope that by now there are plenty of others."

"What happens when they get sick? They just get diarrhea?"

"Yes, and they'll feel very weak," Xena said, "and sleepy, too -- at least in some cases. If you remember, I consulted with Petros about which herbs to use, and then we made the mixtures from what we had on hand, so not every batch was exactly the same."

"I wish I could have seen Titos get sick," Gabrielle said. "I think I really would have enjoyed that."

"Yeah, I found it pretty enjoyable myself," Xena said with a smile. She took hold of Gabrielle's hand, and tucked it against her chest. Then, sighing a little, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. The warmth of her lover's body was comforting, but she couldn't quite get the picture of Lyceus out of her mind.

It didn't really matter, though, because the silence was soon broken by an urgent knocking, followed by the sound of the front door opening.

"Xena! Cyrelle!" called a man's voice. "It's time!"

"Thanks! We'll be there in a few minutes," Cyrelle responded from her cot, and the messenger closed the door. "Xena, are you awake?" called the girl.

"Yeah, I'm awake," the warrior said. Then she slipped out from under Gabrielle's arm and sat up. It was still too dark to see her companion, but leaning close to the younger woman, she took her face in both hands and kissed her. "Cyrelle never calls me 'mother' anymore," she murmured in Gabrielle's ear. "Why do you think that is?"

"Maybe it's because you're her commander now, and not just her mother."

"Yeah, maybe, but in the privacy of our own home, it just seems like--"

"Hey," Gabrielle said softly. "You've got a big battle to worry about fighting. Does it really matter what Cyrelle calls you?"

"No, I guess not," Xena said, wondering why this issue suddenly seemed so important to her. With a sigh, she moved to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over. Through the fabric of the curtain, she could see lamplight in the other room, and now it seemed to be coming closer.

Cyrelle pushed the curtain aside and stood peering in, holding a lamp in one hand. "Aren't you even out of bed yet?" she demanded.

Xena stood up. "Sure I am," she said with a grin.

But Cyrelle merely frowned.

"How did you get ready so fast?" asked Xena. "Did you sleep in your clothes?"

"Yeah, some of them," the girl admitted. She was dressed in a leather garment much like the one her mother had once worn. The lamplight glinted off the polished breastplate and the hilt of the sword she wore on her back.

"You look like a real warrior," Gabrielle said.

"That's because I am a real warrior," Cyrelle responded impatiently.

"Yes, of course," Gabrielle amended. "That's exactly what I meant."

Cyrelle turned to Xena. "I'm going to go on, okay?"

"Sure. Get everyone organized into their platoons, and have the leaders brief their groups. I'll be there shortly."

The girl nodded and let the curtain fall back over the doorway.

Xena quickly stripped off her nightshift and pulled on the trousers and tunic she usually wore.

"I thought you were going to wear your old armor," Gabrielle said, "from your warrior days."

"I decided not to," Xena said, wondering how her lover could even see well enough in the dark room to know what she was putting on. "The leather was all old and dried out," she went on, "and the whole thing just seemed more -- revealing -- than what I'm used to wearing now."

"Meaning people would be able to see your leg?"

"Yeah," Xena admitted. "I guess that's what it amounts to." She paused for a moment and then went on, "I've got a leather cuirass I'm going to wear, and I don't expect to be in the thick of the fighting, anyway. That's Cyrelle's job." Then she took her crutch down from where it hung on the wall, and slipped it under her arm. "I'll be back in a second to say goodbye," she said, then moved into the other room.

Cyrelle had left the lamp burning on the table, and Xena blinked a little in the light. She put on her armor, then slung her sword across her back, and hooked her chakram at her left side, where she could reach it easily without putting down her crutch. Crossing to the table, she opened a small pack that she had filled before going to bed.

"What's in the bag?" asked Gabrielle.

Surprised, Xena looked over her shoulder and saw the younger woman standing near the door of the sleeping room, a linen sheet draped loosely around her shoulders. "You shouldn't be up, Sweetheart," she said.

"I'll go back to bed as soon as you leave," Gabrielle promised. She started toward Xena, walking carefully, as if she were afraid of jarring the wounds on her back or the splinted right arm that she supported with her left hand.

"Do you want me to send Acantha over again?"

"No, I'll be fine," the younger woman said. She stopped beside Xena and nodded toward the table. "What's in the bag?" she repeated.

"Oh. This is just some stuff I thought Lyceus might need -- clean clothes, water, a little bread and cheese." She held the pack open so that Gabrielle could see. "And then I'm taking some bandages and ointment to use for anyone who gets wounded."

The younger woman nodded. "Will you bring Lyceus back here yourself?" she asked.

"I will if I can. Otherwise, I'll send him with someone else." She closed up the pack and hung it over her shoulder. It would likely take two people to carry the boy back to town, but right now she did not want to think about what condition she might find him in. Maybe she should warn Gabrielle, give her some idea what to expect, just in case . . . But when she looked at the bard, she knew she couldn't destroy the hopefulness that shone in those green eyes. So instead of talking about Lyceus, she said, "If you're going to be up walking around, you need to keep that arm in a sling."

"I know. I'll rig something up," Gabrielle said.

Xena nodded and glanced around to make sure she had everything she needed.

"When does the attack on the camp begin?" the younger woman asked. "At first light?"

"Yes."

"I'll be thinking about you," Gabrielle said, moving closer and touching the warrior's cheek softly. "Be careful."

"I will be," Xena responded. She slid one hand into her lover's blonde hair and pulled her close for a kiss.

"I love you," Gabrielle whispered.

"Not as much as I love you," Xena said with a soft smile.

"Don't be too sure about that," the bard returned.

Xena kissed her again, then said, "I need to get going, and you need to get back to bed."

"Okay. Good luck."

"Thanks," the warrior said. Then, picking up her crutch, she crossed to the door, and without looking back, stepped out into the street.

* * * * *

There was a large crowd gathered in the central marketplace by the time Xena got there. Roused from their beds by messengers, the townspeople milled around in the flickering torchlight, talking in tones of muffled excitement. Those who would take part in the actual attack huddled with their platoons, listening to last-minute instructions from their leaders. The others -- the non-combatants -- were the women, old men, and children who had volunteered to serve as lookouts, gatekeepers, messengers, guards for the prisoners, or nurses for the wounded.

As Xena approached, a path opened for her. People offered smiles and words of encouragement, or asked questions about Gabrielle and Lyceus. The warrior greeted as many as she could without stopping, and when she reached the center of the square, someone turned a wooden crate upside down to serve as a platform. Mounting this, she stood for a several moments surveying her army. Then she thumped her crutch on the crate, and gestured for everyone to move closer. There was a shuffling of feet, followed by a few last whispers, and then an expectant hush fell over the gathering.

"Defenders of Amphipolis," Xena called out, "I salute you . . . and I thank you. Tonight all your courage and dedication, plus your long hours of training, are about to pay off. Everyone here is vital to our efforts -- no matter what job you will be doing -- because it's going to take all of us, working together, to defeat Demetri."

A few people began to applaud and cheer, but Xena shouted "Quiet!" and the commotion quickly died down.

"I wish I could let you make noise," she told them, "but we have to be careful. Even though we're fairly safe here in the center of town, we can't risk having anyone outside the walls hear us. They might think we're up to something."

Her listeners grinned and chuckled softly.

"We can make lots of noise at the victory celebration," someone called out, and there was a general murmur of agreement.

Xena nodded, and then waited until the crowd fell silent again. "You all should have your assignments by now," she said. "Platoon leaders, make sure everyone in knows which gate to leave by, where to cross the river, and what position to take outside Demetri's camp. That way if people get separated, they should be able to find their group again."

She stopped to take a deep breath, and then went on addressing herself to the platoons and their leaders. "If possible," she said, "I'd like you to take prisoners, rather than killing the enemy soldiers. This is particularly important," she continued, now looking directly at Cyrelle, "in the case of Demetri himself, and his lieutenants, Altair and Titos. I would really like to see those three brought to justice."

Cyrelle returned Xena's gaze coolly, without showing any reaction to this directive other than a slight tightening of her jaw.

The warrior looked out over the rest of the crowd, and continued, "But use your best judgment. The main thing is your own safety, so if it's too difficult to take prisoners, then do whatever works."

"I heard that Demetri's men are all sick," a woman shouted.

"Yes, there's a good possibility that at least some of them are sick," Xena responded. "Gabrielle and Lyceus managed to put an herb mixture in Demetri's wine and grain supply before getting caught, and I saw evidence of illness in the camp when I went there to negotiate."

"Yeah, they've all got the shits!" yelled one of the platoon leaders.

Laughter ran through the crowd, and someone cried, "Well, that's exactly what those sons of bitches deserve -- and worse!"

Xena pounded her crutch on the crate to quiet the hubbub that followed this remark, and when it had died down, she said, "You can definitely expect to find some of Demetri's men sick with diarrhea. You may also find them feeling weak and drowsy." She paused for a moment, and then raised her voice to warn, "Just don't make the mistake of thinking every soldier is sick. Some of them may be quite healthy -- and very dangerous to deal with. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Xena," her listeners responded.

"Tell them not to drink the wine," Maphias called to her.

She laughed, then said, "Maphias has a good point. Don't drink any wine in Demetri's camp, or eat any bread or meal -- unless you like spending time in the latrine!"

There was more laughter and a renewed buzz of conversation. Xena looked at Maphias and Cyrelle. "Is there anything else I need to say?" she asked.

"Tell them I'm in charge of the attack," Cyrelle responded.

Xena nodded. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Can't think of anything," Maphias said.

The warrior signaled for silence again, and then said, "Remember that Cyrelle will be leading the attack, and you are to follow her orders. I may be there part of the time, but I will mostly be concerned with rescuing Lyceus."

"What a brave boy!" a woman called out. "I hope he's all right."

"Yes, I hope so, too," Xena said. Then she turned to Cyrelle. "Do you want to say anything?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," the girl replied.

Xena stepped down off the crate, and Cyrelle hopped up to take her place.

"I know we can win this battle," the girl shouted, "because I know you hate Demetri just as much as I do!"

There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.

"That bastard has us trapped like rats, right here in our own town, and we won't take it anymore!" Cyrelle continued. "So let's just kick his ass from here to Tartarus! We'll make him regret the day he ever heard of Amphipolis!"

Several people started to cheer, but were quickly shushed. The excitement could not be contained, though. It broke out in a rattling of swords, a stamping of feet, and a waving of fists in the air.

"And remember this," Cyrelle added, raising her voice, "my father, Ares, is on our side! The god of war himself is backing us, so there's no way we can lose!"

The muffled roar surged from the crowd again, but suddenly Xena was aware only of her daughter's eyes, glowing with the fervor of battle lust. An icy thrill of fear ran down the warrior's spine. Was this the look that had so disturbed Gabrielle the night of the town meeting? Well, no wonder, for in Cyrelle, Xena was now certain she saw her own dark side personified.

Without meaning to, she shuddered violently. But then, as quickly as the feeling had come, it vanished, and Xena found herself staring, not at some monster, but at a young woman facing her first battle with an innocent mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

It took a moment for Xena to realize that Cyrelle was speaking to her. "Can I let them go," the girl asked, "or did you want to say something else?"

"Let them go," Xena said in a dull tone.

"Okay, let's get out there and fight!" cried the girl, as she brandished her sword over her head. "For Amphipolis!"

"For Amphipolis!" responded the crowd in a muted cheer. And then they began to disperse.

Continued

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