Destiny’s Dominion

Chapter Thirty: Ships and Queens
They had spent two days in the cell in Massilia. Gabrielle gained in strength and equanimity as the presence of her two friends helped to drive away the doubts and fears that had beset her since her total separation from Xena. She needed people she knew, and loved, around her. She was, after all a 'people' person as she continually reminded Xena. Without them she was like a flower starved of sunlight .. she withered and would eventually die.

With Joxer and Autolycus to share her thoughts with, the nightmares were reduced to their real proportions and were easily shut away into the dark pit in her mind from which they had escaped. She told them all about how Patroclese had managed to deceive both of them. Of the fearful beating that Xena had taken when Caesar had captured her. Of the whipping he had ordered after that first night in his tent when she had claimed the toothpick, and the subsequent fever and the fact that she almost died.

"The man's a monster," she told them quietly, recognising the anger evident in their stiff postures and the white knuckles of their fists, "He sees Xena as his personal plaything, a toy for his amusement."

She hadn't told them about the beating she had received as a consequence of Autolycus's visit to Xena's cell, through the air shaft, in Nemausus, but she did tell them about the brawl in the courtyard, when they were preparing for the move to Arelate, and the punishment dispensed for it. Both men had winced and Joxer had gone very quiet for some while.

"I should never have sent you those letters," she said at the end. "All it's done is get more of my friends into trouble!"

"Gabrielle," said Autolycus sternly, "I can shuck these shackles in a blink of an eye, and that cell door will take me all of about thirty heartbeats to get past. I am not in any kind of trouble here."

"What about the soldiers on the other side of the door?" she asked with something of her old gleam in her eyes.

"Well ..." he said scratching his chin thoughtfully, "they present a little bit more of a challenge," he admitted reluctantly, "But given a little time, I'm sure we'll work our way around them," he grinned impudently at her.

"C'mon Gabby," coaxed Joxer gently, touching her arm tentatively, "Don't give up. Caesar hasn't beaten us yet. We've fought far tougher guys than him, remember? We'll find our way out and we'll work out a way to rescue Xena too."

Gabrielle smiled in spite of herself. Whatever else you could say about Joxer, and there was plenty that could be said (very little of it complimentary) you couldn't fault his loyalty or the courage in his heart. She patted his hand grateful for his optimism and said with as much certainty as she could muster, "Of course we will, Joxer."

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The tribune sat at ease in a battered chair behind a scarred wooden table. The office he had commandeered for his short stay in Massilia, was poorly furnished but functional. He had chosen it for it's closeness to the cells, where his prisoners were being held, so that he would be easily accessible should he be required.

Meronius stood at ease before Brutus as he finished his report, "Since the slave has been in the company of the two male prisoners, she has recovered from whatever was ailing her and is certainly fit enough for a sea journey. I would suggest, however, that she be kept in the company of the two men, or we run the risk of seeing her fall into that malaise once more."

The tribune nodded his head considering the words of the medic. It was too soon to hear any word back from Caesar about how he wanted the two new captives disposed of. He did, however, know that his general wanted the bard taken to Rome as quickly as possible, and locked up safe and sound in the private dungeons of his palace, where there would be no chance of anyone getting in to free her.

As for the two men ... Well, he knew that Caesar wanted them to further bind the Warrior Princess into her captivity. The big question was, should he send them off, under heavy escort to Caesar, or should he take them to Rome and hold them in the security of the palace dungeons as well?

The girl was the real key to Caesar's plans and if she should sicken and die, then Brutus was well aware that he would be held accountable. It was essential, therefore, that the bard's health be maintained. He made the decision to take the men, Autolycus and Joxer, with him to Rome. He'd feel safer having them under his hand, anyway, than send them marching up and down Narbonensis to catch up with his commander.

"You've done well Meronius," he said at last, "You can return to your normal duties, but I'd like you to check on the girl's health each day, just to be certain that there are no lapses back into this illness she's been suffering from." He scratched at his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully, before calling after the departing medic and telling him, "Have my scribe sent into me."

"Yes sir," registered Meronius as he left the sparsely furnished office.

Technically, neither man had done anything to be arrested for, although it would not take a lot to fabricate the charges required to hold them. Once in Rome, they would not be able to prove their innocence anyway ... even if they managed to get somewhere close to a magistrate to hear the case. Having powerful friends in Rome was a great advantage, and since there was no one more powerful than Caesar in the city, and since both men were foreigners with no friends in the Empire at all, then their fate was more or less sealed ... depending on exactly what Caesar would want to do with them.

The scribe, a tall man with short curly hair and a slight stoop, hurried into the office and took a seat on a small stool, opening up his wax tablets and checking the nib of his ready stylus. The man always irritated Brutus, but he was good at his work.

"Take down a message for Caesar, Polycrates," the tribune told him, "You can put in all the normal addresses and flourishes when you do the fair copy. The meat of the message is as follows."

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The following morning, Gabrielle along with Autolycus and Joxer, were ushered out of the cell that they had been sharing. An escort of twenty men, plus Meronius, formed up around them, as they were marched out of the town gaol, down the winding streets and past those curious enough to stop and watch the procession, to the docks where they were held awaiting the arrival of Brutus.

The ship they were to board was a Roman bireme. It was about a hundred and twenty feet long and had a double bank of oars on each side of the ship. The ship was narrow with a strong beak shaped ram at the stem and a high, curved and abundantly decorative stern post. There was also a single mast that could support a sail in favourable winds. It was, essentially, a fast manoeuvrable warship that promised a swift passage to Rome.

The only other time that Gabrielle had been in Massilia had been when she and Xena had escorted Verchinex back home. They had said their goodbyes to the Gaul, on this dock, before they spent some few candlemarks in the markets gathering a some luxuries, like fresh fruit, and bread, before reboarding the ship and heading back to Greece.

It had been a time of much turmoil for the bard. She was still suffering the pangs of conscience that denounced her part in the death of Crassus, the Roman who had died in the place of Verchinex. The guilt she had experienced over that decision had cracked the lid on the terrible turmoil, she still suffered through, over most of the things that had happened to her and her warrior companion that year.

Xena had been kind and gentle around her. She had been there to hold the shaking bard when she awoke screaming from her nightmares. The dour, gruff, Warrior Princess had leant her friend the strength of her arms as she tried to sooth away the fears and the terrors. Gabrielle had known that Xena was absorbing the blame for all the pain and suffering the bard had shown. Xena had a capacity for taking the weight of other's sins upon her own shoulders. It worried and shamed the bard when she knew that the Warrior Princess already carried enough guilt for her own past misdeeds to crush twenty strong minded people. Yet still she insisted on taking the blame for more ... even when the guilt clearly belonged to another.

It had been amazing how they had managed to get past that period in their lives and still maintain their friendship. She knew that it was sometimes a little ragged around the edges; there were so many painful issues and memories that they shared, but they had not been enough to sunder the love, respect and friendship of these two firm friends. - It's almost as if the fates have bound us together for a purpose and whatever may come our way will never be strong enough to destroy that bond, - she mused thoughtfully.

They watched as stores were loaded on to the vessel and they passed the time as they waited, speculating about just what Caesar had in mind for Xena. As they talked, Autolycus was watching for the arrival of the rest of the maniple that had escorted them into Massilia. When Brutus arrived, it became pretty obvious that the twenty man guard was all that would be going with them. He wasn't sure how that would help them on the ship, but it was far better odds than they had been faced with previously. He stroked the stubble on his chin with his index finger as he speculated upon the situation.

When all the barrels and bales had been loaded, and Brutus had taken himself and his personal staff on board, the trio of prisoners were escorted up the gangplank .. Joxer and Autolycus stumbling somewhat in their chains, a problem that Gabrielle didn't have (they rarely bothered to chain her) and down to the small, well filled hold of the ship. As the hatch was closed down and bolted on them, they took stock of their surroundings. It was dark, a little damp, and uncomfortable, but they got to stay together, which had to be a bonus.

"You know," gritted out Autolycus with some feeling, "I never really did like boats and since our little underwater adventure that time, I think I've developed a definite hatred of them. Especially when I can't see the horizon."

"What underwater adventure was that?" asked Joxer, brightly, trying to ignore the darkness surrounding them.

"I really don't think you want to hear about it, Joxer," advised Gabrielle projecting her voice towards where she guessed her friend to be settled, "It happened a few moons ago and Xena, Autolycus and I were lucky to get out of it alive. It doesn't make a good tale when you're about to embark on a sea voyage," she assured him.

"Okay," answered Joxer uncertainly, although willing to be guided by the bard, "What about this pit fight that you watched Xena fight?"

Gabrielle squirmed about on the pile of sacks that she was sitting on, before proceeding to give them the edited highlights of what had happened in Arelate and the pit fight against Benidor, "I think," she concluded at the end, "that it's one of his plans for Xena. I think he's going to make her into some form of gladiator. He made a huge amount of money from wagering on that fight, and with Xena's fighting skills he'll make a fortune which he can then use to further his political ends."

"That makes sense," agreed Autolycus, from the darkness off to her left and a little way in front, "Once he gets her to Rome, Xena could make him the city's wealthiest man."

Gabrielle gave a vexed sigh as she thought about it all, "What I can't understand is why Caesar is traipsing all over Narbonensis when all the big prizes and money is in Rome."

Joxer's voice came from the darkness, "We think we've figured that one out, Gab," he told her smugly, "It's got something to do with this Vertical Gaul fella that you and Xena saved."

"Vertical Gaul?" questioned Gabrielle in puzzlement.

"The idiot means Verchinex the Gaul." answered Autolycus sneering at Joxer, "We reckoned that since Xena played such a prominent part in getting him away from Caesar, that it would be like the Roman to use her against him in someway. We haven't worked out what yet, but it seems to be the most logical reason."

"Mmmm, could be," agreed the bard thoughtfully.

They heard the muffled cries from above that told them the ship was ready to cast off and the sound of the side ropes being hauled aboard. Having never been on a galley before, the thud and thump of the rhythmic swinging of the oars took some time to register their meaning, and as the crew headed out to sea they began a chant as they rowed, to help them keep the beat of their task.

My father was a sailor,
Push it back dip it down!
He roamed far across the seas,
Thrust it in, pull it out!
And every port he visited,
Push it back, dip it down!
A willing girl he'd leave,
Thrust it in, pull it out!
He married not a one of them,
Push it back, dip it down!
Though he played a merry chase,
Thrust it in, pull it out!
leaving me with family,
Push it back, dip it down!
From here to furthest Thrace!
Thrust it in, pull it out!

O! My Mother was a working girl,
Push it back, dip it down!
She plied her trade thrice nightly,
. . . . . . . . . .

With the chanty becoming bawdier by the verse, the trio of captives tried to get comfortable on the first part of their trip to Rome.

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Ephiny slapped her hand on the table, making mugs and parchment jump to the suddenness of her action. She scowled at the two women before her and they looked right back with angry stubbornness. This was going to be every bit as difficult as she had thought it would be.

"Both of you cannot go," she told them with calm patience that was beginning to strain around the edges.

"But, Ephiny ...." began Solari.

"Look, Eph ...." said Eponin at the same time.

The pair glared at each other then switched the looks back the Queen Regent of the Amazon Nation. Ephiny cast her eyes up at the thatched roof of the Queens council chamber and slowly counted to ten before looking back at her Amazon sisters, "Look," she said firmly, "This state visit is going to take a long time. You two are my lieutenants, so you both can't come with the delegation. One of you has to stay here and keep command of the nation, while the other gets to come. This is not a matter for debate. I need one of you here to keep the likes of Tarelle and her clique in order. Dammit!" she cursed angrily, "We can't all go off to Rome."

Solari and Eponin both looked startled by the edginess in Ephiny's tone and demeanor. She had become increasingly worried at receiving no word from Gabrielle upon the outcome of her bid to warn Xena about the trap she was heading into. All of them were! And so, they had come up with the plan of paying a State visit to the Romans where, they reasoned, both of the missing women would eventually turn up. The problem was deciding who got to miss the trip. Ephiny, as Queen Regent , had to go as head of state, but Solari and Eponin had been bickering for three days over which one of them was best suited to accompany her as head of the one hundred warrior contingent that Ephiny intended to take.

"We could make sure that Tarelle and all her cronies came with us to Rome, then we could both go," offered Solari.

Ephiny sighed wearily, "Look, Solari, we know that Tarelle has influence over a good deal more than a hundred of the sisters. Do you really want to go off to Rome on a hunt for Xena and Gabrielle leading a group of Amazon's who are out for their blood?" she asked incredulously.

She drummed her fingers on her table and chewed her lower lip as she thought her way through the situation, "I'll take Tarelle and the rest of the leaders of that particular group with me. Without their following they can't really cause too much trouble, and without their leaders the rest of the bunch shouldn't be a problem either. So that just leaves us to decide which of you two goes and which stays."

Ephiny grimaced as the bickering started again. She held up her hand in a silent demand for peace before she made her decision, "Since you two can't agree, I'll decide for you. Solari," she said turning to the stern, dour faced sister who nodded expectantly, "you'll stay here and run the city and the outlaying villages. Don't scowl at me," rebuked Ephiny, "You're the logical choice in that you've been running the nation's defence and with so many warriors away with me, you are best equipped to handle the problems that may arise from having to reorganise the rosters."

"Gee, I'm sorry that you don't get to come, Solari," grinned Eponin with abject insincerity, "Perhaps next time," she teased.

"Cut it out Eponin," warned Ephiny as she saw Solari's countenance darken even more, "I can always change my mind about this." She stared hard at the Weapons Master until she wiped the grin off of her face. "Now, there's lots of work to do. Solari, can I rely on you to make sure that Tarelle and her bunch are available for this excursion. I don't want her sloping off somewhere when it's time for us to leave."

Solari nodded her agreement, adding, "Off course you can," masking the feral grin that nearly made it to her features at that particular thought. She wasn't at all keen on Tarelle and her little clique, seeing them as a dangerous canker on the Amazon body politic.

"Okay, Eponin," continued the Queen Regent turning to her second lieutenant, "I want you to pick out sixty of the best hardened warriors we have. Fill the rest in with some of the good youngsters who would benefit from the experience, but make sure they're steady. I don't know what we're going to find, or what we might be called on to do, but I want to be ready for any situation. Got it."

She received nods of agreement from both women who scurried off to start their assignments. They had a week to get ready for this. Runners had already been sent off to secure passage on a fast ship out of Acanthus and some of them would proceed on to Rome with the news that the Amazon's were coming on a state visit. Once the Amazon Delegation was assembled they would head as quickly as possible for Rome, and see what could be found out about the Amazon Queen and her Champion.

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Xena was continually in Gabrielle's mind over the following few days. Without the pressure point in her wrist, the sea trip would have been unbearable, and she silently blessed her missing partner, offering up quick prayers to any listening benevolent God, to protect her friend. Autolycus was right about being shut up in a ship; the nausea it induced was far worse than she normally experienced, as her subconscious plagued her with terrifying memories that awful adventure .. she shuddered just thinking about it.

The bireme took a route that hugged the coast. Apparently there were Carthaginian warships on the prowl out in the more open seas and it made sense for a single ship to stick close to the coastline, where it could put in if threatened. It made the voyage far longer, but was safer.

They had been in the hold for some time, before the hatch was thrown open, bathing the space of their confinement with light. All three of the prisoners had been blinded by the sudden brightness and it took some time to throw the dazzle effect off. An optio ordered them up onto the deck, and they were grateful to get out of the claustrophobic hold and into the daylight.

Now they were at sea, with land showing only as a smudge off the port side of the ship, the trio were allowed to sit, under the watchful eyes of four guards, on the small deck on the ship's prow. With the men in shackles, it was unlikely that they would jump into the sea, but to make certain that his three prisoners stayed put, Brutus had ordered each to be secured with a chain to a deck bolt. None of them cared. It was a pure relief to be out of the dark stuffiness of the hold.

"Besides which," grinned Autolycus happily, "I could open these locks with a fingernail.

They spent the rest of the day up on the deck, Gabrielle entertaining her companions and the soldiers on duty, with tales of adventures, mixed in with love stories, tales of the Gods and of course, Xena. With the weather set fair it was a blissful way to spend the day, but when evening came on, they were once again locked up into the small, cramped hold, while the ship's captain moved his vessel closer to the shore for the night, preferring not to run in darkness.

They spent the next two days in this manner, falling into the peaceful routine of the cruise, but with the knowledge lurking in their minds that they were drawing ever closer to Rome and the problems that awaited them there. It was a depressing thought that none of them particularly wished to discuss with the others, so they spent their time studiously avoiding mention of it.

On the fourth day, they all noticed a change in the swell of the waves. They were just to the south of Pisse, little more than a day's sailing from Rome itself, when the previously friendly sky became ominously black with a speed that promised no good. The area was notorious for the vicious squalls that could blow up out of nothing, but it was weeks past the normal season for such weather and the bireme was caught napping as a serious storm hit them, driving them towards the inhospitable shores of the Italian coast.

As crewmen, joined by all the available manpower including their guards, rushed about lashing down everything that could be secured, and those working on the oars pulled desperately against the driving rage of the squall, Gabrielle, Autolycus and Joxer were temporarily forgotten about. The thief had been watching the way that the ship was being relentlessly driven towards the shore, and he made up his mind that it was time to do something. He had no intention of being chained to a ship as it rammed into some inconveniently placed rocks!

"I think it's time we thought about getting out of here!" he shouted above the howling wind.

Gabrielle nodded her agreement, although Joxer looker at the thief as if he was mad, "Where do ya think we can go?" he yelled incredulously.

"Anywhere we want to once we get free of the soldiers and this boat!" yelled back Autolycus.

With the practised ease of a master craftsmen, he slipped the small pick out of his boot heel and expertly disposed of his, and his two friends, shackles with a moment's concentration. As the wind and rain screamed around them, he drew the others into the limited protection of the ships prow and shouted his plan to them above the roar of the wind.

Gabrielle nodded her agreement. She looked pale and worried, but she was brave and ready to try anything that got her out of Caesar's clutches, so long as it would eventually give Xena a chance to extricate herself from her imprisonment. Joxer shook his head vehemently. He stood up carefully and peeked over the prow of the ship before ducking down again and yelling, "No Way! We wouldn't last a minute!"

It was doubtful that the others heard all of his words as the wind whipped them away with frustrating ease, but they did understand his general sympathies. Gabrielle grabbed his arm and shook it, trying to make him understand that it was their only hope.

He shook his head firmly and clung to the side.

Autolycus pantomimed an execution, letting him know that it was their likely end if they didn't take this chance that they's been offered.

Joxer resolutely shook his head.

Gabrielle looked a plea at the thief. She knew that they had to make the most of this slim chance. She was desperate to! But she hated the thought of going without Joxer. He had, after all, come to help in her rescue and it would hardly be a fair return to abandon him to Caesar and Brutus' mercy.

A grating sound shuddered through the hull of the ship as the vessel scraped along the hidden dangers of a barely submerged rocky outcropping. The mast, already swinging dangerously in the high winds suddenly exploded in half with a shrieking, "CRACK!" that drew all heads in it's direction as the heavy timbers listed and fell, pulling rigging and men over the side with it.

Autolycus shook his head in exasperation over Joxer and bobbed up into the full teeth of the gale to check the ship's progress. They were awfully close to the rocks now, but the mast and canvas that had just gone by the board, was acting as something of a sea anchor and slowing their progress. Which was just as well, because the rowers, on the side that the mast had fallen, were no longer able to continue the unequal struggle against the elements. Many of them had been injured and the screams and cries from the galley pit could be heard above the roar of the sea and wind.

Autolycus knew that they would have to jump soon, to stand any chance of being swept past the approaching rocks. If they got too close, they risked being ground up on them along with the ship. Their chances weren't good, but both he and Gabrielle reckoned that they were better than remaining on the ship, and as Caesar's captives, if they should manage to survive.

He tapped on Joxer's shoulder and pointed at something off to one side of the vessel. Joxer bobbed up beside him, and before he could react, Autolycus tipped him over the railing and into the raging waters below. Grabbing Gabrielle's hand, he helped her on to the deck rail and then joined her by plunging into the swirling water, as the bireme struggled to shear away from the watery grave it was heading for.

Striking out hard, away from the ship to avoid oars and debris, all Gabrielle and Autolycus could hope was that Joxer would have enough sense to do likewise, because they could see no sign of him, and pretty soon, lost sight of each other. The one thing they had in their favour was that the storm was pushing them towards the shore which was less than a quarter of a mile away. So if they could avoid drowning and, or, being dashed to death on the rocks, they stood a good chance of reaching the beach in freedom.

Chapter Thirty One: A Question of Honour
They were on the move again. Xena was once more forced into the cramped, uncomfortable, conditions of the cage as they headed north-west into the disputed territories. As was normal, Xena's guard maniple was packed close around the wagon with the VIIth Legion in marching order around them. It was an impressive sight and further propagated the rumours of Caesar's great treasure.

They were five days on the road. For the Warrior Princess it was a period where the daylight candlemarks were filled with boredom and discomfort, while the evenings offered the prospect of besting Caesar at Chess (something she looked forward to doing as much as she enjoyed humiliating him on the battlefield!).

After the first day, once the camp had been erected and night had fallen, Xena was allowed out of her cage and wagon, and taken into the tent that was always set next to Caesar's. The accommodation was large enough to house her and her watch dogs, usually increased to ten for this situation. She was given a blanket in the middle of the tent for her bed, and she was secured by a chain running from her collar to a heavy bolt driven deep into the ground. This allowed her to sit but not to stand, giving the legionaries a modicum of security from any rash action by her.

Around the outside of the tent, as always, was a guard of twenty men. No one was allowed near the area unless they carried authorisation from either Caesar or Flaccus, effectively cutting her off from everyone else in the camp. All guards were changed on a three candlemark basis to make certain that no one lost concentration about what they were doing. All in all, it was an effective way of keeping the prisoner secure, even without the added threat of Gabrielle hanging over her head.

Each evening, after she had eaten the plate of food she was given, Caesar would visit along with Patroclese, who brought his chess set with him. They barely exchanged words as they both concentrated on the game. For Xena it was a chance to best her captor, for Caesar it provided the chance to beat the Warrior Princess in a non-lethal situation. For both it was proving to be an addiction.

On that first evening as they played, while Xena concentrated on breaking up a slashing attack from her opponent's high priest, Caesar told her quite casually, "It appears that Brutus has found two of your friends."

Her blue eyes snapped up and locked onto his brown ones with startling intensity before she turned them back to the board, - He'll tell me when he's ready, - she told herself coldly, forcing herself to patience and to concentrate on the game.

If Caesar expected her to press him about either the identity of the captured men, or news of Gabrielle, he was sorely disappointed. But then again, her silence didn't really matter, because he knew that each of his words would sting her like fire, "Seems that the thief and the fool got careless," he continued in his bored, casual tone, "I'll really have to decide just what to do with them." He smiled viciously as a harder note crept into his voice, "Perhaps I'll have them executed, as a warning to any other 'friends' that you might have, not to interfere with Roman justice."

She knew he wasn't going to do that. Not when he could use them in a similar vein to Gabrielle. It gave him a stronger hand to play and she was well aware of it! She refrained from commenting, forcing herself to focus on the chess, using her tower to take out the intruding high pries and start a counter-attack of her own.

Caesar studied Xena carefully. He sat on a cushion opposite her, close enough to touch her, close enough to smell the scent of her. Even after long confinement, in dirty, ragged, blood marked clothes, she had an odour that was uniquely her own. Indescribable, it was heady and intoxicating. Coupled with her dark beauty, she was enough to make any man desire her. He smiled at his thoughts, - Desires like that could get a man killed! - He was realistic enough to settle for using her in his plans and the fighting pits. Turning her into a concubine was not an option he considered other than in his dreams. He valued his life too highly. Pushing forward he used his empress to take out one of her horsemen.

She moved her tower forward to threaten his emperor and waited for him to counter the move which would open the board to her empress within three moves and give her victory within five. She allowed a predatory smile to glide across her lips as she looked at him, knowing the game was hers.

Caesar frowned in concentration as he looked at the inevitable end that the move dictated here, "Your battle," he conceded, a hint of anger lurking around the edges of his tone.

"My game, I think you mean," purred Xena contentedly.

"Oh no, Xena," he shook his head in emphatic denial. "The game is all mine and I'm the master of it ... and you."

Xena favoured him with a look that could have driven nails through six inches of steel, "In your dreams," she told him, her voice dropping to a low, menacing, register.

His faced darkened before being smoothed into a broad smile that came nowhere close to touching his hard eyes, "You know, Xena, I think I have been far too lenient with you of late. Since I sent your little bard away, you have grown increasingly ... how shall I put this ... less tractable. Well, you're storing up a lot of punishments for poor Gabrielle. Do you think she'll forgive you for the beatings she's going to receive when we join her in Rome?"

"You haven't got me there yet," she reminded him darkly.

"Ah!" he actually produced a genuine smile, "Still think you can slip your leash and get to your friend before her guards get the message to ... play with her, shall we say. I think she might just welcome the cross after that, don't you?"

Rage and anger blotted out thought as she made a lunge for the monster in front of her, only to be jerked harshly back by the collar and chain at her neck. She lay on the ground gasping for breath, her hands unable to sooth her tortured throat, held short by their own chains.

"That wasn't a bright move, Xena," chided Caesar gently. "I really am going to have to teach you a little humility. Respect for your betters perhaps?" He motioned to the guards around the edge of the tent, "Teach her her place," he told them as he rose effortlessly from his cushion. "Don't damage her too much. Bruise her a little .. just so that she learns a dog does not try to bite it's master."

He left as the ten soldiers began to systematically beat her between shoulder and ankles with their heavy batons. Nothing that would break bones or do vital damage, but enough to leave her battered and sore for a few days. Xena gritted her teeth and allowed only the occasional grunt of pain to escape her, chalking up another tally to add to Caesar's ever increasing score.

When her guards had finished 'chastising' her, Patroclese approached and examined the damage that had been done, "Nothing broken," he told her.

"That was the object of the 'lesson', wasn't it?" she told him rhetorically, "Just Caesar letting me know my place." She failed to hide a wince as she sat on her bruised posterior .. travelling for the next few days was going to be more than a little uncomfortable.

"Why do you go out of your way to provoke him like that, Xena?" demanded the healer, as he applied some salve to the bruised and torn skin around her neck where the collar had bitten deep.

The Warrior Princess turned angry blue eyes on him, "Because it's the only way I can fight him at the moment." and the thought rang in her mind, - If I give up the fight, if I allow him to cower me, then not only does he gain victory but I also lose who I am and I might as well be dead. - She gave a mirthless smile and told the healer seriously, "A little pain is worth it to know that he cannot bend me to his will. It gives me something to live for."

"But that's just stubborn pride talking!" he yelled at her angrily. He had tried hard to fight it, but against all his prejudices, pre-conceived loyalties and general beliefs he found he really liked this woman, "Bend, Xena. Accept your new lot in life. Things will then get better for you and Gabrielle. He values you greatly and you could find living so much more comfortable if you would just submit."

"Never!" she hissed. The word impregnated with all the rage, pride and passion that constituted her being.

Patroclese shook his head sadly and collected the chessmen and board together before leaving the tent, "Goodnight, Xena. Sleep well."

**********

She hadn't slept much that night, not that she ever really slept well. Too many memories of past evil; too many nightmares! A deep sleep was something she had trained herself to avoid. Her latest beating ensured that she would be too uncomfortable to find much rest.

The following day had proven to be the trial she had expected. Her body was a mass of purple, black and blue contusions that allowed her to find no way of sitting without being constantly reminded of her discomfort. Added to this, the rain that had plagued them on their trip to Lugdunum had given way to hot sunshine and thick sticky humidity, that left all the passengers, in the stuffy wagon, irritable.

By the evening stop, Xena was tired, aching, and in a bad mood. Needless to say, Caesar won the evening's chess match as she found it hard to concentrate her focus on the game. The Roman had gloated over his easy victory, but had been disappointed over his inability to torment the Warrior Princess with words, as she flatly refused to say anything to him.

He had ordered another beating before he left the tent, and Xena began to suspect that her punishments had more to do with the physical impression that Caesar wanted to present at his meeting with Verchinex, than with trying to break her spirit. The bruising that he obviously wanted her to show was nothing that she couldn't easily handle and would heal very quickly if not added to. It was, therefore, part of the show that the Roman noble intended to stage.

The next three days had followed the same pattern. Xena became so used to the constant ache and soreness that it no longer had the power to trouble the light sleep that she took at night, - I suppose you can become used to anything over time, - she mused. However, it did leave her with a body that was smothered with skin that ranged in colour from sickly yellow to black, and included a variety of browns, blues, purples and greens that showed through the rents made in her torn and tattered clothing.

On that sixth day, she was aware that the Seventh Legion did not break camp. The guard maniple and the wagon had continued alone on it's march, which made Xena certain that they were nearing their destination. Wherever they had been heading, they reached it by mid-afternoon. The Warrior Princess could hear the sounds of a large tent being erected, larger than Caesar's normal command tent, - A pavilion then, of some sort, - she assumed, - A place to hold the meeting, - was her speculation.

She spent the rest of the hot afternoon and evening stuck in the cage in the wagon. Xena guessed that Caesar wasn't going to take a chance that some Gaulish spy saw and recognised her as she was moved from her travelling accommodation to wherever Caesar planned to keep her for the night. - Of course, - she brooded as she shifted her position in the cage, perspiration running down her face and over her cramped body, - he could always leave me in here all night! -

She almost convinced herself that that was what he intended to do, when dusk had long passed and there seemed to be no movement to let her out. However, several candlemarks after nightfall, Flaccus finally appeared to unlock the cage and supervise her movement.

She had been right. The tent erected was a huge, silken pavilion. She paid it little real attention as her busy eyes checked out the dispositions of the sentries and the lay of the land. Unfortunately, it was a new moon shedding very little light in a cloudy sky, so she got little more than the impression that they were probably in a wide valley, close to the river that ran through it.

With sore aching muscles that had set from the long, uncomfortable confinement, Xena was as much dragged as allowed to shuffle into the brightly lit pavilion. She blinked the glare away and took stock of her surroundings as she was hustled through the wide flaps of fabric that served as a door, and could be raised to open the full front of the tent, making it appear as little more than an extended canopy, allowing for easy access and open observation.

The ground of the pavilion, she noticed had been strewn with rugs and long banks of cushions were scattered down each side to where a table stood opposite the opening with one large, gilded chair behind it. The whole effect looked almost regally elaborate and was designed, she suspected, to make the visiting Gauls feel nervous and out of place.

Behind the table were three fabric doorways that obviously led into rear chambers. Caesar was evidently in one of them, but she had no idea what the other two were for, unless she was to be held in one of them .. though she had expected to be tethered in the central entrance area, especially when Flaccus ordered her to sit down there.

She obeyed his instruction. She tried not to invite any more punishments to herself than those she considered to be strictly necessary. For the most part she obeyed Flaccus and the other guards, but she refused to give Caesar the same obedience; he was the one she saved her resistance for. Her eyes followed the Senior Centurion as he entered the 'room' on the left behind the table.

Ten guards remained watching her, but she was not chained to the ground as had been the normal routine. She sat quietly, and ate the food that they gave her. Just bread and cheese that evening, - But I'm hardly in any position to object, now am I? - she thought wryly as she munched on the brown travel bread and the hard tangy cheese, - Beside's, - she was forced to admit, - I've eaten worse. -

When Caesar didn't appear for the evening chess match, and she still hadn't been fastened down for the night, she decided to test how far this unexpected freedom stretched. Moving gracefully and with fluid strength she stood up and stretched .. as far as she could .. carefully.

She was instantly aware of ten men snapping into increased alertness with batons ready to subdue her should it prove necessary, "Easy boys," she reassured them softly, "I just needed to stretch a bit,"

"Sit down," ordered the decurion in charge, firmly.

Xena smiled obligingly and slowly lowered herself back to her former position on the rugs. Chaffed by inactivity, she allowed her mind to contemplate the coming meeting. She suspected that Verchinex would be there the following day, for she doubted that Caesar would leave himself in too exposed a position for longer than necessary.

In a way it would be good to see the Gaul leader again. After they had slipped out of Rome, and got back to the ship, they had sailed with the chieftain to Massilia and, before dropping him off there, she and Gabrielle had got to know and like the man. Previously, they'd only had the myth to go on, much like he had with Xena herself, and that short interlude had given them both a chance to see the people behind the legends, with the bard, of course, taking notes.

However, although it would have been good to see Verchinex under normal circumstances, this was far from a normal time. She knew that she was going to be used in some way against the Gaul, probably with a direct assault on his honour, it was just a question of what Caesar would demand for it.

As if just thinking of the man had given her the power to summon him, the Roman general appeared from the left hand 'room' flanked by Flaccus and Titus, the Junior Centurion. Caesar allowed his gaze to linger on Xena for a moment, before saying, "Very well Titus see to it." The Centurion saluted and left the pavilion. Caesar turned his attention back to his captive as he seated himself in the throne like chair behind the table. He smiled at her almost benignly, "Well, Xena," he said smugly, "I suppose you're wondering what all this is about."

The Warrior Princess allowed a small quirk of amusement, for his arrogance, to show, before replying, "You're meeting Verchinex tomorrow. Obviously you're seeking to work out some form of truce between your forces and his, so it will leave you free to go back to Rome and announce that all is quiet on the western front. That should give you a chance to pull some of Pompey's teeth and quash some of the rumours about the execution of Crassus."

As he listened to Xena outline his carefully laid plan, the smile had gradually fallen from Caesar's face to be replaced by an angry scowl, - The woman must be a witch, - he snarled to himself as she had more or less detailed his general plan, which no one other than himself had known. - Still she hasn't mentioned her own part in my plans, so perhaps it's just because she's almost as good at manipulating, people and events, as I am. - He opened his mouth to give her some explanation of her part in all of this, but she continued before he could do so.

"You're going to use me, in some way, to manipulate Verchinex's honour. He is indebted to me for rescuing him from your executioners, and you intend to use that to compel him in some way," she told him bluntly, not trying to hide the contempt in her eyes she felt for him doing so, nor the outrage she felt at being used in such a manner, even though she maintained a relaxed outer appearance.

Caesar offered her a slow derisive handclap as she finished her analysis, "Very good, Xena," he congratulated her coldly, "Well, my sweet, having worked out the basic elements, I think you can wait for tomorrow to witness the details at first hand." He snapped his fingers and she became aware of some movement at the pavilion entrance, but maintained her eye contact with the Roman general.

"For now," he continued, "we need to make sure that you're going to be comfortable for the night and ready for the meeting tomorrow." Two guards approached her and hauled her roughly to her feet. A thick, heavy bar of wood was threaded past the crook at her elbow, across her back and through the elbow crook on the other side, effectively removing all chance of using her hands. She strained the muscles of her arms and back to test the strength of the beam, and was not surprised to feel no give.

The bar was five feet long and had a metal ring at either end. Chains were attached to the rings which could be used to steer the prisoner. Flaccus motioned the guards to follow him, and Xena was forced towards the central chamber at the rear of the pavilion.

As she cleared the door flaps, she could see two heavy wooden posts that had been set into the ground. The legionaries manoeuvred her so that she would be facing the entrance and then secured the chains from the crossbeam, through the iron ring at the top of each post, and hauled them in tight so that Xena's upper body was bent forward and her weight rested painfully on her arms and shoulders. More lengths of chain were then produced to secure each of her ankles to rings at the base of each post, and finally, the collar chain was secured to a stake driven into the ground in front of her. Tethered in this way, the only thing she could move was her head .. just a little.

"Now I know you understand the generalities of my designs," purred Caesar, as he entered the 'room'. "This is just a minor precaution to make sure that you don't do anything foolish, and that Verchinex fully understands the situation." His face creased with pleasure as Xena scowled at him, he had mastery here whether she was ready to concede it or not.

He turned to go and then stopped, almost as if a thought had suddenly crossed his mind, "Oh yes," he said turning back, "gag her."

He watched as Flaccus forced the gag into her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head. Xena couldn't fight against it, but she allowed her dislike of this latest indignity to show in her blue eyes.

"Can't have you shouting out and ruining Verchinex's surprise now, can we?" Caesar told her happily. Why do you think I've gone to all the trouble of keeping you hidden from the public gaze?" He ran an almost tender finger along the length of her silky smooth jawline and his smile deepened as she jerked her head away from him as far as she could. "Sleep well, my slave." He told her with almost affection in his voice, "Things will change for you tomorrow ... one way or another."

Chapter Thirty One: A Question of Honour
Xena found that her current circumstances of detention, precluded any chance of sleep. The way that they had her strung up ensured total discomfort leaving her back, arms shoulders and neck aching and stressed, - What I wouldn't give for a massage, - she thought longing for the chance to work some of the kinks out of her abused muscular frame.

The night had rolled by leaving her drained and far from confident about what the day would bring. Caesar's parting words kept rolling around in her mind, - 'Things will change' he said. The question is what? And how will it effect Gabrielle and the others? - She had no answers and the questions served to increase her concern over the fate of her friends which was bound inextricably into her own. - Of course that's been part of his intent. He want's me off balance and unsure of myself. Well, Roman, you'll have to do better than that, because the one surety in this life is that somehow, someday, I'm going to kill you! -

With the rising of the sun, the guards were changed and she could hear stirring throughout the pavilion, although Caesar hadn't made his presence known yet. She could feel her lips cracking through lack of moisture. The gag ensured her silence, but also leeched the fluids from her mouth making her throat sore and dry as well. She had no expectation of receiving any water until after Caesar's meeting with Verchinex had been completed.

A candlemark after sunrise she heard Caesar in the outer chamber listening to what his scouts had to say about the approach of a large band of Gauls, "He's sticking to the agreement, then."

She heard the satisfaction in Caesar's voice, and strained again at the bonds holding her. If she could just remove herself until Verchinex had left the meeting, she would readily surrender herself back to the Romans afterwards to ensure her friends' safety. She resented being used as a form of coercion against a man she admired. Chains and wood resisted her efforts, yet again.

"I didn't doubt his honour," continued Caesar, "In fact I'm counting on it. However, some of the lesser chieftains might not have been so trustworthy." There was a slight pause as the Roman general thought for a moment, "The scouts have pressed past the approaching horde?" he questioned, "They've confirmed the position of the bulk of the Gaulish forces?"

"Yes sir," agreed the scout, "They've advanced no further than the agreed upon distance."

"Very well," Xena could hear the contentment in Caesar's voice, "We can expect our guests about a candlemark before midday. All officers to their posts. I want all in readiness for the arrival. We'll show these barbarians some imperial magnificence and let them know what Rome can offer them, one way or another," he finished darkly.

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"So, Kerreth," the dark bearded chieftain said softly in the lilting tongue of his people, "the Romans are here ahead of us." He surveyed the pavilion and the troops around it with keen interest, "You say they arrived here yesterday?" He got a nod in return from his scout. "So," he said at last, "it seems like Caesar wishes to play host to this meeting."

There was a rumble of angry mutters from around him. Arganath and Merrythn, two of the chiefs chosen to accomplish him growled their dislike at the situation before them, "It seems to me that this Caesar presumes too much," the more mature Hyman voiced his disapproval, "but there was no stipulation in the agreement about arriving early and, look you, the Romans have provided shade from the hot sun for the meeting."

Verchinex grinned at his old friend. Hyman was a wily old campaigner who had a droll sense of humour. In his own inimitable way he was trying to calm things down and let the others know that the Roman's had not broken faith so far. Verchinex turned back to his chief scout, "What of the VIIth Legion, Kerreth? Are the still camped beyond the agreed boundaries?"

"Aye," agreed the scout with a jerk of his head, "I've got six of my lads keeping a close eye on the bastards. If they move, we'll know long before we're caught in any real trouble.

The Gaulish chieftain turned his head back to the scene below him, "So the only thing we have to worry about is Caesar and his fine troopers down there?" He scratched at his beard considering the matter one last time, before making his decision, "Aye, well the chance of a peaceful harvest makes a powerful argument. I've no wish to see our people starve through the winter if words can fill their bellies."

He signalled to his men and they started down the hill in a long striding wave. The Gauls showed none of the Roman's discipline and moved however their feet took them. Individually, they were incredibly strong fighting men, but the Romans had the edge on them in that they fought with precision and direction, while the Gauls fought impetuously alone. That was why the Romans were pushing into their territory, but tradition and culture stopped the brave Gauls and other Celtic peoples from realizing the simple truth.

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Caesar was immediately informed of Verchinex and his warrior's approach and took his place in his heavy, throne like chair to await them, - Let them approach me as supplicants, - he had decided, - It's time these savages began to realize that Rome is the dominant force in the world, and that I am master of Rome. -

He lounged back indolently, resting his elbow on the chair's arm and cupping his chin in his palm .. the picture of bored aristocracy awaiting to hear a petition from peasants under his dominion.

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Xena heard the sentry announce the approach of Verchinex and had little trouble visualizing Caesar sitting regal on his throne waiting to receive the Gauls in Roman splendour. The mere thought of it made her strain once more at her bonds until she received half a dozen heavy blows from batons that made her ears ring, - Obviously Caesar is not too worried if I'm conscious through this, - she decided as she shook her head to clear it. She glared at her guardians as they stood ready to continue to discourage her struggles, but they stepped back to their places around the edge of the cubical when she relaxed once more.

The Warrior Princess felt the trickle of blood as it ran down her face from a small wound in her scalp, - They always bleed worse than they are, - she reminded herself and returned her concentration to the events about to take place in the outer area of the pavilion.

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Verchinex motioned the bulk of his warriors to wait at what he judged to be a distance equal to the waiting host of the Roman troops. Marching on with his three chieftains and an honour guard of twenty, he headed towards the pavilion. As they approached the silk tent, two of the Roman guards pulled on tasselled cords that opened up the front, giving clear access to the Gauls and allowing the assembled troops to observe the meeting from a distance, without losing sight of their leaders.

Verchinex, Hyman, Arganath and Merrythn walked like lions into Caesar's den. They ignored the finery, that was obviously there to impress them of Roman superiority, but the relaxed ease of the man who awaited them was not lost upon them. Here was a man who radiated power. A man who believed he had a destiny to fulfill. A dangerous man.

The dark Gaulish chieftain who had met and experienced Caesar's compelling aura before, watched the effect he had on his companions. The younger men, Arganath and Merrythn, he saw, were awed by the Roman noble. The power he projected left them feeling insignificant and unsure of themselves. A glance at Hyman, showed that the older man had recognised Caesar's arrogant assumption of mastery, but there was a hint in the man's eyes that he was impressed by what he saw.

Verchinex had known what to expect and had steeled himself against Caesar's presence. He was no captive awaiting execution now, he was master in his own lands and Caesar's equal in power ... whatever the Roman chose to believe, "You wanted this meeting," he stated gruffer than he had intended, "what have you got to say?"

Caesar smiled smugly, "I greet you ... gentlemen, in the name of Imperial Rome." the deliberate hesitation over the courtesy title had not been lost on the Gauls who shifted uneasily, showing a rising anger in their demeanours. Caesar considered them savages, just one step up from the brute beasts of the field. He was honouring them by even breathing the same air as them. It brought scowls from the Gauls. "Can I offer you refreshment?" he continued politely, "Some wine perhaps?"

"We have not come for wine, Caesar," Verchinex told him bluntly, remembering the last cup that the Roman had shared with him. "Your message spoke of a truce. I would know what you have in mind."

"Ah yes," Caesar nodded agreeably, the smile never leaving his face, "A man of action, as I remember." He picked up a parchment from the table in front of him. "This is a treaty aimed at guaranteeing the peace of this area for the next year." he informed them. "The basic terms are that neither Roman nor Gaul will seek to make incursions into the other's territory and that, to ensure it, a two league buffer zone should be established ... a no man's land if you like," he explained simply. He handed the paper to Verchinex.

"I would have my scribe look at this," the Gaul told him neutrally.

Caesar waved his hand in compliance, "Of course, I expected as much. Do you wish to summon him?"

Verchinex spoke a few quiet words to Merrythn who turned and trotted back to where Folko stood with the honour guard. Within moments, the merchant cum scribe had returned with the young chieftain and had moved to Verchinex's side to take the paper.

"It says that it's for a one year truce and the establishment of a buffer zone. Nothing else. It's straight forward and presented in clear language," Folko told them in their native tongue.

The dark Gaulish warrior turned his piercing gaze on Caesar, "Why would you offer this truce?" he questioned certain there had to be some trick, "I see no gain in it for you, although it gives us what we seek."

Caesar spread his hands deprecatingly and the smug quirk of his lips returned, "It suits my purposes."

Verchinex was not satisfied with the reply, "Unless I receive a reason that makes sense to me I will not trust you to keep the promise made on this paper," he said in a low threatening voice.

The good humour dropped from Caesar like a cloak, "Very well," he half growled, "I have business in Rome to attend to. I wouldn't want to leave here without knowing that we have a truce in place. Although I promise you that we can resume the usual hostilities when the truce ends." His eyes were fixed on the Gaulish chieftains, "Is that a strong enough reason for you?"

Verchinex studied Caesar for long moments. He was well aware that the Roman had an ongoing battle for power with Pompey and that a return to Rome would allow him to continue it. Dissent amongst the Romans was good for the rest of the world, "Aye," he agreed finally, "Your reason is good enough."

"Then will you sign the truce?" Caesar questioned intently.

"Let my scribe see the second copy and if there's no trickery to be found, we'll sign," agreed the Gaul. They had already decided to accept if the proposal was one they could live with. A year's peace gave them time to gather the harvest, which promised to be a good one this season, and prepare for a campaign the following year.

Folko looked through the second paper and nodded his assent to his chief. Verchinex and the others signed both copies before handing them to Caesar who signed and sealed them with the Imperial seal of Rome.

As the Gauls turned to leave, Caesar called out, "Verchinex, I have a private matter I would discuss with you before you leave."

The five men halted as one, turning back to face the Roman, "You may speak in front of my people," the chieftain told him coldly.

"I give you my word that this does not concern your people. Just you. It's a matter of honour," Caesar told him blandly.

"You cast doubt on my honour Roman?" growled Verchinex questioningly, real heat in his voice.

"Nothing of the sort," assured Caesar smoothly, "Of course if you doubt my honour when I give you my word that you will not be harmed or detained against your will ...." he left the rest unsaid.

Verchinex scowled and then motioned to his entourage to wait outside. Once they had left he turned his attention on his Roman enemy once more, "What is it you wish to say?" he demanded.

"Ah," smiled Caesar, "Actually I have something to show you, or rather I should say someone." He waved his hand in a signal and the central portion of the silk wall behind the Roman rose to reveal ten soldiers armed with batons, surrounding one woman chained and gagged Her body showed the evidence of many beatings, and there was fresh blood running down her cheek.

"Xena!" breathed Verchinex explosively.

At another wave of Caesar's hand, one of the guards stepped forward with an axe ready in his hands, "As you can see, Xena is now my property to do as I will with." He stood and walked over to the Warrior Princess and gently fingered the silver collar that hung around her throat, "You see this woman has been condemned three times by Roman justice for, let's see," he said ticking off the items on his fingers, "oh, yes, piracy, rebellion and off course attempted assassination. Enough to earn her a place on the cross, don't you think?" he asked.

"What do you want Caesar?" demanded Verchinex angrily, "You want me to swap myself for Xena? Well I'll do it. I owe this woman my life and for honour's sake I could do no less."

"Very noble, I'm sure, Verchinex, but no. I don't want, or need, your person. As far as Rome is concerned you're already dead. If you turned up alive once more I'd have some problematical questions to answer," Caesar told him.

"What do you want from me, then?" growled the Gaul angrily.

"I want your written agreement, and your word as a Gaulish chieftain, that you will never again fight against me or the Legions of Rome. That you will retire from the military scene. Go and raise crops and children. Become a man of peace," Caesar explained.

Verchinex took a long breath as his thoughts whirled around the subject, "If I agree to do so, Xena will be released?" he asked.

Caesar shook his head firmly, "No," he said, "the Warrior Princess would remain in my custody. Her crimes are too great to justify her release. However, unless you agree to my terms, I will promise you that she will be executed the moment you leave this tent." The soldier with the axe swung it up in readiness. Xena looked hard at Verchinex, blue eyes boring into brown. She could not influence his decision in anyway. Her head demanded that she let the Gaul know that he should refuse Caesar, but her heart held her in thrall as she remembered Gabrielle and her friends: If she died, they would die.

"What assurances do I have that you won't just execute her anyway once I have made your agreement?" the Gaul asked

"I'll give you my written word. I'll also agree that once Xena is dead, you are released from your side of the bargain. Will that satisfy you?" the Roman asked patiently.

As she watched Verchinex, she could see his decision form in his eyes. A look of sorrow and mute apology projected from her own as the great Gaulish warrior nodded his agreement, "Very well. For the debt I owe Xena you will have your promise." He turned his gaze full onto Caesar, "I think that this parley for truce was a rogues way of taking a far greater pledge. The trickery for this was not needed. You only had to send word of your price and I would have paid it."

Xena shook her head in resignation. The Gaul was a great and honourable man and she felt outraged that she had been the instrument to remove him from the leadership of his people. She could not thank him for her life, she could only nod her head to him in acceptance of the gift and make a silent promise to make Caesar pay for his actions. She watched until the lowered cloth obscured him from her vision.

Chapter Thirty Two: Naked Fear?
Gabrielle coughed weakly and shivered. A wave crashed on the beach behind her and ran up, around, under and over the exhausted bard. - Oh Hades! - she cursed as she tried to coordinate cold, protesting muscles enough to drag herself further from the raging surf that was being driven by the storm.

Through sheer dint of willpower and an innate stubbornness, that had been fostered by her long association with a certain Warrior Princess, she pushed herself to her knees, and unsteadily made it to her feet. Taking deep breaths she commanded her tired, battered and aching limbs to obey her, before she staggered the few necessary steps away from the edge of the surf.

Clear of the sea water, Gabrielle tried to peer through the stormy deluge that was lashing the coast. If she had managed to make it safely to the beach, then she prayed, to any of the Gods who cared to listen, that Autolycus and Joxer had done so as well. The question was, where would they be?

The bard began to shiver again. She was cold, wet and exhausted. She couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction, and she was in enemy territory. And, just to make things even more interesting, she had no doubt, whatsoever, that as soon as he was able, Brutus would have hunting parties out looking for her. - If he had survived the storm! - her mind insisted. - What would Xena do? - she thought to herself picturing her strong determined friend at her side.

"Find somewhere to shelter, Gabrielle," she clearly heard the Warrior Princess tell her in her mind, "You can't do anything until the storm lessens, and if you don't get into the dry, you're going to come down with a fever." - Fine, - she decided, - Let's see if we can find a cave then, -

Decision made, she forced her protesting body to head towards the cliffs. If she was lucky, she'd be able to find a cave. If she was really lucky, there might be some dry driftwood in it that she could use to start a fire, always supposing she could find some flints, - Ah well, - she mused, - it's something to dream about. -

Stumbling along northwards in the lashing rain, she nearly missed the entrance to a small cave that was practically hidden behind a dense cluster of boulders. She squeezed in among the rocks and into the dark space beyond, feeling an almost instantaneous relief as she left the storm behind her.

Gabrielle could feel sand beneath her feet, but could see really very little of her shelter until a flash of lightning lit up the space revealing, for an instant, a cave not much more than ten foot square. She sank to her knees, and breathed deeply, trying to harness some of the reserves of energy that she hoped she still had.

As she knelt there, her instincts began to register a few details that were going to be important to her. Firstly the sand was dry and even partially warm, which was not too surprising as this was the middle of summer. Secondly, in the intermittent flashes of lightning, she could make out some piles of driftwood scattered around the edges of the cave, obviously deposited during the winter storms when much higher tides reached the base of the cliffs. Thirdly, she desperately needed a source of heat.

Coaxing her rebellious body into movement, she scouted around the cave to see if she could find anything that would help her get a fire started. Luck seemed to be with her when her questing hands found some unshaped natural stones that had the feel of being flint. She remembered Xena's patient lessons on how to start a fire. A half grin formed as she recalled how inept she had been when she first started to trail after the Warrior Princess .. she hadn't even been able to start a blaze then and the cold had finally forced her to approach Xena's camp. Since then, though, she had learnt much from her friend .. including how to get a fire started. She struck two together, testing them and her skill, and was able to produce a spark.

- So far, so good, - she told herself, trying to keep her spirits up.

Placing the flints she had found where she could easily re-locate them, she gathered together some of the dried wood that was scattered around the cave. The next part was going to be more difficult, however. Using her hands, she carefully examined her flints to find one with a sharp edge. She eventually selected the one most suited to the task she had in mind and, choosing a stick, she slowly began to shave slivers off to produce some fine tinder.

"I hope this works," she muttered to herself when she finally judged she had enough to make the attempt.

Taking two more of the flints she cracked them together close to the tinder. A spark leapt and she held her breath as she hoped it would catch and fire, but it died before gaining a hold on the tinder. Drawing a deep breath, Gabrielle told herself firmly, - You can do this .. focus! - and continued to strike the flints, knowing that she desperately needed to get this fire started, - I can't go running to Xena this time, - she thought miserably.

Finally, after too many attempts to number, she succeeded and she gently blew on the glow that began to flicker in the fine shreds of wood. As the flames became stronger, she began to feed in larger pieces, just twigs to start with, but as the flames increased in size and strength, she was able to add further, larger pieces of wood, until she had a respectable fire going.

Gabrielle huddled over the warmth protectively, allowing the heat to soak into her cold body, revelling in just how good it felt. Eventually, she pulled herself away from the flames and began to strip her sodden clothing off, she wrung the excess water out of them and laid her skirt and top and undergarments on the opposite side of the fire as she curled up in front of the warmth and allowed her eyes to drift closed.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Autolycus cradled his left arm gingerly. He was almost certain that it was broken above the wrist and it hurt like Hades! He allowed himself a short rest against a convenient rock and tried to blink some of the rain out of his eyes. He had no idea where either of his two companions were. He hoped that they were somewhere on this beach, and that neither of them had been too badly hurt in getting through the reef that protected the bay. He'd been slammed against a rock shortly after losing sight of Gabrielle and that's where he'd broken his arm. He offered up a silent prayer that neither Gabrielle, nor Joxer had come to grief.

- Well, sitting here isn't going to help matters, - he told himself sternly, - with any luck, Gabrielle will have found some shelter to hole up in. If she stays put I might be able to find her. The question is which way should I go? -

A flash of lightning suddenly showed the bireme in stark relief as it somehow slid through a gap in the reef and was pushed into the bay, - Well, that settles it, - decided the thief quickly, - I'll head north away from the ship and Brutus, hopefully I'll find the others before he does ... if they survived. -

Moving towards the cliffs, he stumbled along, trying to ignore his exhaustion in the need to remove himself from the all too close proximity of the Roman and his troops. Having managed once to get free from Brutus, he was in no hurry to hand himself back to him.

It was hard going. He was cold and tired, and the storm made it difficult to see far. The only good things about the situation were that the Romans would find it almost impossible to search for them, at least until the storm abated, and that being summer the tide, even driven by the storm, didn't reach the cliffs. He was also fairly certain that the rain would wash out any tracks he left in the soft sand.

The brief flashes of illumination that the lightning provided, helped him gauge what was before him, but it also tended to leave his vision impaired in the after glow of the violent light. However, it was during one of those brief flashes that he spotted what appeared to be a body, laying at the surf's edge.

Shaking his head, to clear his eyesight, Autolycus stumbled down the beach once more and found an unconscious Joxer, laying half drowned with blood running freely from a scalp wound where he had hit his head, "Well at least that won't have caused any permanent damage," muttered the thief to himself. It was not a charitable thought, but it did afford him some relief from the worry he'd been feeling, for if Joxer made it to shore, albeit a bit battered, then it was good odds that Gabrielle would be found also.

He gently patted Joxer's cheeks with his good right hand. With his broken arm, he'd never be able to carry the wannabe warrior. He was going to need some kind of assistance if he was going to be able to get his companion off the beach, "C'mon Joxer," he encouraged as the other man's eyes began to flicker, "C'mon, we've got to find Gabrielle," he prodded.

"G ... Gab ... Gabby," Joxer slurred dazedly. The crack on his head was obviously a bad one.

"Can you stand if I help?" asked Autolycus carefully.

"Gab," the injured man rasped as he tried to make his eyes focus and his body work, "Where's G..Gab?"

Autolycus used his good arm to pull Joxer to his feet, where he staggered unsteadily and would have fallen back into the surf if the thief hadn't managed to loop one of his friend's arms over his shoulder and get his right arm around his waist, "C'mon Jox, help me out here," he grunted softly, "move your feet and let's get moving."

It was a struggle as they teetered precariously back to the scant shelter of the cliffs and, once there, continued north away from Brutus and his men. Autolycus hoped that they'd find the bard, and that she wasn't too hurt. He needed her assistance with Joxer, knowing that she knew far more about healing than he did, having learnt from Xena. He also wanted her to look at his wrist that was throbbing with undiluted pain. What he didn't want to do was admit to himself that he was worried about the golden haired bard .. it was far easier to concentrate on finding her for the help she could give him and Joxer.

They moved slowly with Autolycus encouraging his confused and disorientated friend every step of the way. If he could, he'd have found a way off the beach and up into the countryside above; he felt too exposed here, knowing that Brutus could be just a step behind him. - Well genius, - he goaded himself, - worrying about it won't do us any good. Besides, if Gabrielle's on this beach and we're up on the cliff we're gonna miss her. -

He plodded heavily on, half supporting, half dragging, Joxer with him, exhaustion hampering his every movement. The storm continued to whip viciously around them, and in some way he was grateful for the closeness of Joxer's body because that was the only warm patch on his whole frame. - We need to get out of this rain ... and soon. - he told himself.

Lightning cracked overhead once more, half blinding him in the sudden brightness that left vivid jags of light before his eyes. It was almost enough to make him miss the soft glow that radiated around the edge of a tumble of rocks. Autolycus stopped and shook his head blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. The glow remained constant, and he pulled his stumbling burden towards it, desperately hoping that not only would he find shelter, but Gabrielle as well.

With excessive difficulty, he scrambled over the storm slick boulders and was guided to the tight opening of the cave by the light he could see. Maneuvering Joxer so that they could both squeeze through the jagged hole, and into the beckoning warmth, was a trial, but he succeeded after expending a great deal of his failing reserves of strength. He stumbled to a swaying halt just inside, seeing the gently glowing fire and a fully naked Gabrielle stretched out beside it.

"Well," he smirked appreciatively, "Now there's a sight for sore eyes!"

Autolycus hauled Joxer deeper into the cave and sat him down close to the fire, which was in need of more fuel before it died. He gathered some of the bone dry driftwood from around the cave, wincing as he did so, and carefully tended to the fire making sure that it was burning well before deciding what to do next.

Seeing Gabrielle's clothes where they had been put to dry, he knelt down and touched them. They were a little damp, but had dried out enough to suggest that the bard had been here some time. He turned them over to help them dry evenly, before turning back to Joxer and stripping off his clothes. The 'wanna-be' warrior needed to dry off as well if they didn't want further complications setting in to go with his head injury. He did decide, however, to leave the man's underpants on. Gabrielle was going to have enough problems when she woke up without seeing a pair of naked men to match her own state of undress.

Having seen to Joxer, Autolycus piled together more of the driftwood and sorting out the most likely looking pieces for a splint. With that done, he allowed his mind to focus on the nagging worry of the glow from the fire attracting more attention. They needed the fire for it's warmth, they didn't want it to give away their hiding place. He went and studied the small opening. If he could just find something to block the hole with, it might just serve to hide them from the outside world. Sighing he looked distastefully at his sodden clothing, and, glaring at the storm tossed night outside of the warm cave, he made a decision.

Wrinkling his nose, he squeezed himself back through the hole and searched around the area for the item he wanted. It took a while, but he eventually located a scraggy bush that clung tenaciously to the side of the cliff. He fought long and hard with it, before it eventually gave up the struggle and he found himself dumped onto the wet sand as it's resistance gave.

Biting back a half hearted curse for the pain that lanced through his wrist, the thief, clutching his prize, made his way back to the safe haven of the cave, drawn on by the thought of the warmth that awaited him there. Once he reached the spot, he tried positioning the bush over the hole and seeing the effect it had on diffusing the glow. It didn't totally mask the soft light, but Autolycus figured that if he drew it into the hole after him, he might just be able to cut out all of the tell tale signs of the fire.

Satisfied that it was the best he could do, the thief pulled the bush out of the cave mouth and then backed himself in, pulling the greenery after him until it was wedged tightly. Smiling to himself he straightened up, only to feel a stunning blow to the back of his head that dumped him to the sandy floor with a sudden dizziness that was accompanied by bright stars.

"Autolycus," yelped Gabrielle as she dropped the large branch she was holding and sank to her knees beside the thief, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you ... I just heard this noise as I woke up and ... and I thought it was Brutus and his men."

"Okay, okay," he grumbled rubbing his sore head with his good hand, "It was an accident ... I should have told you I was coming back, but I didn't want to wake you up."

"Wake me up?" questioned the bard in confusion, and suddenly reddening as she became aware of her state of undress, "Ah, what do you mean, coming back?"

"Well," began Autolycus, starting to stand and turn around, "I brought Joxer in here a little while ago when I saw the glow of the fi ...."

"Hold it right there!" Gabrielle squeaked arresting the thief's movement, "You've already been ... you were in here ... you saw me ..."

"Relax Gabrielle," he tried to reassure her, "Joxer's passed out over in the corner, and I've seen plenty of ... ah, unclothed females before."

"Not this unclothed female, you haven't!" she gritted out, "Just stay facing the entrance until I can get my clothes on."

"They're still damp, Gabrielle," he told her politely, "and you really have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Autolycus!" she yelped again, shocked at what she was hearing. "Just do what I asked," demanded the embarrassed bard as she shrugged back into her clothes which, although a little damp, were not really too bad. - Better than being naked anyway, - she decided. When she had finished dressing she told the thief, "All right you can turn around now."

"Great," he muttered and began to strip off his own soaking wet clothes.

"Erm, Autolycus?" she asked tentatively.

"What, Gabrielle?" he demanded more sharply than he intended as a ripping pain stabbed through his injured arm.

"How far ... I mean, just how much ... err?" struggled the bard defensively.

"Oh c'mon, Gabrielle. I need to get out of these wet clothes before I come down with something nasty. Don't worry, I'll keep my underwear on, and I promise to do nothing to compromise your virtue." the thief told her testily while thinking, - Not that I'm not tempted, but the thought of what Xena would do to me kind of puts a dampener on the idea. Besides, the kids alright, but she not a patch on the Warrior Princess. -

"Autolycus, why are you grinning?" asked Gabrielle as she crossed towards where Joxer lay unmoving.

The grin instantly disappeared and he side stepped the question by asking one of his own, "How's he doing?"

The bard checked the unconscious man's pulse and lifted his eyelid, before laying a hand on his forehead, "His pulse and breathing seem okay," she reported, "That crack on his head has probably given him a concussion, his eyes are a bit dilated," she explained, "and he could be coming down with a chill." She sighed, "There's nothing to give him, all we can do is make sure he stays as warm as possible and hope for the best."

"Gabrielle," the thief said quietly, "has Xena taught you anything about broken bones?"

She turned back to look at Autolycus, who was cradling his left arm carefully. The bard saw immediately the darkening skin and the slightly odd angle of the lower arm. The one good thing was that it hadn't swollen much yet, "Why didn't you say something before?" she demanded, worried about the thief.

"There was a lot of things to be sorted out before I could get around to it," he answered almost with embarrassment, "Joxer needed seeing to and the cave mouth needed to be hidden ...."

"Okay, I get the message," sighed the bard as she scooted across to look at the arm, "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a good man, Autolycus?"

"Don't start that again, Gabrielle," the thief replied beginning to go red around the neck.

"Alright," she agreed, "I won't, but you are," she added softly and almost laughed as he scowled at her. Looks aimed at intimidating didn't really effect her now, she'd studied the worlds finest intimidator and nearly everything and everyone else paled into insignificance beside her friend. "Look," she explained, "we haven't got any bandages, so I'm going to have to rip some off your shirt. Then I'm going to need some splints."

Autolycus nodded to the small pile of suitable wood that he'd previously sorted out, "You should find what you need there," he told her.

"Great," she agreed with a pleased nod as she turned her attention to the soaking wet shirt. "If I take the sleeves off this I can use it to hold the splints in place."

"Fine, Gabrielle. You know what you're doing." He paused for a moment as he watched her, "You do know what you're doing, don't you?"

"Of course," the bard replied with all the confidence she could muster, "At least I know all the theory behind it. I've watched and helped Xena do this dozens of times, so I'm sure that everything will work out okay. Besides I fixed your other arm that time with the Amazons," she reminded him, "although that was an easier break to deal with."

"Oh yeah," muttered the thief, "I get to be a guinea pig."

Once Gabrielle had finished her preparations, managing to rip the shirt sleeves into the desired pieces, and having selected the wood for the splints, she turned her attention to her patient's arm, "Now this is going to hurt a bit," she explained, "I'm going to have to pull the bone into the correct line, otherwise it will heal crooked and you might lose some of the use."

"Fine, Gabrielle," gritted out Autolycus, "Just do what you have to do."

"Ready?" she asked as she took his hand wrist to wrist. When he nodded his assent, she pulled on the arm, listening and feeling for the click that would tell her that the bone was back in the right place.

"Got it!" she said at last as she glanced at her friend's face and saw the beads of perspiration standing out from his brow, the look of agony in his eyes and along his tightly clamped jaw, "We're nearly finished," the bard encouraged, "just bear with me while I get this splint on."

She worked quickly, making sure that the injured arm was well supported and wrapped, finally tying the last knot to complete her handiwork, "That's it," she told him. "Why don't you get some rest. You look exhausted." She saw that he was about to protest, but she quickly jumped in, "I've already slept. I'll stay awake and keep watch and make sure that the fire doesn't die on us. Besides I need to bandage Joxer's head."

Seeing the sense in what she was saying, Autolycus reluctantly agreed, laying down in the warm sand close to the fire. Before he drifted off however, he remembered to warn the bard about the Romans, "Be careful, Gabrielle. I saw the ship slip through the reef before I found Joxer. I think it's fairly safe to assume that Brutus survived and that he'll be looking for us. If you hear anything, anything at all, douse the fire and wake me."

Gabrielle swallowed hard and put her hand to the collar at her throat, "Okay Autolycus, she agreed. "Get some sleep and then we'll figure out what we should do next when your rested."

As the King of Thieves drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless, sleep, Gabrielle worked on dressing Joxer's wounded head. She wished that she had some fresh water to clean it, but she thought that the washing in salt sea water would have probably ensured that it would remain free from infection. She tore the sleeves out of Joxer's nearly dry shirt and used one to carefully wrap a dressing, of sorts around his injury.

With her task completed, she put some more wood on the fire and arranged the men's clothing so that it got a chance to dry. Joxer's leather trousers and jacket looked a little worse for their ducking in the sea, but they'd still be an improvement on his normal choice of clothing.

Having finished that, she turned her attention to gathering all of the wood, scattered around the cave, into one easily accessible pile. It was while she was doing this that she uncovered a stout pole. It was a bit too short and a little thicker than she was comfortable with and would need some of the outgrowths of twigs to be removed, but it would serve as a staff and it made her feel better that she was no longer completely defenceless.

With nothing else to occupy her, she turned her attention to trying to compose this latest adventure into story form. Her heart wasn't really in it though, and she had no ink or parchment to record her ideas anyway. Inevitably, her thoughts drifted to Xena and as she wondered where her best friend was, and what was happening to her, slowly drifted into the realms of Morpheus and his brothers.

It was late the following morning before she struggled to force her eyes open. A quick glance around told her that everything was as she had last seen it in the small cave, although the fire had burnt down to softly glowing embers. The cave, however, remained toasty warm and it was only the work of a few minutes to coax the embers back into a decent fire.

Her stomach rumbled loudly. - That's going to be a problem, - she conceded to herself. She licked her lips and tasted the salt tang of the sea there, - And we're going to need some water pretty soon. -

She climbed stiffly to her feet and went across to the cave entrance to see if she could get any idea of what the weather was doing outside, and whether or not the Romans were out there searching for them.

She listened carefully, forcing herself to be patient, attempting to hone her sense of hearing as Xena had tried to teach her. She screened out the sound of the waves and the noise of the sea birds as they wheeled in the sky, - At least that means the storm's cleared, - her mind told her, and concentrated on listening for the sounds of men or a search.

Hearing nothing suspicious, she risked pushing the covering bush aside, so that she could gently poke her head out of the cave and around the sheltering boulders. - Still nothing, - she told herself.

Risking a little more, she edged out further, so that she could scan the beach, both north and south, to check in case anyone was searching. She saw nothing except a beautiful golden day, and empty sands. With a long squint down to the south, she could just about make out the remains of the bireme against the camouflaging background of the headland, but there seemed to be no activity there.

Drawing back into the cave, she made certain that the bush was replaced and tried to decide what they should do. She knew that they couldn't remain in the cave indefinitely; they needed food, water and essential supplies like a medical kit and, for her some ink and scrolls, she felt undressed without them.

She crossed the cave to where Autolycus lay, and gently shook his shoulder, "Hey," the bard said, "time to wake up, Autolycus."

Reluctantly the sleep filled eyes opened and slowly focused on the wildly unkempt bard. He smiled gently and murmured, "Now there's a sight for sore eyes."

"Feeling better?" she asked, checking his head to see if he showed any signs of a temperature or chill.

"Well I couldn't have felt any worse," he replied, "could I?"

"Actually ...." the bard began.

"Yeah, I know," butted in the thief quickly, "after yesterday we're lucky that we're not all down with a fever. How's Joxer?" he asked as he stood stiffly and began to pull on his discarded clothes.

"I was just about to check on him," the bard told the thief with a smile. She knelt next to the wannabe warrior and gently felt his cheek, trying to judge his temperature. He was a little warm, which suggested he might be coming down with a cold, but she didn't think that it would be incapacitating.

As she touched his skin, Joxer's eyes fluttered open and a grin split his trusting, if rather foolish, face, "Gabby!" he said enthusiastically, "We're alive!" he winced as a dull hammering registered on his brain, and he put his hand up to feel the makeshift bandage there, "I think," he amended more softly.

Gabrielle looked into Joxer's eyes, trying to judge if the pupils were acting abnormally, but as far as she could tell everything seemed fine. She patted him on his bare shoulder and said with a grin, "You're alive and well, Joxer ... well near enough anyway."

It suddenly registered in Joxer's mind that the bard's hand had touched his bare skin. His face flared a violent shade of red, as he realized that he was almost naked, "Uh, Gabby, turn around," he said nervously as he tried to use his arms to cover some of his bare flesh.

"Oh, c'mon Joxer!" the bard threw her hands up in disbelief, "It's not as though you're totally naked, is it?"

"That's not the point. You shouldn't ... I mean it's not right ... Oh C'mon Gabrielle! Just turn around and give me my clothes," he demanded crimson with embarrassment.

"You're being inconsistent, Gabrielle," butted in Autolycus as he gathered up the other man's clothes and threw them at him, "Here hero," he said snidely, before turning back to the bard, "As I remember you weren't ...."

"Don't you go there, Autolycus," the bard threatened, "it was entirely different and you know it," she accompanied that with one of those 'looks' that she had learned off Xena and the thief was forced to smother a smile.

Joxer quickly shrugged into his dry clothes, but as he pulled his shirt on he exclaimed, "Hey, where'd my sleeves go?!"

"I needed something to bandage your head with," explained Gabrielle, "It was the best thing for the job."

"Oh, right," he replied, slightly mollified. He pulled on his leather jacket and a smile slid across his face, "You know, Gabby, I've just remembered this really neat dream I had."

"What was that, Joxer," she asked absently.

"Well I was laying in this cave, just like just now, only you were laying on the other side of the fire butt na ...."

"Joxer!" the bard whirled on him furiously, crimson staining her cheeks, "I don't want to know that ... and ... and you just better forget it too! Or else." She turned on Autolycus, marched up to him and glaring directly into his eyes, hissed, "Not one word from you," she said punctuating it with a heavy finger to the chest, "Don't even think about discussing his 'dream' with him, or you'll end up with some more broken bones to go with the one you've already got. Is that clear," she jabbed at him with her finger again, noting the thief's wince.

"As crystal," he answered, "But I still say you've got nothing to be ashamed of," he muttered as she turned away. Gabrielle elected to ignore that.

"Look," she started as they all finished re-arranging their attire, "We can't stay holed up here indefinitely," her stomach rumbled loudly once more. She looked at it when she saw her friends doing the same, "That's one reason," she admitted, "another is that we need water, and then we're going to need some other things if we're going to have any hope of keeping clear of the Romans."

"I can't fault her logic so far," the thief grinned at Joxer.

Gabrielle frowned at the interruption, "Anyway," she continued, "I checked on what's happening outside while you two beauties were asleep ..." a vague look came across her face as the phrase sprung something in her bardic muse, "Hey there's a story in there somewhere," she muttered, before shaking her head and returning to business, "The thing is, at the moment it doesn't look like any of the Romans have got off the ship to start looking for us. They may just be too exhausted from the storm, or banged up or perhaps too many of them got washed overboard, but the point is we should use this time to get ourselves off the beach so we can lose them in the countryside."

"She sure talks a good idea," put in Autolycus with a grin, "I wonder if she does that with Xena?"

"Sure, talking's what Gabby does best," smirked back Joxer.

"Uh, guys. Hello," she said waving her hands in front of their eyes, "C'mon fellas, we've gotta work this thing out."

"Oh, I think you've got the right idea Gabrielle," agreed Autolycus mildly. "We've just got one problem."

She looked at him with a question in her green eyes, "What's that?"

The thief reached out and fingered the collar at her neck, "This little problem here. If anyone gets a look at that it's going to draw attention, it's not your average slave collar," he explained, "And if it draws attention and someone gets a look at that inscription, then we're in big trouble."

"Oh!" she murmured unhappily, "I kind of think that's what Caesar had in mind," she admitted. "Is there any way you can get it off?"

"Gabrielle, I'm probably the best thief in the world ... what am I saying!" he said slapping his forehead in mock disgust, "I am the best thief in the world. I can pick any lock given the tools and the time. Unfortunately, this collar hasn't got a lock and," he inspected the metal carefully, "even with good blacksmith tools, I don't think I could get this off. I've seen this type of metal once or twice before. It comes from some ore taken from rocks that sometimes drop out of the sky. It's the hardest metal I know, it's difficult to work and costs a fortune to buy. Even the rivet is made from the stuff. About the only hope we've got of getting this off you is for Hercules to break it off." He thought about it for a moment, "You didn't happen to send him a letter as well did you?"

"No," said the bard unhappily, "So I'm stuck with it, huh?"

"'Fraid so," admitted the thief equally unhappily.

"Could we disguise it?" suggested Joxer. Both of the others turned to look at him, "Erm, I mean if we could wrap what's left of my shirt sleeve around it ... ah, maybe we could make it look like some kind of necklace ... or not," he finished hesitantly.

"Joxer that could be it," muttered Autolycus.

"Joxer that might just be a brilliant idea," agreed Gabrielle at the same time.

"Aw, it was nothing," smirked the pleased man, "You know, just something we great warrior types have to come up with at difficult times like these. Ya see ..." he started to wax lyrical about his gifts.

"Alright Joxer, we haven't got time for all that now," the bard interrupted him. "Here give me a hand doing this. I'd ask Autolycus, but his broken arm would hamper him."

They spent some time carefully folding and wrapping the black cloth from Joxer's shirt sleeve, and winding it around the collar, hiding the knot behind her hair, "What do you think?" she asked the thief when they'd finished.

"Mmm!" he said waggling his hand from side to side, "It covers the metal, but it looks like a disguised slave collar. It needs something else," he glanced down at the remains of the green material from his shirt sleeves, "Try using some of that to over-wrap the black. The green should match your top and make the thing look more like an ornament than it is at the moment."

Joxer spent some more time on carefully wrapping the green cloth around the collar. By the time he'd finished there was definite improvement, with the collar no longer looking quite as suspicious, and rather attractive in black and green stripes.

"You know, that just might work," admitted Autolycus, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "It's far better than it was anyway," he conceded.

"Well then," smiled the bard, pleased with the outcome, "Let's get going shall we, before the whole of the beach starts to crawl with Romans."

She grabbed her newly acquired staff, and headed for the cave entrance, only to be stopped by the thief, "Let me go first, Gabrielle," he replied to her impatient frown, "I 'sneak' better than you do."

The bard nodded her agreement, and waited impatiently as Autolycus worked his way cautiously out of the cave opening. She heard a cough beside her, "Umm, Gabby?" came Joxer's questioning opening.

"What Joxer?" she asked while trying to keep an eye on the thief for any signs of trouble.

"Umm, well as I'm the warrior here, shouldn't ..."

"No!" snarled Gabrielle, interrupting him.

"You never let me finish," he complained.

"The answer would still be no, Joxer. You don't know how to use a staff well ... I do." she told him firmly.

"But Gabby ...." whined her companion.

"Will you two hold it down," hissed Autolycus over his shoulder, "Geez, it's like babysitting a couple of kids."

Both of them shot him venomous glances, then looking at each other with mutual understanding, turned back to the thief to poke out their tongues and cross their eyes at him, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"I'll never understand how Xena puts up with them," muttered the thief under his breath, "C'mon," he instructed, "The coast is clear. Lets head north and keep close to the cliff wall. As soon as we can find a way up, we'll take it."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That had been easier said than done. The cliffs were almost sheer along this particular stretch of the coastline and it took them until almost midday to find a narrow, difficult gully that looked as if it might just get them up off the beach to where they could at least find some water. A problem that was becoming pressingly important.

Climbing the gully had proven to be tiresomely difficult. Autolycus was hampered by his broken arm, while Joxer was suffering from the occasional bout of giddiness, caused by the bang he had taken to his head during the swim to shore. Gabrielle was the only really fit one, and even she was tired, thirsty and very hungry. However, being the only one armed and in any condition to scamper around, she took on the duties of scout and checked out the way before them.

It was a long haul, but they finally reached the top of the climb, without any major accidents, "Wait here," instructed the bard, "while I go and check on the lie of the land."

"Don't take any chances, Gabrielle," warned Autolycus.

She flashed him a quick grin, "I won't, just keep out of sight until I get back."

She wasn't gone long and she came back with a grim look on her face, "It's no wonder that we couldn't see the soldiers on the beach," she explained in hurried whispers, "they're searching the cliffs to the south of us. I don't think they've got this far north yet, so we're going to have to make a dash for the woods further along the cliff, and then make our way through there. Just pray to your favourite God that they don't spot us before we get under cover," she told them.

Nodding their agreement, the two men followed the little bard out of the gully, and angled towards the north where an extensive forest lay. They made as much use of the available cover as possible, keeping low and clinging to bushes and the odd tree on their route. They almost made it without any trouble, but just as they made the dash across the last clear piece of ground, they heard a shout from behind them and knew that they had been spotted.