Destiny’s Dominion

Chapter Eleven: Journeys and Arrivals
Xena didn't waste time leaving territories that the Amazon's claimed for their own. She had no intention of breaking the terms of the sentencing and so incur further problems from Gabrielle's sisters. Patroclese found the pace hard, but he'd travelled with the Warrior Princess before when she was in a hurry and so had known what to expect. The Amazon guards were hardened veterans. There were six under the command of Eponin and they easily matched the Warrior Princess' forced pace.

Sometime after midday, following a long night of hard riding, they reached the boundary marked by Amazon totems that were there to warn off the unwary. Here it was that Eponin called a halt to the group and fished out the key to unlock the heavy manacles that still graced raven haired woman's wrists. She quickly unlocked them and handed the restraints to one of her warriors, as she watched Xena briskly chafe her skin where the irons had sat.

Eponin handed over the woman's, leathers armour and weapons before coughing softly to draw the warrior's attention, the Weapon's Master gave her friend a smile, "I'm glad things were worked out okay .. I was worried there, for a while, but I should have known that Gabrielle would work her usual charm."

"Know what you mean, Ep," agreed Xena as she hurriedly re-clothed herself and re-placed her armamnets.. "Speaking of Gabrielle .. I want you to make sure that she stays safe. She's in a lot of danger right now, which is why I'm leaving her with you .. don't disappoint me," she warned, a hard edge creeping into her tone.

"We'll take care of her, Xena," promised the Weapon's Master, "You have my word."

"Good enough," acknowledged the warrior as she swung up onto Argo's golden back and waved a farewell, "Take care of yourself too, Poni!" she called as she headed, away from Amazon lands, at a fast canter, heeled by Patroclese.

Eventually, Xena allowed the pace to slow, somewhat, although she kept a wary eye out for any trouble, all too certain that Mavrikios and the other bounty hunters would be waiting for her somewhere. They would know that she would be unable, or unwilling, to stay in one place for long and she had no doubt that there would be fast mounted messengers posted at strategic points around Amazon lands ready to pass the word of her emergence .. it was, after all, what she would have done!

It was early evening when she found the perfect place for a campsite. In a small, difficult to find, valley she discovered a fair sized pond. Being off the beaten track, it was unlikely anyone would stumble across them, unless they were closely following the pair's trail, but she had taken steps to hide their passing as far as possible. Not only that, anyone seeking to approach could only come from the direction they had entered the valley from themselves, and the entrance was a tight winding cleft that a grandmother could hold with a broom.

"Do you like fishing?" Xena asked the healer eying the pond speculatively.

"I don't think I've ever tried it," he replied.

"Guess it's going to be down to me then," she told him. "You see if you can get a fire started. With a bit of luck we'll have something to eat other than trail rations."

Patroclese looked confused, "But you haven't got any fishing line?" he told her.

She looked at him as if he'd just told her that she couldn't defend herself because she didn't have a sword, "You just make sure you get the fire started," she told him as she began to peel off her armour, leathers and boots, before wading into the cold water in her shift.

Patroclese had barely finished collecting the wood and getting a blaze going, when the Warrior Princess returned with four fat trout, "Why don't you see to the horses, while I see to these," she told him sitting by the fire to dry off.

"How did you do that," asked the healer as he started to get up to do what she had suggested, "I mean, that was so quick and ..."

"I have many skills," she told him levelly. But then she added, "However, cooking isn't one of them, so I'll clean these, but I hope you can do something with them, otherwise we'll have to risk my culinary expertise."

"No! I can cook," Patroclese told her hurriedly. He'd listened to some of Gabrielle's descriptions of Xena's cooking as they had travelled to Amazon territory.

By the time he got back from unsaddling the animals and hobbling his own horse .. Argo needing no such restraint .. the trout were all ready to be cooked and Xena was back in her leathers, although she had left off her armour.

Patroclese proved to have many skills of his own. He'd gathered some wild onions, after seeing to their mounts, and one or two wild herbs that he knew went well with fish. The meal he produced elicited a compliment from Xena, who rarely seemed to take much notice of the quality of the food she ate.

Both tired from a long day, and the tension of the trial, they fell asleep early. Xena, however, frequently roused herself to check the perimeter, just in case their camp had been spotted and enemies were on the prowl.

When the sun made it's sluggish appearance, the two were already on the road and heading for a village called Daxion. It was a small community, and so they were eager to welcome the young healer as the village boasted none of it's own .. other than the grandmothers who dispensed herbs as best they could for any given ailment.

As Patroclese climbed down off his horse outside the village's only inn, he turned to the Warrior Princess and offered her his hand. She clasped it warmly in the warrior's grip, hand to wrist, as he wished her, "Safe journey."

Xena inclined her head slightly for his good wishes, "Take care, healer," she told him. "You've been a good companion and friend over these last days. Don't let anything happen to ya, y'hear?"

"I'll be fine," he promised, "Just you avoid anymore arrows." he called after her as she waved a goodbye and headed Argo down the road.

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After leaving Patroclese at Daxion, Xena began to actively cast around for signs of those hunting the bounty on her and Gabrielle. She needed to get their attention so that they'd chase after her and leave the area around the Amazon's safe and free. - It was - she decided - a bit like playing chicken with a rabid wolf! -

The big problem was to achieve her aims in a way that didn't seem obvious to those after her. The last thing she wanted them to figure out was that she was deliberately leading them away from Gabrielle. It required a subtlety and a finesse that gave her almost as much enjoyment as the dangers of battle. - In fact - she conceded to herself, in the privacy of her thoughts, - this is fun! -

Once she had managed to make sure that all the warrior bands showing an interest had begun to move towards the west in her wake, she started to get a little more creative. Things would become far safer for everybody if one or two warlords managed to cripple their opposition .. after all none of them wanted to share the bounty with a rival. So Xena began to 'arrange' for contending groups to stumble across each other as they chased her. The results were fully satisfactory and managed to eliminate several of her hunters.

She did have an added problem, however: not all of the groups hunting her were behind her! There were several newcomers to the game and they were travelling east to where she had been reported to be. Some were a little smarter than others and set ambushes for her as their scouts reported her presence. She managed to avoid at least six of these, and in four cases had managed to lead those chasing her to spring the ambush for her. However, two had been particularly well lain, and she had found herself in real trouble, needing all of her far from inconsiderable fighting skills to get her out of the pot without being scathed. She frowned at those memories, knowing that she had escaped more through luck than skill.

The first time, the warriors had been so certain that their trap had worked that they moved in too quickly and, after a tough fight, Xena had been able to take advantage of the gap that had opened up around her, and dive through on the back of Argo. It sounded fairly innocuous when she replayed the description in her mind, so she could tell Gabrielle about it, but she knew that she'd been within a hairsbreadth of going down and the trap sealing on her.

The second time had been an even closer call. She'd been playing tag with Mavrikios' men, and they'd got a bit close to her tail feathers. She'd sorted out an emergency escape route for just such an eventuality, but unknown to her, one of the new boys had set a beautifully laid ambush in a gorge she'd had to traverse. With her attention on her pursuers, she'd been brought down and netted before she'd realized the ambushers were there!

Of all things, it was Mavrikios who saved her. He'd continued to push on behind her and had stormed into the gorge just as her captors were trying to get her secured. With the confusion created as the two sets of warriors started to fight for possession of her, she was able to cut the ropes, that bound her hands behind her, on a sword that fell close in the melee, and from there it became a relatively simple task to gather her weapons, extract herself from the fighting and retrieve Argo with a whistle.

Shaking her head for the luck that had delivered her, she could only be thankful that Gabrielle hadn't been there, because she was certain it would have taken far more than luck for the two of them to wriggle from either of those two traps! Keeping her senses on full alert, she pushed on.

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She'd been in the province of Epirus for two days now, and it was time for the hunters to lose her trail. At the town of Athamania, she took passage for herself and Argo on a fast looking river boat that had a destination somewhere down in the neighbouring province of Ambracia. To anyone following her, it would send them off on a completely false trail, once she and Argo disembarked in the night and faded away to the south.

Travelling the back hills and the little used tracks, she made good time as she moved out of Epirus, round the province of Ambracia .. where she'd sent her false trail .. through the region of Dolopia to get to the province of Acarnania, where she headed for the port town of Astakos.

About a days walk from the port, she sidetracked into a little backwater village bearing the name of Tassos. She'd been here before on more than one occasion, but rarely stayed longer than was necessary to leave Argo in good hands. Not wishing to become the topic of gossip for villagers who rarely saw a stranger, Xena waited until deep night, when the farmers had long since sought their beds and the village lay dark and silent.

With almost unnatural stealth, the Warrior Princess worked her way around the quiet houses, until she reached the blacksmith's shop. A village as small as Tassos was lucky to have a blacksmith as a resident, but Xena knew that Kolianis hadn't always followed his peaceful trade. He had in truth been a farrier in her army at one point, until he grew sickened by war and sought out the peaceful life in a remote village normally too far off the beaten track to draw more than a handful of visitors a year.

When she reached the smithy, Xena whispered to Argo, "Wait here," before slipping around to the dwelling, where she found Kolianis' window with a sure proficiency that spoke of her having done so more than once. She scratched lightly on the shutters, knowing that the smith was a light sleeper, and waited for him.

"Who's there?" his deep base voice rumbled like a giant bee as he tried to whisper.

"Xena," the Warrior Princess told him softly, so as not to disturb her friend's wife.

"A moment," rumbled the voice.

Quietly, Xena slipped back to where she had left Argo, knowing that Kolianis would soon join her there. She began to remove the gear that she would require for the rest of her journey, slinging a long brown cloak around her shoulders and, after checking through the contents of her saddlebag, she swung it over her shoulder, just as the smith arrived at her side.

"Xena," he greeted with a smile, clasping her arm in greeting, "Been a long time. What brings you here?"

"Trouble," Xena told him seriously.

"So?" he asked, "What's new?"

"Cynic," she told him shortly but with affection. "Can you take care of Argo for me for a while?" she asked.

"You know I will," Kolianis answered her, "Where're you headed?"

"I can't tell you that, my friend. Just at the moment the less people who know where I'm bound, the safer I'll be," she told him.

"Bad?" he questioned quietly.

"Bad enough," she answered him, "Things have been worse, but not for a while," she looked into the smith's eyes, "I'm not sure how long I'll be either."

"No worries," he told her, always a man sparing with his words, "Argo'll be fine 'til you get back."

"Thank you, my friend," Xena told him warmly as she headed into the darkness.

"Luck!" he called after her in his rumbling base whisper.

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Knowing that she'd be able to rest on board ship, the Warrior Princess opted to walk through the night and into the early part of the day, so she would reach Astakos as early in the morning as possible. When she reached the town, she headed straight for the docks where a series of enquiries led her to the captain of a trading vessel actually heading for the town of Narbo.

"How much for passage?" questioned Xena, knowing that she'd have to haggle.

"Thirty-five dinars," he told her.

"What!" she demanded incredulously, "I want to buy a passage, not the whole ship."

"I can guarantee a fast journey," he told her. "We're shipping spices and if I get to Narbo ahead of the competition I'll make a fortune."

"Well then," she told him quickly, "you won't need to charge so much for my passage."

"Money's money," he responded equally swiftly.

"How fast's the ship," she said casting an expert eye over the lines of the vessel and liking what she saw, even if she didn't show it.

"The Gull's about the fastest ship around these parts," the captain assured her with more than a touch of pride.

"Tell you what," she said, "I'll give you twenty dinars."

"Thirty and not a copper less," he returned firmly.

"Twenty five," came Xena's counter-offer, "and if we run into any trouble I'll help out."

"Got any experience," he asked almost insultingly, because he'd recognised the way she'd taken the measure of the Gull in that glance.

"I've sailed a ship or two in my time," she told him in an offhand manner. "I'm also a fair hand at fighting off pirates."

He looked her up and down and recognised her for a warrior to be respected, "Well then, I'd say we've got ourselves a bargain," he agreed. "Name's Bellis," he told her holding out his hand.

"Xena," she told him, grasping him firmly, wrist to wrist. "When do we sail?"

"This afternoon," he informed her. "Haul your gear on board when you're ready,"

"Got everything here," she assured him, patting her saddlebags, "so I might as well come aboard now." She quickly counted out the money and handed it over to Bellis.

By mid afternoon, with the tide running high, The Gull put out to sea and Xena stood by the rails looking back. Not at the port, but far away in her minds eye, to the east where the Amazon homeland lay. She'd been right to insist that the bard remain in safety. She wouldn't have been able to keep them both safe in the scramble to out fox the bounty hunters: it had been a close thing sometimes just on her own.

Still, standing alone by the deck rail, with nothing to do to keep her occupied, the full force of her isolation descended upon her. She felt a loneliness that she was unused to. A lack of something important at her side. In the silence of her soul she admitted to herself - I miss you Gabrielle! -

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The sharp crack of wooden staves punctuated the normal sounds of the village as the session on the practice fields wound down. In her final bout of the morning, Gabrielle faced Eponin, the Amazon's acknowledged expert with the weapon. Even though this bout was more in the style of a teaching session, the bard was having to work hard to keep from being hit by the Amazon's whirling staff.

"Don't carry it so high," Eponin told her sharply, as she stung Gabrielle's hips with a swift blow.

"It's hard not to," the bard admitted, "my usual sparring partner is quite a bit taller."

Eponin ignored the remark as she feinted with a blow to the shoulder and swung a quick reverse to whip Gabrielle's legs out from under her, "You must learn to be more flexible," she scolded, "You need to adjust your style to the opponent you face." The Amazon reached out a hand to pull her Queen up out of the dust.

"That's why I lost to Ephiny and Uri? Because they're smaller than I'm used too?" asked Gabrielle.

"Nope," Ephiny chimed in, "You lost to me because I'm better than you."

"Says you!" scoffed the bard. "I've seen Solari trounce you and I've beaten her every time we faced off."

"Solari just doesn't want the Queen to lose face too often," Ephiny told her lightly, getting a serious frown from the Amazon enforcer, "On the other hand, I'm quite happy to show you just how much you still need to learn."

"Ignore her, Gabrielle," Eponin told her. "You beat the taller opponents because your used to practising with a tall woman. You're also able to deal with their greater strength because you're used to fighting someone far stronger. The problems you have are all to do with opponents who are smaller, attack lower, and use guile often in place of power. As I said, you need to be aware of this and allow you style to become flexible enough to compensate for it."

Looking around the field, Eponin announced in a loud voice, "Practice is over for the day. Time for you all to get on with some serious work."

"You know," Gabrielle smiled at Ephiny, "If I can get the hang of what Eponin's been trying to teach me, I might just manage to give Xena a real surprise next time we spar."

"Are you daydreaming again?" Ephiny laughed, "I've yet to see anyone who could fully best Xena with any weapon."

"God's, has she been paying you to sing her praises?" demanded the bard. "Every time I tell her I'm going to get her back for something she's done to me, she always says more or less the same sort of thing that you've just said."

"Pardon?" asked the blonde Amazon, irritatingly.

"You know what I mean," Gabrielle told her with a laugh, "But one of these days I am going to surprise her."

They laughed together over the mental picture of the event that sprang to their minds. The two had been steadily cementing their friendship in the nine days that Xena had been gone. Ephiny was doing her best to instruct the bard in the culture of the Amazons and how to rule. Things did not always go smoothly, but they were beginning to develop an understanding, in the area, that was gradually improving with time.

They had almost reached the bard's house when she heard a familiar voice call out, "Gabrielle!"

"Patroclese?" questioned the bard in confusion as she turned to see a scout party bringing the healer towards her, "What are you doing back here?"

The tall fair haired young man tried to push past his Amazon guards but they expertly prevented him from getting through their spears. Frustrated, he looked pleadingly at the Amazon Queen and said, "I've got to speak to you privately, Gabrielle!"

Motioning for the warriors to let him pass, Gabrielle signalled the healer to follow her and included Ephiny with a quickly glanced invitation. They hurried to the bard's home where, as soon as the door was closed behind Ephiny, she turned and demanded of Patroclese, "What's the matter? Is it Xena?"

He nodded slowly, almost reluctant to speak now he had the chance.

"What's happened?" Gabrielle demanded, as her stomach clenched in alarm.

"Nothing .. Yet ... As far as I know," he faltered, agitation plain in his mannerisms and speech pattern.

"Nothing? Then what's got you so worked up?" demanded the bard as she quickly added, "And just what are you doing back here?"

"Please just listen, Gabrielle," he pleaded and waited for her acquiescence before he continued, "After leaving here, Xena dropped me off at a village called Daxion. the village hasn't got a healer and so I've been able to spend several days treating the sick and injured and earning enough for food and lodging at the inn, as well as a little more besides."

He noticed that the bard was beginning to become impatient with him, and hurried on, "Three days ago, some soldiers came into the village, one of them needed patching up. From what they were saying, Xena's been heading west. They were part of Mavrikios' force, but when they got cut up by another band of warriors after the bounty, these three decided that they'd had enough and cut and run."

"What's this got to do with anything?" Gabrielle demanded, "We knew that Xena was heading west!"

"I know, I know," agreed the healer, trying to calm her down. "One of those men had a pretty nasty cut across the face. I needed a herb to help clear it of infection, and I went to get it from my kit. On the way back, I heard them talking."

"Go on," encouraged the bard.

"They were talking about the bounty. They said that it wasn't worth the money they got even just to chase her," he licked his lips nervously, "They said that they pitied the poor bastards in Narbo who tried to pull the trap closed."

"What!" Gabrielle erupted grabbing the healer's arms and squeezing them tightly as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. The thought sprang into her mind, "The only reason she's going to Narbo is because of the message you brought her from that merchant."

"Isumbrus," agreed Patroclese dejectedly, "I know," he told her as he saw the look of accusation in her face, "That's why I had to get back here to warn you. I feel a fool. I was tricked into delivering a message that has baited a trap for a woman I've come to admire," he told her miserably. "I thought that maybe, between us, we could come up with something to warn her or, if the need arose, to rescue her. I've got to do something. I must make up for my part in this, even if I was tricked into it by a man I've always counted as a friend."

Swallowing her fear, Gabrielle touched the healer's cheek softly and said, "It's not your fault, Patroclese," her mind was whirling with plans and odd images that flashed through her brain leaving vivid pictures that caused her to clutch her temples as if in pain.

"Are you all right?" asked Ephiny who moved to her friend's side, recognising some kind of problem.

"I'll be fine ... in a moment," Gabrielle told her, although she was grateful for the support Ephiny's arm gave. The Amazon guided her to a chair. "A little much exercis and sun," she tried to reassure the Regent. She looked up at the healer and told him. "We need to get to the nearest port that has ships bound for Narbo, or as close as we can get to it in Narbonensis."

"Xena told you to stay here," Ephiny told her sternly, "She told me to keep you here," she added.

"Everything's changed now, Ephiny," the bard told her briskly. "Xena's walking straight into a trap and I've got to try and stop her."

Ephiny looked mutinous, "Xena knows what she's doing. She's quite able to take care of herself. You going after her might just get her into the kind of trouble she can't get you both out of. You know! The reason she wanted you to stay here in the first place."

"I know Ephiny," Gabrielle agreed with her, "I know. But Xena thinks she's going to help an old friend. She thinks she's left all of Caesar's traps behind her. I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't try to warn her, would I."

"We could send a couple of Amazon scouts .. or I know Poni would go if I asked her," protested the Regent.

"They'd stand out like sore thumbs and you know it, Eph .. at least I'm used to travelling outside the Nation. If Patroclese comes with me it will act like a disguise they're not going to be looking for a man and his .. wife, now are they?" argued Gabrielle persistently.

Ephiny sighed in defeat, before a grim determination came over her. She crossed her arms across her chest and asked, "How many sisters should I ready to go with us?"

"Pardon?" questioned the bard taken by surprise.

"How many sisters?" repeated Ephiny.

"Ephiny, you can't come," Gabrielle told her firmly, "You're needed here as ruler."

"That's your task," reminded the blonde.

"I have another one to perform,' she said to the Amazon, "And I'm not taking any of the sisters, either," she declared firmly. "They'd attract too much attention, and I'm going to need to try and be as inconspicuous as possible."

"Is there anything I can do for you, then, my Queen," was Ephiny's flat response.

"Cut that out, Ephiny," Gabrielle told her shortly, "We're friends. Don't go all formal on me just because you don't like a decision."

Ephiny looked mutinous again, but she slowly controlled herself and sighed once more, "Is there anything I can do for you, Gabrielle?" she asked in a milder tone.

"Yes. Will you please take Patroclese and find some supplies and a horse for me. I'll join Patroclese after I see you back here." the bard told her.

Nodding her assent, the Amazon lead the healer away with her, giving Gabrielle a chance to bundle her things together hastily. Then, with the images she had seen still burned into her mind, she took three sheets of paper and wrote three almost identical letters. She sealed them with wax she softened over the candle flame, inprinted the sels with the Royal Amazon crest and wrote three different names on the outside.

By the time that Ephiny got back, she had finished and was ready to leave, "Can you make sure that these get delivered as quickly as possible?" she asked her friend.

Ephiny looked quizzically at the names and shot Gabrielle an intrigued glance.

"It's a feeling, that's all," the bard told her. "Sometimes I see things. I think that they might be some help."

"Well, it's certainly a mixed group," the Amazon told her, "Patroclese is down by the stable. Good luck, Gabrielle," Ephiny told her as she gave a quick parting hug. As the bard left the house, she added, "Be safe, my Queen."

Chapter Twelve: The Spider’s Web
It was three days hard travel, sun up to sun down, for the bard and healer to get from the Amazon lands to the city port of Torone. For Gabrielle it was a period of frustration and, not to put too fine a point on it, pain as she was unused to long candlemarks spent in a saddle. But speed was of the essence, and she was willing to suffer a little discomfort if it meant saving time.

The pair posed as husband and wife on their journey for, although Xena had done an excellent job in drawing off the warrior bands after the bounty, both Patroclese and the bard thought that precautions were in order. As they were certain that any hunters would be looking for two women, it seemed reasonable to assume that she would pass detection as a travelling physician's wife.

However, no matter how quickly they were managing to make the journey, the crease of worry seemed to be permanently on the bard's features as she tried to convince herself she would get to Xena in time. After all, the Warrior Princess had had to drag half way across Greece to achieve her aims, so with luck they might even make it to Narbo ahead of her.

Yet still the doubts persisted, and Patroclese frequently heard his companion mutter, "She has to be alright."

"She will be," assured the healer for what must have been the hundredth time, "We'll get to her and find her in one piece, I have no doubt," he told her although there was an edge of concern in his tone that belied his words.

Torone was a rapidly expanding commercial port with ships from many different lands. It was a thriving, noisy, bustling place that quickly swallowed two newcomers into its mass with an impartiality that can only be found in such a big town that was indifferent to it's populace. All were welcome here .. those hiding, those seeking. Identity mattered nothing to the city watch .. their only concern was to keep the peace .. however violently they needed to do it.

"We better get down to the docks and see if we can find a ship heading for Narbo, or somewhere close," Gabrielle told the healer, eager to be on her way.

"Um, Gabrielle," responded her companion, "It might be better if we got you somewhere out of sight while I go and find us a ship." He looked into the blonde's green eyes, concern etched on his face, "There are still men looking for you, even if we have got this far without any problem. But the docks might be different ... There could be people down there with a description of you, there just on the off chance that they'll be able to grab you."

Gabrielle smiled and shook her head disparagingly, "Oh come on, Patroclese. Have you seen anyone look at me twice?" she asked him. "I think Xena's pulled everyone away from this whole area who has any interest at all in trying for the money."

"Do you think that Caesar, won't have planned for the chance you might take a ship to go after Xena?" he asked her seriously, "He seems like the kind of man who lays deep plans when he wants something." He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadow of an alleyway as he became aware of a warrior beginning to take too much notice of them.

The man emitted a coarse laugh and shouted, "If she's any good, let me know. I might try her myself," as he grabbed suggestively at his crotch.

Gabrielle flushed redly in the shadows, flustered by the man's obvious meaning, and annoyed that she hadn't realized that she was being watched. Although Patroclese had his arms around her in a 'lustful' embrace, he effectively ignored her close proximity as he concentrated on the warrior who, luckily, lost interest in them when one of his mates drew him into a tavern.

"Look," he scolded as he turned towards the bard, "Do you really want to risk everything on the chance that I'm wrong about this?"

Gabrielle wanted to tell the healer that he was being over cautious, but there had been a look in the warrior's eye that hinted at something other than what he'd suggested, and the bard knew that she couldn't afford to take the chance that Patroclese was wrong. Finally she shook her head, knowing that frustration and impatience could bring disaster if not held in check. - Focus - she thought - Xena's always telling me to focus! - She nodded her agreement and added, "Okay. Let's find a quiet inn somewhere. I'll keep a low profile while you find us that ship."

Relieved at her agreement, the healer guided her through the crowded streets, taking sudden detours if he thought anyone was paying them too much attention. Eventually they came to an inn, set back away from the popular sailors district, obviously geared to cater for the needs of travellers who wished to be close to the docks, without being intruded upon by the raucous sailors on shore leave.

A room was quickly secured with Patroclese telling the host, "My wife needs to rest, she's in the early stages of a delicate condition, and I don't want to drag around the docks while I find passage on a ship."

The innkeeper nodded his understanding and, once the healer was satisfied with the hosts assurances of good lodging, led Gabrielle to a small, but comfortable room at the end of the upper landing, while Patroclese, left for the docks and, she hoped, to find a ship that would suit their purposes.

While he was gone she paced the floor restlessly. He seemed to be taking forever, and she had unconsciously began to count her steps as she moved between the window and the wall, avoiding the small table in the centre of the floor, - One, two, three, four, five six, seven and turn - she counted in her mind, a litany to give her something to concentrate on other than just where Xena was and if she was safe.

Although it had seemed like much longer, Patroclese had returned within two candlemarks. When he rapped on the door, the tension she had been building up inside her was so great that she almost leapt three foot off the ground! She cautiously went over to the door and asked, "Yes, who is it?"

"Me," came the answer, "Patroclese," he clarified, just in case she hadn't recognised his voice. She quickly opened the door for him and he slipped in shutting and locking it behind him once more.

"Did you find one?" she asked at once.

He smiled broadly, "The Perinax is sailing on the midnight tide bound for Elne, which is no more than two days hard travelling from Narbo. With luck we'll be there before Xena." Gabrielle started to gather their things together, but he stopped her with, "We better wait until dark."

"Why not get aboard now," demanded the bard still impatient to be doing something .. anything .. that got her closer to her goal.

He looked at her calmly and told her, "There a far too many people around the docks asking after a blonde bard," he told her. "Getting to the ship at night should help us disguise you a bit, especially if we wrap a cloak around you."

Much as she hated to, Gabrielle could only agree with his logic and be grateful for the fact that the healer seemed almost desperate to make up for his inadvertent betrayal of the Warrior Princess. His thoughtfulness and help had kept her clear of trouble so far, and his knowledge of Narbonensis, its geography, people and their ways, would be invaluable. With a deep sigh of impatience, they settled down to wait for darkness. Gabrielle returning to her pacing, while the healer sat on the bed and watched her.

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

A candlemark after the sun had set, a pair of stealthy figures picked their way through the jumbled, ill lit, streets of Torone's harbour quarter. Patroclese guided them with a surety that soon brought them to the docks themselves, without attracting any unwanted attention.

The Perinax was a large ship, or so it seemed to Gabrielle. It looked sleek which spoke of speed, "With luck we'll get a quick passage," she whispered to the healer as he guided her to the gang plank. She sensed rather than saw his smile in the darkness.

"Let's get aboard," he urged her.

"I hate boats," muttered the bard, at least thankful that Xena had taught her how to control the nausea that always assailed her on sea trips.

She followed Patroclese up onto the main deck of the ship where he motioned for her to wait while he went and spoke to the captain. After a brief conversation, he signalled for her to join him and said, "Let's go below to the cabin."

Gabrielle followed him down the companionway steps that ran under the ship's bridge. He led her to a door at the end of a small corridor and opened it for her, motioning for the bard to precede him. She stepped through into a small windowless cabin that was dimly lit with a smoky lantern. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized that they were not alone. Two, fully equipped, Roman legionaries stood before her.

"Quick, get out!" Gabrielle screamed at the healer as she snapped her staff up to menace the soldiers, "You've been tricked. It's a trap."

The limited space in the cabin was not really the best place to try and use a weapon of the staff's size, but as the soldiers advanced on her, Gabrielle used the tip to jab the closest man, hard in the gut, doubling him over so that she could deliver a quick downward blow to his head to drop him to his knees. She followed through with the swing and used the momentum she had gathered to whip the second soldier's feet out from under him. Covering the soldiers with her staff, the bard backed her way towards the cabin door, and instructed Patroclese, who had stood motionless just inside the cabin, "C'mon, we've got to get out of here."

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle," he told her, a twinge of true regret in his voice, as two more Romans grabbed her from behind and wrested the staff from her hands. Gabrielle struggled violently, but she was no match for the two burly soldiers and she could see, another four just behind them as well.

"Why didn't you get away while you had the chance?" she questioned the healer, a touch of reproach in her voice, "You might still have been able to get to Xena and warn her about the trap."

Ignoring her look and her words both, Patroclese turned to the men restraining the bard and barked with an air of authority, "Let her go. There's no reason to be rough with her."

Realization hit her like a forceful blow. Patroclese was far from the friend he had pretended to be. As soon as the legionaries released her, Gabrielle whirled on him and slapped him as hard as she could across the face, "Traitor!" she hissed at him, now fully aware of his authority over the soldiers by the way they had obeyed him, "How could you do this?" she demanded sick to her stomach that she had fallen into his artfully laid snare.

"No traitor," he protested calmly, "I've served Lord Caesar man and boy, as my family have served his for generations." He looked at her with a tinge of sadness in his eyes, "I regret that this had to be, but I owe my allegiance to Caesar and but follow his commands. You should understand that, Gabrielle. It's not far from your argument about Xena not being a traitor to the Amazons, because she isn't one."

The bard looked daggers at him, unable to refute his logic, she hated him the more so because he was right. The fact that he had betrayed both her and Xena by first befriending them and leading them into traps, was unpalatable to her, but fully understandable considering the master he served.

He signalled for the legionaries to leave the cabin, "The door is to remain locked, unless I give instructions otherwise, and a two man guard is to be on duty at all times." He turned back to the bard and smiled in a friendly, compassionate way that Gabrielle personally found totally unsuitable for the occasion, "Make yourself comfortable, Gabrielle," he told her, "we've got a long voyage ahead of us." As he reached for the door handle he looked at her and said, "If you should need anything, just get the guards to let me know. I have no wish for you to be uncomfortable."

She quickly snapped back, "I need my freedom."

A slight smile played on his lips as he answered, "Sadly that is the one thing I cannot give you."

Struggling further was going to get her nowhere, but she needed to vent her frustration and defiance so she snapped at him, "Enjoy this little victory while you can. Your precious Caesar hasn't got Xena yet, and when she finds out the part you played in this you'll be lucky if you can escape with your life."

"No doubt you are right," Patroclese agreed, "You know Xena best. But I don't think even she will be able to avoid capture this time." Patroclese slowly, almost reluctantly swung the door closed and turned the key in the lock. Gabrielle was left in the confined cabin, knowing that she had been caught as neatly as a fly in a spider's web.

Chapter Twelve: The Spider’s Web
Continued
The Gull finally docked at Narbo and, although the passage hadn't been slow, it hadn't been particularly interesting either. Xena would almost have welcomed a skirmish with some pirates, just to take her mind off of her loneliness. As it was, she was grateful to be on dry land again. Unusually, the confines of a ship had left her on edge and eager for something to occupy her attention other than the nagging concern that something was very wrong.

Thanking Bellis for his hospitality and the fast passage, Xena swung her cloak around her shoulders, as she left the ship, with a cheery wave to the crew. The cloak effectively hid her armour and weapons from prying eyes, and a little bit of caution often saved an awful lot of mending. Besides, Narbo was full of Roman Legionaries. A thing in itself that was not surprising because Narbonensis was a Roman province and supported at least four Legions that were champing at the bit to get into the fighting in Gaul.

However, she wasn't looking for trouble with them, and it was unlikely that anyone here would recognise her. The only Roman she held a grudge for, currently, was Caesar and, last she heard, he was still trying to play Emperor in Rome, well away from her, and any chance of her inflicting the vengeance on him that she believed he richly deserved.

As she wandered along the busy docks, she plucked an apple from a trader's cart and threw him a copper for it, before biting into the crisp, juicy flesh. Enjoying the sights and sounds of the port, she was in no great hurry to find her way to Isumbras' establishment, but as she roamed, she began to develop a distinctly 'itchy' feeling, almost as if she was being watched.

Ducking into a side street, she made a couple of quick turns and doubled back so that she could check to see if anyone had tried to follow her. Finishing the remains of the apple, she sucked the juice from her fingers and discarded the core in a refuse heap at the corner of an alleyway, all the while reaching out with her senses and using her eyes to try to locate the reason for her unease.

Long moments were spent in a futile search that revealed nothing to her. The 'itch' had not intensified and there was nothing to suggest that she was either being watched or followed. Reluctant to mistrust her feelings, Xena could only put her worry down to the problem caused by the bounty and the depth of her loneliness, along with the nagging doubt that something didn't quite add up. She wasn't certain that they were the reasons, but with nothing else in evidence, she was almost ready to credit them.

Taking a roundabout route, just to satisfy herself that she hadn't missed anything, she slowly wound her way back towards the warehouse district of the docks. Stopping at the corner of a street, she dropped a small coin to one of the many beggars that littered streets (victims of the fighting in the area) and asked for directions to Isumbras' establishment.

"Just continue on down the road, lady," the beggar told her in a scratchy voice, "it's a big place with a big sign. You won't be able to miss it."

"Thanks," Xena told him and continued down the thoroughfare, still irritated by the feeling that she was being shadowed, yet unable to locate the source of that irritation. She sighed inaudibly trying to shake off her qualms - There's nothing there, for Zeus's sake! - she swore to herself, as yet again she twisted off her planned path and ran a backtracking pattern to check her trail.

When she found the warehouse, she ducked into an alleyway to observe the comings and goings before she committed herself to going in. She watched a heavily laden wagon, pull out of the huge double doors at the front of the building, that she watched swing closed and heard barred with a heavy beam, that was dropped into place once the wagon was clear, "That's Isumbras all right," murmured Xena to herself, "Always a cautious man with his goods." Still she continued to wait.

At just after midday, a stick insect of a little man, let himself out of a small wicket door that stood next to the big double gates. He had hunched shoulders and the obvious look of a clerk off for his lunch somewhere. Deciding it was time for a little closer investigation, Xena moved stealthily out of the alleyway, and made a quick tour of the big warehouse.

Apart from the doors at the front of the building, and a window on the side, not far around the corner from the wicket door, a peek into which showed the clerks small office with manifests neatly piled on the desk, there didn't appear to be any other ways in or out. Not that she didn't believe that Isumbras had some hidden escape route in case of emergencies, but it was well disguised and not identifiable, even with her practised eye.

Still concerned that things felt 'other' than they should, Xena proceeded cautiously as she let herself into the clerks office through the small door. Taking her time and satisfying herself that there was no one else there, she moved stealthily to the rear of the office and listened at the door to the sounds of men working in the big building.

As she eased the door open, her highly attuned senses began to scream at her to proceed with even more caution. The 'itchy' feeling had intensified to such an extent that her skin began to prickle. Her normally graceful movements, became extra fluid as her fighting instincts took control of her body.

Silently dropping her gear, and the cloak, in the office to give herself full freedom of movement, Xena slowly drew her sword before proceeding further into the warehouse. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary here. There were the expected sounds of a few labourers moving about their business in the depth of the heavily stocked building. Long, neat rows of barrels, packing cases and crates, covered the floor space, each in blocks with walkways between them.

The building was brightly lit, so there were few shadows where danger could be lurking. A glance up to the roof revealed nothing other than a wooden gantry that ran around the edge of the building, allowing workers to find cargo that might be hidden from sight at ground level. To the eye, everything appeared as it should be, but there remained an indefinable tenseness in the atmosphere that the Warrior Princess was reluctant to ignore.

Moving with panther like smoothness, Xena glided silently along the central isle of the stacked piles of goods. Her senses were alive, listening for the sound that would warn her of an imminent attack, and hearing nothing other than the rowdy laughter of the workers. As she came to each junction in the walkways, that crisscrossed the warehouse between the stored cargo, she made a careful inspection both to the right and left, before continuing on her stealthy way. She was unsure whether she was glad that nothing seemed to be lurking in ambush, or whether she'd rather something happened to clear the tension that seemed to crackle in the air.

As she neared the far end of the warehouse, she hung back as she inspected a raised platform that stood against the back wall of the building. Upon the platform stood a heavy desk and a scattering of chairs. Behind the desk was a door, probably leading to a back room and the way up to the gantry, if she didn't miss her guess. Sitting at the desk, seemingly working on an inventory, was a man she recognised. He was older, greyer and more lined than when last she had seen him, but she knew Isumbras as soon as she saw him. She would never be able to mistake the greedy ferret like features, nor the eyes that were constantly in motion, gathering information.

Still unwilling to ignore her senses, that were screaming warnings at her to be careful, she waited and watched for a while. No one seemed to be working in the area near her, but she observed three or four men over on the far left hand side of the warehouse, organising a load that was obviously going out in some shipment. A large crate stood covered by a tarp on a flatbed wagon.

Her eyes flicked up to the gantry that ran around the upper part of the building. If the warehouse hadn't been so well lit, it would have made an ideal place to conceal archers for an ambush. No doubt Isumbras had surprised unwanted guests that way more than once, but for now there was no one hidden there.

Nothing seemed out of place, yet the feeling of wrongness persisted. If there was a trap laid here, it was a well hidden one. She had little doubt that Isumbras would betray her if he felt that it was in his interest to do so, and 250,000 dinars was an awful lot of interest! - Well - she berated herself silently, - You can't stand here forever while you make up your mind. If there is a trap here, I'm already up to my neck in it! So I might as well spring it and get things moving before old age creeps up on me. -

She flicked her eyes over the area for one last time, before moving lightly into the open, her sword held, seemingly casually, at her side as she greeted, "Hello Isumbras."

He gave a start as he looked up from his work, and a smile lit his face as he leaned back in his chair and replied, "Xena! You took your own sweet time getting here." He looked thinner she noted as he motioned her forward, "Have a seat," he invited.

"No thanks," she declined politely as she moved forward onto the front edge of the dias, preferring to be able to move quickly if the situation should warrant it.

"Still as suspicious as ever," he noted with a mirthless smile, "I'd heard you'd changed."

"Not that much," she told him, "What did you want me for."

"Ah, straight to the point, as ever," Isumbras laughed, "Well, I asked you to come because a friend of mine wanted to see you," there was an odd gleam in his eye as he said that and a predatory set to his features.

Xena moved back, senses alive to an expected attack, her sword levelled in Isumbras' direction, but her eyes searching for the men she now knew were waiting to rush her. A movement on the gantry made her eyes flick upwards, to an instantly recognisable figure.

"Hello, Xena" greeted his familiar voice. One that stoked the burning rage within her to a white heat.

"Caesar!" she snarled in reply as she began to weave her sword in lazily complex movements ready to cover any assault.

"Are you going to surrender and save us a lot of time and effort? And you a lot of pain!" he drawled in a tone that seemed to make it clear that it made no difference to him one way or the other.

"I don't see anyone here to help you," she told him, well aware that he wouldn't have set this up without a body of armed men for his own protection, not if had any hopes of leaving alive with her either dead or a prisoner. - Depends what he's got in mind! - her inner self told her. She needed to draw them into the open, so she knew what she had to fight.

"You intend to make this difficult?" he arched an eyebrow at her, his brown eyes mocking.

She shook her head and snarled, "Oh no! I intend to make it impossible!"

"Very well, my men could use some exercise!" he scowled.

"If they're anything like that bunch in Rome they need more than exercise!" she sneered.

"Oh, believe me, Xena. These are good. Nothing but the best for the Warrior Princess." He snapped his fingers and a trumpet blared out a single note. Instantly, crates burst open to spew forth legionaries armed with a variety of heavy clubs, staves and nets.

She shot Caesar a mirthless smile that never came close to touching the cold fire that burned in her eyes. Within an instant, stillness became rampant death dealing action as Xena lashed out at the soldiers who rushed her. Two men went down to a sizzling right fist that crashed from one jaw to the next as she swung in a vicious arc. Another eager Roman got a boot in the groin as he tried to grab her from behind. Swinging her sword around her head she cleared a space for herself as men scrambled back, suddenly reminded of their mortality.

With the mad light of battle shining from her eyes, she let loose her fearsome war cry, "Yi,yi,yi,yi,yi,yi!" before leaping high into the air and landing, perfectly balanced, on the gantry rail, her eyes seeking out Caesar. Now was her chance to avenge herself on the man that had twisted her soul into something evil. Without Gabrielle here, there was nothing, and no one, to hold her back and payment was long overdue.

He was still on the gantry, but now surrounded by a dozen soldiers. She smiled eagerly, her whole being infused with the heat of battle and the certainty of revenge. She was preparing to charge Caesar's force when her senses suddenly screamed at her. Left hand moving faster than the eye could follow, she snatched a shaft from the air, noting that it had a blunt head as she did so. The arrow was meant to stun!

Leaping back she was just in time to avoid a volley of similar arrows that thudded heavily into the wooden wall before dropping to the gantry deck. Xena threw a glare to where Caesar had been standing, only to find him gone. He'd taken the opportunity, presented by her pre-occupation with the arrows, to remove himself as a potential target.

Gritting her teeth, the Warrior Princess made the hard decision that it was time to get herself out of this mess. The warehouse floor seemed to be teeming with legionaries and the ones on the gantry were charging towards her with more appearing from the doorway all the time. Much as she hated to lose her chance at Caesar, her enemy had the upper hand here and retreat was her only viable course of action. She promised herself that there would be another time.

Sliding her sword back into it's sheath on her back, she flipped off of her perch, just before the first soldier reached to grab her, performed a tuck roll high in the air, avoiding more stun arrows as she did so, and landed neatly on one of the pile of crates. Legionaries below her, thrust long staves at her, trying to bring her down. Xena kicked them aside and leapt for another pile of crates more to the centre of the warehouse, putting some distance between her and the gantry. As another staff wielder made to prod at her, she pulled the weapon from the soldiers grasp and used it to help her vault from pile to pile avoiding the men who were trying to snare her.

Arrows began to zip at her from archers who had taken up positions on the gantry. She avoided them as best she could, although her body, arms and legs, were getting struck more frequently as she found it difficult to dodge everything coming at her, she did manage to protect her head, however, reducing the chances of them doing major damage.

Using a new tactic, a group of men clambered up onto the stack of wooden boxes ahead of her. Others were closing in around her as they lowered themselves down from the gantry. Confronted by four soldiers directly in front of her, Xena gave voice once more to her ululating battlecry as she rushed them, her captured staff held horizontally before her to sweep them from the crates back to the ground below.

Using her momentum, she leapt the gap onto a stack of barrels that proved to be, unfortunately, unstable. Unable to hold her balance, she went crashing down with them and took a pounding from the heavy casks as they bounced around her. The fall did, though, give her a clear view of the clerk's office .. one look at the main warehouse doors told her that she had no chance of getting them unbarred before the legionaries would be able to overwhelm her. Once into the office, she'd have two options .. crashing through either the door or window, whichever looked to be the most feasible at the time.

As she struggled to her feet, a double handful of Romans rushed into her path, cutting her off from her objective. She drew her sword with a confident flourish, ignoring the bruises garnered from her fall, and growled menacingly, "Out of my way, boys!"

"Get her!" came the order from a decurion, sending the legionaries in to attack.

Xena parried the first club that slashed towards her, reaching out with her free hand to draw the luckless wielder into a smashing head butt. A sweep of her sword cut through the defence and armour of a second man, laying him open from chest to hip.

She dodged to one side to avoid a heavy swipe, but was a little slow and the club hit her solidly on the right upper arm, making it instantly numb and causing her to drop her sword. She dealt the successful soldier a wicked side on kick to the gut that left him heaving on his knees as he tried to suck breath into tortured lungs.

Ducking, she launched herself into a forward roll along the ground to avoid the legionaries who sought to sandwich her. Instead of grabbing the Warrior Princess, the pair ended up colliding with each other as they watched Xena roll away. As she came to her feet, Xena hit the soldier in front of her with a crushing straight left that dropped him like a poleaxed steer. As he fell she saw she had a clear path to the office door. Not hesitating she dived for the opening ... straight into the heavy confines of a special cargo net that had been slung as an obvious contingency if she should escape the trap within the warehouse.

Net and Warrior Princess, fell to the floor of the office in a tangled mess, small sharp hooks in the netting, catching on leather, armour and flesh. But Xena was not ready to give up yet. Drawing the knife from her boot she set to work to cut herself free from the prisoning mesh. An almost blind panic assailed her at the thought of being in His power once more and she fought with an unreserved ferocity that was incredible to behold.

Seeing that their quarry had still not given into the inevitable, the soldiers descended upon her with clubs, intent on beating the defiance out of her, incredulous that she would continue to fight in such a hopeless situation. Slowly, the resistance went out of her, as her bruised and battered body refused to respond to the unfair demands that she was trying to make on it, until she lay still, breathing painfully and heavily.

Her sight was blurred and she felt groggy as the net was hauled off of her. Oblivion beckoned, but she struggled against it and fought feebly as she felt the cold metal of heavy manacles being fastened to her wrists and ankles. Hands pulled her to her knees, while another grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to stare up at the face of a man who stood calmly before her.

Caesar coldly examined his prize. She fought like twenty kinds of demons and he had little doubt that she would spend her last breath to kill him if she could .. and believe it to be well spent! A soldier approached, handing him her sword which he studied along with the chakram that had been taken from her belt. His smile was like the chill of winter as he looked down upon his one time lover.

Her face was swollen with one eye closed and her lip split in two places. Heavy bruising marred her smooth skin wherever it showed. Her breathing was laboured and her one open eye looked disorientated. - But, - he noted with grudging admiration - she shows absolutely no sign of conceding victory. - In her position he wasn't sure that he'd be able to maintain that air of defiance.

"Well, Xena," he said at length, the smooth tones that once thrilled her, now sent the icy fire of rage coursing through her veins. "Maybe you should have taken the chance to surrender to me after all. I warned you about the pain you faced."

Gathering her fast fading reserves of strength, and ignoring the screaming protests from every part of her body, Xena used her will to force herself to her feet. For the barest second she stood eye to eye with her nemesis, before spitting full into his face. Caesar gave no flicker of emotion, nor did he move, but an unseen fist crashed into the side of her jaw and blessed darkness rushed to claim her.

The Roman general carefully wiped the spittle from his face as he dispassionately observed his unconscious prisoner. - Gods, but the woman could fight - he thought to himself, glad that he hadn't had to face her himself .. not that he feared her .. he just knew that his destiny lay elsewhere other than on the end of her blade. Yet, he'd never seen her match and he privately admitted that she was absolutely magnificent - But far more dangerous than a pride of rabid lions - he told himself.

He turned to Brutus whom he'd given the task of setting the net to snare their game, while the rest of them had kept her busy in the warehouse. - That net - thought Caesar looking at the heavy rope that the cargo net was made from - should have stopped any mere mortal in their tracks. But she almost cut herself free from it's strictures. - "Get her under lock and key," he ordered, anxious that she should get no opportunity to effect an escape.

He studied the battered form at his feet for a few moments, "There is never to be less than twenty guards on duty around her. When you get her to the dungeon, strip her of her armour and boots, make sure she hasn't got any more weapons tucked away," he instructed examining the quality of the weapons he held. "Once that's done, she is to remain chained at all times." He handed the sword and chakram to the soldier who brought them, "Have those delivered to my apartments," he instructed.

Turning back to Brutus he told him crisply, "We leave for Nemausus at first light. I want the cage on a covered wagon with six guards, and another twenty around it at all times." he fixed his second in command with a hard stare, "Make sure that the men know I'll have one in ten of the whole special watch lashed if she gets anywhere close to escape, and I'll Crucify every fifth man should she manage to get away from them."

Brutus nodded, they'd heard the order before and the men knew what awaited them if they should fail Caesar, "What of the girl?" he questioned as he signalled for Xena to be taken away.

"Patroclese will keep her safe once he lands." He watched as the Warrior Princess was lifted roughly and carried back into the warehouse where the flatbed wagon now stood, a wooden cage evident upon it. As soon as Xena was bundled into it, the tarp was used to cover the cage making it appear to be a covered crate. "With that irritating blonde in my hands, I'll have Xena just where I want her." he explained.

Caesar's battered, elite, hand picked, maniple of almost two hundred men, (assembled for the specific task of capturing and guarding one woman warrior) formed up around the precious cart and, at their commander's order, marched back to the garrison barracks where they could lodge their dangerous charge behind stone walls and iron bars.

Chapter Thirteen: The Postwoman Cometh
Chopping logs was not his favourite occupation, he decided for about the umpteenth time. He swung the axe so it bit into the chopping block to keep the blade free from rust. Rubbing his forearm across his brow, he smeared some of the sweat away from his eyes, before flexing his sore shoulders, and studied the replenished store of firewood with a critical eye. Satisfied that he'd finished for the day, he knew that it would be sometime before he needed to do the chore again, - Which suits me just fine! - he silently grumbled.

He held his palms up to inspect the blisters that were raw on his hands and shook his head in rueful disbelief. It had been so long since he'd done honest chores that he'd become soft. He scooped up the waterskin that lay beside him and took a deep swallow, then poured some of the cool liquid on his throbbing hands before allowing the water to gush over his head. Shaking his long black hair from his eyes, he reached for his shirt.

He'd cut quite a stack of firewood to replace the depleted pile in the inn's woodshed. That he'd had to cut so much in one go, was testimony to the fact that he disliked the job and had put it off as long as possible. However, when his mother had started to threaten to do the job herself, he had reluctantly undertaken the arduous chore. - Well it's done now - he thought gratefully. - Maybe I can get Tomas to go hunting with me tomorrow. Mother could use some fresh game to flesh out the stores. - He glanced up at the sky and realized that the sun was lowering, - Thinking of food, - he grinned to himself, - time to get something to eat. - he thought as his stomach rumbled its agreement.

Pulling his shirt over his head he hurriedly tucked the tail into his trousers, leaving a substantial amount sticking out in a lopsided hang. He gathered the waterskin and the small pannier that he'd carried some lunch in, so that he wouldn't have to make himself halfway presentable to go back into the inn at midday, and headed for the kitchen door.

His mother met him with a towel and a bar of soap, "Wash up before eating," she told him lightly.

With a look of feigned patience upon his face, he swapped the things he carried for the wash gear, and headed for the well. There he drew himself a bucket of fresh water and proceeded to clean the sweat and grime, which had accumulated, from his well-muscled torso.

Reluctant to put the sweaty shirt back on, he threw it over his shoulder and, whistling cheerfully, he made his way back to the kitchen where his mother waited ready to take the soap, towel and shirt and hand him a fresh one. "You know," she told him patiently, "You'd find it a much easier if you tackled the chores in small amounts, rather than waiting for things to build up into mammoth tasks."

He smiled at his mother patting her cheek fondly, bringing an echo of the impatient child he had been with it when he said, "I guess I'm too old to change my ways now, Mother," he told her. "What's to eat? I could demolish a whole roast ox."

"Nothing so grand," she told him with a smile. "There's some cold mutton and fresh vegetables."

"Ah!" he sighed irrepressibly, "A banquet fit for a king."

"Get on with you!" she scolded as he gave her a hug. Since he'd been home, he'd done that a lot ... once they got over the strangeness of being around each other after such a long parting. She only wished her other children were home ... but, while she was at it, she might as well have wished for the moon!

She watched contentedly as he sat at the kitchen table and proceeded to demolish the large helping of food that she had prepared for him. - It was good to cook for family rather than just the customers, - she decided, and smiled as he helped himself to more. A sudden thought crossed her mind. - The letter! - She moved with her light easy step to the mantle shelf, where she had put it when it had arrived in the morning. The inn had been busy, and he had been working so well with the woodpile, that she had decided to wait to give it to him until he stopped to eat.

She smiled quietly to herself as she remembered the courier who had delivered it. The girl hadn't been more than seventeen summers, but she moved with an arrogant assurance that would have drawn attention even if she hadn't been wearing such exotic clothing. - Amazon, - had been her guess then, and remained so now. What they could want with her son, she wasn't about to guess, but she hoped that it wouldn't be something to take him away.

As he pushed his plate away with a sigh of contentment, she said, "A letter came for you today. An Amazon delivered it."

"An Amazon?" he questioned in amazement, "Do we know any Amazons?"

She shrugged, she had her private thoughts about who had sent the letter, but she didn't want to speculate when the answer was to hand, "Open it and see what it says," she suggested.

He looked at the red wax that had closed the document and guessed that it was a Royal crest imprinted into it. Carefully breaking the seal, he scanned the contents and a worried frown descended upon his features, "It's from Gabrielle," he told his mother who was showing signs of becoming impatient. "She says that Xena's in trouble and needs my help. Here," he said handing her the letter as he stood and made for the stairs to his room, "I've got to get my things."

She read the bard's message and she felt the blood draining from her face. For Gabrielle to write asking for help, things had to be pretty bad. She sank into the chair her son had vacated and fought back the tears that threatened to come. He must go to her aid, but it would be so hard to lose him again, and yet if Xena was in danger .... "Be strong, my little one," she whispered to herself. "Be safe."

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Pain! Raw blinding agony screamed through her entire tormented being. Throbbing aches crescendoed in waves of rippling red heat that burned her whole body in unrelenting fire. She was alone in a prison of tortured flesh. Caught in a blackened pit that she struggled to rise from without success. Darkness enveloped her and she fought a silent battle to regain the light.

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Sitting under the cool of the shady tree, he leaned back in happy relaxation. He watched the play of the line in the water and waited, with perfectly cultivated patience, for the graceful bow of the pole that would tell him lunch was ready to be landed and cooked. He sighed in total contentment. - This is the life! A hot day, a shady tree and a river well stocked with fish! - just the thing to give him something to occupy the long candlemarks of peaceful outdoor pursuits he anticipated over the next half moon or so. It was all very well leading the hectic life of an heroic adventurer, but there were times when a man just needed a chance to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

As he listened to the birds trilling their songs, and the gentle lapping of the water as the river ran lazily on its way, his eyes were beginning to close in response to a hard morning's, serious fishing. That was when the clatter of metal brought him awake instantly. Springing to his feet, the small, muscularly built, blonde haired man, leapt up and grabbed the branch that grew about two feet above him. With practised ease, he pulled himself into the cover of the foliage and swung his legs up to screen himself until he could see what was coming.

The noise grew more pronounced as whatever it was drew closer to the blonde's refuge. He could see little through the thick growth of leaves, so he used his ears to judge the appropriate moment when the moving noise stopped beneath him. He then showed his acrobatic ability as he swung down, legs hooked over the branch like a trapeze, to grab the figure in front of him. He was just about to plant a right fist in the intruder's face, when he realized who he had hold of and exclaimed, "You! What are you doing here?"

"Hey!" came the reply, the voice akin to that of a startled puppy, "Watch the suit." He said wriggling out of the blonde man's grip, tripping on a tree root and landing heavily on his backside in a clatter of loose metal attachments, "What did ya do that for?" he demanded in a hurt tone.

The smaller man swung easily out of the tree, brushed the odd leaf from his shoulders and replied, "You know you shouldn't come creeping up on someone uninvited like that."

"Creeping," the voice sounded incredulous. "Me? No, no, ya got that all wrong. I was just walking along minding my own business when this madman appears hanging upside down in a tree and threatens to hit me!" he complained as he scrambled to his feet in the accompanying cacophony of sound that marked his every movement. He glanced at the fishing pole, "Think you've got a bite," he said helpfully as the pole began to bend alarmingly, "Do you want me to get it?"

"No!" snapped the blonde as he grabbed the pole and started to work the fish. It seemed like he had a big one and soon became absorbed in the task.

"You're gonna lose it," the second man warned him pleasantly.

"Shut up!" responded the smaller man, "I know what I'm doing." The pole bent dramatically and the line snapped just as he said the fateful words.

"Told ya," pointed out his uninvited visitor unhelpfully.

Throwing the pole to the ground, the blonde turned on the other and shouted, "All a man wants is a nice peaceful day's fishing and what does he get?" he threw his hands into the air, "Uninvited know it alls who ruin the whole day!"

The collection of metal pieces seemed to shrug, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just do better," he was told and then the blonde added, "Go and find someone else to bug."

"Can't," he began, but was cut off by female voice.

"Is this a private fight or is anyone allowed to play?" it asked.

"Hey! How'd you do that?" asked the tin can, as his reluctant companion whirled round looking for the source of the voice.

"That wasn't me ...." he began, but was cut off by the voice.

"No it was me," announced an Amazon as she stepped out from behind the tree where she had been concealed.

"What is this!?" demanded the smaller man, "Is someone out there selling tickets to this place? Is there a sign out there pointing 'this way to the fisherman's retreat?"

"Calm down," the woman said, "I'm not stopping. I just need to deliver this to you," she said handing over a sealed letter.

"What's this?" he asked as he took it from the Amazon.

"It's a letter, dummy," said the second man, "She just told you that."

"I know what it is!" he snapped at him, "it was just a manner of speech."

"Oh sorry," sniggered the walking rust bucket.

"Hey where you going," smiled the blonde as the Amazon started to run off.

"Home!" she called back over her shoulder. "I told you, I was just here to deliver a letter."

"Great!" grumbled the blonde as he opened the seal, "A good-looking woman comes and goes, and I get left with you." He scanned the neat hand before him and swore, "Zeus in Tartarus!"

"What's wrong?" asked his companion.

"Xena's in trouble and Gabrielle wants my help," the small blonde replied, gathering his gear together quickly. The walking scrap iron merchant, looked back toward where he could see the Amazon disappearing into the distance, "Hey don't you have a letter for me!?" he yelled after her. He shrugged in placid acceptance, thinking to himself - Must have got lost in the post! - He turned back to see the blonde heading in the other direction and ran noisily to catch him up, "Hey wait for me, I'm coming too."

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Light stabbed into her brain as she tried, only partially successfully, to open her eyes. The right was swollen tightly shut, and the left one wouldn't open fully .. just enough to let in the excruciating glare from the torches that blazed brightly in the cell. She concentrated on trying to focus her sight, which insisted on slipping between a blurred obscurity and numbing reality.

Finally she succeeded in controlling her vision, limited as it was, enough to take stock of her surroundings. She was in a stone walled room, bare of all furnishings other than the four torches set high in the corners of the cell. In front of her was a door, heavily studded with iron and supporting a barred grill through which came the sound of many overlapping and confusing voices that seemed to roar and fade with no consistency. An effect that made her heave the contents of her stomach up before darkness reached for her once more. She fought, but her foe was too strong and expertly pulled her into its velvety, vicelike, grip. Imprisoning her in oblivion until she could once more break free of its clutches and reach for the light.

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- Patience! - he warned himself, carefully allowing the rope to pay out an inch at a time as he lowered himself, head down, toward the glass cabinet beneath him. When he reached the height he wanted, he deftly snagged the free end of the rope in a metal tie on his belt, leaving him suspended, via a pulley, attached to a beam high above the vault.

With his hands free, he pulled a lockpick from about his person, and searched out the four delicately intricate locks securing the glass panelled, ironwork case to the stand, "C'mon," he encouraged as he probed the first with his sensitive touch, "C'mon, talk to me." With a soft click the first mechanism sprang open, and he moved his attention to the next in line, "Tell me what I wanna hear," he encouraged, as his fingers worked the pick with expert assurance. He smiled a moment later as he murmured, "Halfway there." The third lock proved to have no resistance to his skilful fingers and opened quite easily, "Now," he murmured seductively, "Come to Papa," as he coaxed the fourth lock into abandoning its duty. "That was the easy bit," he told himself dismissively, "Now comes the hard work."

He reached out his hand for one end of the rope that hung beside him attached to a second pulley. Carefully he secured the rope to the decorative ironwork surmounting the glass. With that done, he began to, very slowly, inch the casing into the air, away from it's base, to give himself access to the prize beneath. The work was long and tiring, for although the casing was not inordinately large, the thick panes and the heavy ironwork made it a cumbersome and time-consuming task. He also had to make sure that he carefully curled the trailing end of the rope, as he was well aware that the floor was weight sensitive, and he preferred not to be disturbed by unhelpful guards as he laboured.

After long and careful effort, he had managed to move the casing high enough to be able to reach the jewelled dagger that lay on a bed of purple velvet beneath it. The thief, carefully took the strain of the glass and iron on one arm, and inched the fingers of his left hand down to claim the dagger. His grasp closed around his reward and he retrieved it swiftly, thrusting it through his belt for safe keeping as he returned the dome to it's base, beads of perspiration appearing on his brow as the strain began to increase with the time it took.

Finally, having returned the case to its original place, he was ready to remove himself from the scene of the crime. That was when the vault door opened and admitted the King of Tressia's High Chamberlain, "Now what did he want to do that for?" muttered the thief as the Chamberlain spotted him and yelled.

"GUARDS!"

Releasing himself from his gear, the tall dark thief dropped lightly to the ground, ignored the cacophony of bells that erupted when the alarm was triggered. Showing a nimbleness on his feet, he dodged around the Chamberlain as well as the two guards who had rushed immediately to his summons, "You'll have to do better than that," he taunted them as he ducked out of the doorway, "if you want to catch the Ki.... Ullpp!" and straight into the path of half a dozen guards rushing toward the vault.

Thinking quickly, the thief dived forward toward their feet, bringing the whole lot of armour plated soldiers down into a tangled heap around him. He easily escaped the mess, springing to his feet and sprinting up the passageway as fast as his legs would carry him.

"After him!" roared the Chamberlain.

The guards scrambled up and pounded down the corridor after their quarry. The thief took a quick left turn and heard one of the chasing men shout, "Now we've got him!"

At the end of the corridor stood a window, that opened high above the market square outside the palace walls, "Whoever heard of a vault being built in a tower, anyway?" muttered the thief as he leapt onto the windowsill.

"There he is!" came a roar from close behind.

Further along the wall, a flagpole stood out. It was too far away for him to leap to, but .... He pointed his arm, flexed his wrist and a small metal object shot out, trailing a thin, very strong cord behind it. As the first guard pounded up to the window and aimed a wild slash at the thief, the dark haired criminal sang out, "Yodalayheehoo!" and launched himself off of the cill to swing, via the cord, down to the ground. He turned back to the window and gave the seething guardsmen a mocking salute, before he turned to disappear into the crowds of the city.

The thief took several twists and turns to make sure that no one would easily be able to track him, before he stopped to regain his breath. Ever the vain egotist, he paused to stare at his reflection in a water trough, smoothed his dark hair and stroked a satisfied finger over his moustache. Then a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

He considered his options, and decided to try to bluff and then run as hard as he could, "Hey," he began, "I don't know what you want me for," he said turning to face whoever was behind him, "but I have nothing to ...."

"Relax," a woman's voice interrupted him.

"You're an Amazon!" he exclaimed.

"They told me you were bright," she said sarcastically.

"Look, I haven't done anything to, or stolen anything from the Amaz ..." he began.

"I said relax," the woman told him again, "I'm just here to deliver a letter," she said pressing a piece of sealed parchment into his hands, then abruptly turned to leave.

He watched her go, before breaking the seal and reading the contents, "Whew!" he whistled, as he read through the letter for the second time, "Well, I'm sure they'll be able to sort things out themselves."

"There he is!" yelled an unfriendly voice. "The King wants him caught so he can be publicly disembowelled for his effrontery in stealing from the Royal vault!"

- On the other hand - he decided, - a change of scenery might just be what's needed right now! -

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Light swam in and out of focus as Xena struggled from the deep pits of unconsciousness. Her foggy brain, took some time to clear itself, and she wasn't sure if that was a curse or a blessing, as all the intensity of the agonizing pain that gripped her flooded into her awareness.

- Pain means I'm alive! - she told herself firmly as she tried to establish herself in her current reality.

She was still in the little stone cell and she seemed to be hanging from her wrists. She moved her head to see what was above her and had to fight off another bout of nausea as her vision swam and hammers thundered out a chorus on her brain. - Slowly! - she reminded herself.

Resting her head against her raised arms, she waited until the world stopped spinning and she was sure that she would be able to resist the fingers of darkness that clawed the far reaches of her mind. She inched her throbbing head into a position where she could see that her manacles were chained to a ringbolt in the ceiling above her.

- Okay, - she breathed hard, - So, what's with my legs? -

Again, moving with ultimate slowness, she edged her head forward until she could see the ground below her. Her vision slammed in and out of focus with a violence that made her want to throw up again, but she forced herself to resist, knowing that the heaving wasn't any good for her injuries.

Closing her eye, until things had steadied once more, she slowly forced it back open to look at her legs which were buckled at the knees. - Well at least if I can stand on my feet, I'll be able to take some of the pressure off my wrists. - she decided.

Thinking of an action and performing it was, however, proving to be poles apart in terms of effort. It took Xena what seemed to be an age to get her feet flat on the ground beneath her. Then it took far more time to encourage her tortured, abused, muscles into action. Her legs quivered like a banner in a breeze as she tried to get them to support her weight. But however unsteady they were, it did help to relieve the torment she was suffering in her wrists, arms and shoulders.

The next task was to take stock of her injuries. If she was going to have any idea of what she was capable of doing, she needed to assess the damage that Caesar's goons had inflicted. She took a deep breath and winced sharply. - Bruised, probably cracked, ribs! - she decided - and at least one is broken and pressing on the lung. No puncture though, or I'd be coughing blood. - She thought about that for a moment. She didn't remember coughing, blood or anything else, but then again she wasn't really sure of anything at the moment.

- So, damaged ribs, - she catalogued and allowed a gasp to escape her lips as her head swam violently again. When everything had stopped spinning, she added to her list, - Heavy concussion. - Her legs seemed fine, other than being battered and bruised. She couldn't recognize the pain of a broken bone there, so at least that was something. Her arms seemed to be more or less functional, although she was certain that her left shoulder was dislocated. Everything else amounted to scrapes, bruises and fatigue.

- Could be worse, - she told herself, trying to buoy up her courage. - I'm not dead and I don't think I've got anything a little rest won't fix ... If he gives me a little rest. - She resisted the impulse to dwell on what Caesar had in mind for her fate. He obviously didn't want her dead, at least not immediately, or she'd be taking a cruise on Charon's boat by now. Ergo, he had something else in mind for her.

She gently rubbed her throbbing head against her arm. Sluggishly her brain registered the feel of metal around her neck. A cold ring of metal that could only have one meaning, - A slave collar? - she thought incredulously. - He wants to keep me as a slave? - A humourless bubble of sound, that should have been a chuckle, escaped from her battered lips as she thought, - Gods, but the man's arrogant! -

She had no idea of how long she'd been in the cell, or how long they intended to keep her there. She knew that her only chance to escape, was to recover from her injuries faster than they believed she'd be able to. Towards that end, she slowly began to work on regaining control of her muscles: tensing and relaxing different areas of her body to get the blood flowing smoothly and force strength back into the weakened limbs.

- Caesar won't hold me for long! - she swore to herself. She'd never be anyone's slave, let alone a man she hated with a passion so rare in its strength and intensity. - One way or another, - she promised herself, - I'll escape him! -

Chapters 14 - 16

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