The sea battle had effectively destroyed the bulk of the Carthaginian fleet, but a decision had been made to spend an extra few days mopping up any of the enemy ships that had escaped the carnage of the combat. Although Caesar was anxious to return to Rome, he was aware that his involvement in a crushing sea victory against Carthage, however tenuous his own part, would allow him a triumphal entry to his city.
Xena wasted little thought on reflecting how things had turned out. Three days on from the battle, and she was living in a world of searing agony, trying to cope with a back that had been stripped of it's flesh by Flaccus's whip, and the added torment of being left exposed to the merciless fire of the sun.
She was held spreadeagled facing into a section of grating that had been secured upright to the thick bole of the ships mast. She had been there for three days and two nights now. Three days of searing fire and pain filled delirium. Two nights of shivering agony and dark dreams. As she stood there, helpless, her thoughts continuously returned to the punishment Caesar had ordained for her.
After spending what remained of the night, after the Romans had found them, suspended from the mast .. mostly in blessed oblivion thanks to the crack on the head she had taken .. she had awoken to the screaming resentment of her shoulder muscles which had been tortured by the unnatural weight and pull placed on them by gravity and the manacles that stopped them from hanging down normally.
Her head ached with a throbbing pain centred in her right temple where she had struck the deck as she was pulled off of her feet by Romans detailed to haul her up where she would be rendered helpless. The ache was intensified by the motion of the ship as she swung in rhythm with it and frequently collided with the unyielding mass of the thick mast.
- All in all, - she had admitted to herself, - I have felt better. - She winced as the roll of the ship swung her into the mast once more and she struck one of her tortured shoulders, - So Xena, was shaking Caesar that little bit worth this? - she asked herself. - Damn right! - she growled back in answer, - although I doubt Gabrielle will see it that way. And I don't doubt that Caesar has something far more ... agonising in mind for the morning. -
She had been right about that, of course. She moved her head carefully and tried to rub her long hair away from her eyes with the aid of the grating. It hurt. Any movement, no matter how small, hurt! Sometimes she found it difficult to remember a time when she didn't hurt. A single tear ran traitorously down her dirt smeared cheek, leaving the track of it's passage in evidence behind it.
The sun had been up a full three candlemarks before Flaccus had ordered her cut down. She had crashed back to the bare planking, twisting to take as much of the impact on her strained shoulders as possible, reluctant to take another heavy hit to her head.
Bright lights flashed through her brain as the racking distress of those joints were intensified by the immediate pain of the fall. Biting her lip to stifle the groan that threatened to erupt, she sought to press her hurts into the compartment of her mind she maintained for the purpose.
She was aware of the rope being removed from her ankles, but the raw chaffing it had left was only a minor inconvenience in her current state. Far worse was the sudden rough grabbing of her arms as she was pulled to her feet. The induced agony of the movement and, after a night of being upside down, the abrupt change to vertical, led to a momentary loss of control.
She vomited.
A fist cracked heavily against her jaw, causing the lights to return and flash in turmoil as she struggled against her need to be sick again and tried to focus her attention on the world around her. She blinked owlishly at the livid face of Flaccus before her and realised that he had been the recipient of most of her puke. She allowed a half mocking crooked smile to play on her lips and braced herself for the backhanded blow that she knew she had goaded from Flaccus. - Dumb, Xena, - she chided herself. - Aren't you in enough trouble without practically begging for more? -
She felt the slow trickle of blood as it seeped from a fresh cut at the corner of her mouth and again deliberately allowed the mocking half smile to appear, as she realised that she could disrupt their immediate plans for her .. or at least their satisfaction in them. - Maybe, if I'm lucky, Flaccus will beat me senseless so I won't feel what Caesar's got planned for me, - she thought, and then added, - Yeah and Centaurs might fly! -
Flaccus had glared at her, before smiling a chilling, mirthless smile of his own. He knew what she was trying to do, "It won't work!" he growled at her, "You're going to feel every bit of what's coming to you. Afterwards .. there will be plenty of time for us to discuss the appropriate behaviour of a slave in the presence of a Roman."
She held his eye, knowing that she had made an implacable enemy in Flaccus. The man was devoted to Caesar, and she'd not only laid hands on centurion's hero, but had also caused injury to him. - What had Caesar said? He respects me. - Well Xena saw no respect there now, just cold, hard, determination to break a slave of her rebellious spirit once and for all.
"Bite me!" she growled, her voice hoarse from lack of water.
She winced as she tried to ease her aching muscles. Ropes, passed through the grating, pinned her tight against it. She was bound at the ankles, knees, waist, upper arms elbows, wrists and neck. The restraint around her waist was excruciating where it cut into flayed flesh, as was the one around her neck. She bit her lip and refused to allow the howl of agony to escape her lips.
She had watched as a grating had been removed from over the slave pit and made secure to the mast by thick ropes. At Flaccus's nod she had been dragged over to it, her shirt had been torn from her back, before the irons had been unlocked from her wrists. She barely had time to flex her muscles before she was roughly seized and bound to the grating with heavy rope. Three loops around each of her wrists, elbows and upper arms holding her tightly in place.
Then they removed her leg irons, moved her limbs apart and roped her ankles and knees in place, putting a heavy strain on her muscles knowing that she would, in time be forced to hang against the rough hemp bonds and endure the chaffing it brought.
- Little things, - she thought, - Minor irritations individually, but when taken as part of the whole .... - she allowed the thought to drift as she became aware of movement up on the stern deck. His arm in a sling, only wearing a light tunic rather than the armour that would seriously chafe his sunburnt skin, the deep purple and black of the chain marks around his neck. She permitted herself a quirky smile of satisfaction.
The men of the guard maniple began to assemble on the decks around her, leaving ten foot of deck space clear beneath the rail where Caesar stood.
- The maniple is beginning to shrink, - she noted, aware that she had hospitalised more than a few as well as killing some of the men who guarded against her escape.
Somewhere behind her, a drummer began to beat a steady tattoo. Xena, along with the soldiers assembled to witness the morning's punishments, watched as five men were hustled out on deck and were made to kneel facing where their commander stood. The rhythm of the drum halted.
"These men failed in their duty," announced Caesar, his voice made husky by the bruising he has sustained. "All know the penalty for such failure. For allowing the slave, Xena, to escape these men will be executed." He nodded to Flaccus.
Once again the drummer beat his tattoo, allowing a rolling flourish to orchestrate the show being performed, punctuating each death with a sharp rap on the stretched skin of the instrument.
"Publius Oranis!" Flaccus announced as a man in a black hood swung his axe and expertly decapitated the first of the men.
Xena's muscles strained against her bonds. She was the cause of these mens deaths.
"Lucius Trantares!" continued Flaccus, and the axe fell once again.
It was true that she would have sent them to the other side herself if it had meant she, Gabrielle and her friends could be free.
"Marcus Martellus!" came another name, followed yet again by the 'swoosh!' of the death dealing axe.
- This isn't punishment! This is murder! - her mind raged as she watched the continuation of Roman justice.
"Publius Voranus!" was the fourth name, and death.
- I will not be made to feel responsible for these deaths! - swore Xena, - All of these men treat me like a chained beast. -
"Brassius Davros!" came the final announcement from the list of the condemned and a final head joined the four others on the deck.
Silence washed across the decks in the wake of the crimson river bearing mute testimony to the justice of Caesar. "The sentence has been carried out, Lord Caesar," announced Flaccus.
"Let all remember and learn from it," warned the Roman nobleman.
- I cannot accept responsibility for his actions, - insisted the mind of the Warrior Princess, although her aching heart spoke otherwise, - If I accept this as my fault, I have no chance of ever freeing myself or Gabrielle. They chose to follow Caesar. They knew the risks of joining this detail. He and they must take responsibility! - Her practical brain told her.
She looked up into the remorseless brown eyes of her captor, - Do you ever feel guilt for what you have caused to be done? - she wondered as she expressed all her hatred and loathing in steely blue eyes.
Caesar smirked at her, knowing her to be impotent in her bondage. He waited until the bodies and heads of the dead men had been thrown over the side of the ship. Men derelict in their duty did not deserve the honour of a proper burial. - Another lesson for the troops! - thought Xena contemptuously.
"As for my slave," attention returned to the Roman commander, "her crimes are only to be expected. She is an uncivilized barbarian who knows no better ... yet! However, although I have no wish to execute this piece of property that I went to such lengths to acquire, she must learn a slave's place within Roman society." He looked sternly at his men, "I have little doubt, that even after this punishment, this slave will still struggle against her lot. Men! You must be vigilant against it. You have seen the penalty of failure. The reward, for those of you performing a duty well done, will be a gift of one hundred gold dinars each."
- Very clever, Julius! - she silently complimented him. - The carrot and the stick! You've shown them the price for failure and will buy their loyalty with gold. The consummate warlord commander! -
"The punishment for the crimes of the slave, Xena, will be twofold. She will receive fifty lashes ...."
His announcement was punctuated by the mutters of disbelief from the soldiers who had never seen anyone survive a whipping of that magnitude.
"SILENCE!" bellowed Flaccus, gaining immediate quiet.
"Fifty lashes," repeated Caesar, "split into two groups of twenty five. The first group to be administered now, the second twenty-five to be given at this hour tomorrow. The slave will be left bound to that grating, as an example to all, until we reach Rome. No one, other than the healer, Patroclese, or Centurion Flaccus, is to touch her, unless I specifically order otherwise." He nodded at Flaccus as he moved around behind Xena to executed the sentence of flogging upon her, the drummer once again beating out his tattoo in accompaniment.
Xena clenched her fists remembering the exquisite agony of the burning whip as it tore her bronzed flesh. Flaccus had drawn blood from the first lash as he scoured her back from right shoulder to left hip. She remembered biting down hard, stubbornly refusing to cry out as she endured the assault. She remembered the beads of sweat that had gathered on her forehead as she strained to hold her silence. Holding back the almost silent whimpers she had allowed to escape, refusing to let them grow in volume to become full blooded cries of agony.
And then it had ended.
She had hung shivering from the ropes that held her, drawing deep lungfuls of air as she tried to control her shaking muscles, tried to push the pain away. Tried to endure.
She screamed when a bucket of salt water was thrown over her bloody back, partly to wash the cuts, partly to revive her enough to listen to Caesar's words. He was stood in front of her, looking intently into her eyes, trying to see any cracks in her resolve; her will.
"I will remit the whipping tomorrow, if you beg for mercy, Xena," he told her starkly. "No more pain .. all you have to do is beg me."
Gathering her resistance she mustered the effort and forced the icy glint into her eyes, "Never!" she told him as forcefully as she could manage. The word quavered a little tinged with the agony she endured but her resolve was firm.
Caesar shook his head, almost sadly, "You will have to learn the hard way, Xena. But remember, the choice was yours." He turned away and moved a few steps, before stopping, hesitating and looking over his shoulder, "You have up until the punishment starts again tomorrow to change your mind. I won't ask you again, but I will give mercy if you beg for it."
"When Tartarus freezes over," she gritted out through clenched teeth.
She closed her eyes against the blazing sun, feeling the burns it made on her arms, and the aching sickness it caused in her unprotected head. - Little things, - she reminded herself. She had made him suffer the pain of sunburn, he returned the compliment tenfold.
Patroclese had come to attend the wounds on her back, carefully cleaning them with a strong vinegar solution that had made her writhe with the effort to keep her groans barely audible as the acidic astringent bit deep into the raw flesh that her back had been reduced to.
"The flow's beginning to stop already," he spoke quietly as he worked carefully trying not to hurt her any more than was necessary. He was still amazed at how quickly the woman healed.
"Oh fine," she panted her tone larded with sarcasm, "Well there will be plenty more work for you tomorrow."
"Xena ...." he started.
"Forget it. Not now, not ever," she told him slowly as she forced down the agony.
Patroclese shook his head dejectedly as he continued his work, applying a soothing salve over the wounds, carefully working around the ones that really needed stitching, but unable to treat them because the resumption of the punishment on the morrow would just rip them out, "You need to drink," he told her, holding a flask to her lips.
She nearly choked on the fiery spirits as they burned their way down her throat, firing her blood, giving her a little extra strength, "I think I would have preferred water," she told him.
"That's next," he said holding up a skin and allowing her to drain what she wanted from it, "You also need to eat." She nodded acceptance and swallowed her pride as he spoon-fed her the gruel that passed for breakfast on the ship. "I'll be back to check on you," he promised.
Leaning her head against the grating, Xena sought for a way to relax. She knew that she had put up a good performance through that first day, even when Flaccus had added the rope ties around her neck and waist that had made her whimper involuntarily at the added stress it placed on her wounds.
The next day, - Yesterday, - her mind told her, had been far worse.
She'd had all night to think about what the coming day would bring. The anguish that her pulverised back had felt, screamed out against a renewed assault. She had an option. She could crawl to Caesar and avoid the pain, but that act would cut her heart and soul to ribbons.
She had not begged for mercy, and Caesar, via Flaccus, had given none. After the rope around her neck and waist had been removed, reopening the partially healed cuts, the flogging began again. This time the lash strokes ran from her left shoulder to her right hip, crossing the lacerations from the day before and burning like molten lava.
Her screams had started early. She tried to fight them down, but it was too much. Each lash wrung a response from her throat and tears had streamed unchecked .. uncheckable, down her finely sculpted cheeks.
She thought that she'd passed out before they reached the halfway point of the punishment. They had revived her with a bucket of seawater dashed over the wounds on her back, and then continued with the flogging, although she quickly succumbed to insensibility once more. She knew she remembered nothing after that, until she heard Patroclese's voice as he finished his ministrations. While she had been unconscious, he stitched what he could of her remaining skin back together and had done his best to ease her agony with a cool, numbing salve.
When Flaccus had put the ropes back around her neck and waist, she had surrendered to oblivion once more.
Now, after three days of hunting the remnant of the Carthaginian fleet, they were again turning for Rome. "Another three days," she had heard someone saying, "and we'll be home."
She sighed in weary resignation. Her chances for making an escape, once Caesar had her in Rome, would diminish significantly. There was nothing she could do about it. She was completely powerless, a situation she hated with all her being. Yet tied and helpless as she was, she couldn't help but hope, that somehow, someway, a chance would come.
As she stood beneath the blazing sun, thoughts of Gabrielle filled her mind and lulled her into a waking dream. She almost felt she could hear her gentle bard's voice as the sea breeze blew a welcome respite across her hot tired body. But, as she listened to the silent words a frown etched itself onto her brow.
"Not your fault, Gabrielle," she murmured in her half conscious state, "Never your fault." A smile played over her lips as she whispered, "I love you too, Gabrielle."
As soon as the news became known, it was decided that Eponin should return to 'Wave Dancer' and see if she could get a look at Xena as she was brought off of Veranius's ship. Although the rest of the fleet would dock at the lower wharves, outside the Servian Walls, the flagship carrying the Admiral and Caesar would moor not too far away from where Nebula's ship lay and offer a good chance to see what shape the Warrior Princess was in, for no one had any doubt that Caesar would have kept her close to him.
The Weapons Master stood at ease on the deck of the ship, leaning on the rail and talking quietly with the pirate captain, "You know, Nebula, Ephiny really wanted to come down here with me, but there was no way we could find an excuse for her to do so," she sighed, "Besides which, she had too stay at Pompey's palace to make sure that Gabrielle and Xena's brother, Toris, stayed put. They're both going out of their minds with worry."
"Their descriptions are plastered all over the city," the tall, dark, pirate told her. "You make sure that they all stay well hidden. That palace is probably the only safe place in Rome for them at the moment." She glanced up at the crowsnest where one of the Amazon's was keeping watch for the arrival of the fleet, "Anything?" she called.
"Nothing," came the reply, followed by, "Wait a minute .. Yes! They're just clearing the bend. The lead ship should reach here shortly."
"I hope she's okay," murmured Eponin showing signs of agitation, "Gabrielle is really jittery and she might do something stupid if she thought Xena was in real trouble."
Nebula sighed, "Caesar is not known for his mercy, and Xena hasn't got the reputation of someone who bends willingly to the command of others. I suspect that mixing the two is a recipe for disaster, and Caesar's got the strongest hand to play."
Frowning, the Weapons Master leaned as far over the rail as she could manage, trying to get a glimpse of Veranius' ship, "I can see it," she announced, "By the gods that's a big boat!" she exclaimed as she watched the trireme approach, oars rising and dipping to the beat of the drum heard through the bowels of the ship even at a distance.
As it came closer, Nebula frowned, "There's something wrong with the base of the mast," she told Poni, intrigued by the sight, "No," she amended, "they've got a grating up against it and it looks like they've got someone lashed to it."
"One of the Carthaginians, perhaps?" hazarded Eponin, although a sinking feeling she told her just who it was.
"Tall woman, black hair," informed the pirate.
"Oh gods. That's got to be Xena." muttered the Amazon in concern.
They waited, watching with stark interest as the big ship came ever closer. Across the river, they could see the men, women and children lining the banks to cheer their heroes home. Those on board the 'Wave Dancer' only had eyes for the woman bound to the grating.
"Sweet Artemis," whispered Eponin in utter disbelief, "Look at her back!"
As the trireme moved past them, the evidence of the brutal flogging that the Warrior Princess had taken was graphically illustrated by the crusted scabbing that covered her whole back. The occasional trickle of blood could be seen, caused when motion cracked open a healing cut.
"Poseidon's beard!" returned Nebula, incredulously, "I've never seen anyone survive something like that. I wonder how long ago it happened." She shook her head trying not to contemplate the pain involved.
"I'd better get back and let Ephiny .. and Gabrielle, know that they've arrived ... and just what's been done to Xena." She gave Nebula a questioning look.
"Don't worry, I'll follow her to find out just where they're taking her. I probably won't stand out as much as your Amazons," the pirate grinned.
"Be careful," cautioned Eponin.
"Always," the grin widened, "Just ask the big fella!"
"Can't," smiled back Eponin with a glint in her eyes, "Eph's banned me from going anywhere near him." As Nebula raised a questioning eyebrow she added, "Seems I make him nervous."
She left the ship quickly, wanting to get back to Pompey's palace before the streets became impassable.
Xena was aware of the ships entry into the River Tiber. Even bound as she was she could see and hear the throngs of people that lined the banks to cheer for their hero, Caesar and the successful Admiral, Veranius. She felt mildly repulsed by the unquestioning support these people gave her enemy. - Don't they realise that he's using their backs to climb to power? - she asked herself, feeling angry contempt for the masses and their blind ignorance. - He cares nothing for them or anyone! His only love is power! -
Once the ship had started travelling up the wide river, Flaccus had released the ropes that bound her legs, waist and neck, "You'll be needing to use your legs so you might as well get some feeling back into them," he'd told her tonelessly.
The muscles spasmed violently and painfully as they were released and it was a toss up which hurt more, her legs or the raw patches on her back as the scabbing was disturbed by the removal of the ropes. - At least there's no infection, Patroclese did a good job, - she acknowledged. Truth to tell, the agony of her back had receded over the days to a harsh throbbing, - Either I've become used to the pain, or I'm healing pretty quickly, - she guessed. Whatever the reason, she knew she was lucky to be alive. Most other men or women would never have survived.
Slowly, she worked on tensing and relaxing her legs to get some feeling and control back in them. She knew it would take some time, which was why Flaccus had cut them loose. She didn't relish the anguish that she would have to endure when they released her arms. She guessed that it wouldn't happen until Caesar was ready to disembark, and she would be given no time to get any use back into them before she was chained once again.
As the ship moved slowly to its designated mooring place in the upper wharf, Xena was almost certain that she caught sight of a familiar face on one of the ships already there. - Eponin? - her mind queried, - Surely not! What would she be doing here? -
Sailors running around the deck obscured her view of the ship where she had seen the woman she believed to be the Amazon Weapons Master and, by the time she had an unobstructed view once more, whoever it was had gone. But she locked eyes with a tall, striking woman, full of confidence and dark good looks, and her eyes seemed to sympathise with her plight and say, - I know who you are, - yet Xena knew that she had never met whoever it was before in her life.
Her mind had been so intent on concentrating on the woman and her ship, that she failed to register the fact that Flaccus had spoken to her. Two sharp blows, one to each biceps with his vine staff, jerked her attention back sharply, forcing her to stifle a yelp of pain as her sun blistered arms seared on her locked muscles.
"You will learn to pay attention, slave," he growled as he took a firm grip of her hair and turned her head towards him, "If you show any sign of your tricks when we get off this tub, I'll have you staked out for a week, and then I'll have the rest of your hide off of you. You got that?" he demanded slamming her head against the grating for emphasis.
Xena's nodded reply was not acceptable.
"I said have you understood," he demanded once more and again slammed her head against the thick wood of the grating.
Wincing from the shooting stabs of agony that travelled up her lacerated back and into the newly created wound on her head that was starting to bleed, Xena forced out a soft, "Yes."
"I didn't hear you, slave," Flaccus told her as he banged her head down again, "Now say it again, louder."
"Yes, I understand," she said in a stronger voice.
"Sir," he said in a firm commanding voice, again smashing her head into the wood.
"What?" she questioned in slightly hazy confusion as the incessant pounding on her skull began to take it's toll.
"Yes, I understand, sir," he insisted cracking her head hard onto the grating once more.
"Yes, I understand .. sir," she repeated dully.
"Good, I'm glad we've got that settled. You're slow at learning, slave, but I've got all the time I need to educate you .. and your friend."
He saw the sudden tenseness in her frame as his words registered and recognised the fire that flashed in her eyes as a rekindling of her rebellious nature, "Keep your hands off her, Flaccus," her voice, settled into it's lowest, deadly, register, warned him.
"You're backsliding, slave," Flaccus returned, a note of mock regret in his words, followed by half a dozen heavy numbing blows to the backs of her thighs, "Now what do you say?"
"Go to Hades!" she snarled with venom.
"Wrong answer," he replied with exaggerated patience, once again beating her legs with his staff. "You keep this up and that little bard is going to be a mass of welts from head to heels," he warned, "So I'll ask you again. What do you say?"
He watched as Xena, breathing heavily against the burning agony of her injuries, forced her stubborn will back down. She swallowed a couple of times before forcing out the words that brought bile to her mouth, "I beg forgiveness."
"Sir," reminded Flaccus almost gently.
Taking a shuddering breath and screwing her eyes shut against the humiliation she repeated, "I beg forgiveness, sir," self-deprecation in every line of her body.
"Much better," Flaccus almost purred, "and as a reward, I'll let you off of that thing early, so long as you sit quietly and behave yourself. What do you say to that?"
Xena knew the technique. She'd used it herself often enough in her past. Inflict unbearable pain until you got the concession you wanted from the prisoner, and then give a reward. After the overly harsh treatment the merest relief from the torture seemed like an act of great compassion and kindness, bringing gratitude from the sufferer, who moved one step close to total subservience. Xena knew the game, yet still she felt the gratitude well up within her at the thought of being let off the grating a mere candlemark or so early.
She forced her will to stamp on that feeling, - I will not be broken like some animal, - her mind flared, - But I need to make him think he's winning. Perhaps, then, he'll leave Gabrielle alone. - "Thank you .. sir," she managed to grate out without it sounding full of sarcasm. She loathed herself for doing it, but would do whatever she could to protect the bard.
It had been a long while since they had used Gabrielle as a direct threat, but now that she was within their reach, the threat had potency once more and could be used to whip the Warrior Princess into line, with far better results than applying the physical lash to her would bring.
"There's a good girl," Flaccus chuckled as he held his hands out, to a waiting guard, for the heavy leg irons with the long chain between the cuffs. He knelt down and quickly locked them into place. Next came the leather belt, the Centurion reached around her and then tightened the three stiff buckles behind her back, making her gasp at the fiery torment the leather raised.
With a sharp dagger he cut the bonds on first the right arm and then the left, both falling limply to her sides. After six days of being held in one place, the muscles had grown stiff, set, and unresponsive. The sudden change of position brought tears to Xena's eyes as lancing pain shot through her arms.
Lifting each of her unresponsive hands in turn, Flaccus locked the manacle cuffs around her wrists, before taking the collar chain being offered by a third guard, and locking it firmly to the metal about her neck, "Sit," he instructed firmly, and smiled grimly as the woman sunk onto the deck after a moments hesitation. He waited until the grating had been removed before locking the leash around the mast, "The healer will be along to check your wounds and feed you. Make sure you behave yourself," he warned, poking her with the toe of his boot when she failed to respond.
Drawing another deep breath, she answered dully, "Yes .. sir."
"Far better," approved Flaccus as he turned to go, "Keep a close eye on her, a griffin doesn't change it's feathers overnight."
Xena squeezed her fists closed and looked blue eyed murder at Flaccus's retreating back. She could and would endure what she had to keep Gabrielle from harm. - But someday, Flaccus, you and I are going to have a short conversation in a dark corner. -
From her vantage point at the ships prow, where she appeared to be doing some work on the ship's lines, Nebula had watched the confrontation between Xena and Flaccus. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she recognised what was being done. She had involuntarily winced and flinched at each strike of the centurion's staff as it had hit the abused woman, and each time he had slammed her head against the heavy grating. With the pain from her existing wounds, the pirate failed to comprehend how she managed to resist the demands being made on her for as long as she did.
She shook her head and muttered, "Ephiny's not going to like it when I tell her what I've seen." She looked around the ship at her six borrowed crew members. Each of them bore a grim look on their faces, moving tensely as if ready to throw themselves into a fight. If their reactions were anything to go by, the rest of the Amazon's were going to be fighting mad, and the rescued Queen ready to go to war to recover her friend, "Hercules isn't going to be too happy either," she mused quietly. "Ah, Nebula, you old pirate, how do you manage to get yourself into these things?" she asked herself with something of a mocking chuckle.
Artemis stared over her shoulder, "She's tough. The only thing keeping her from breaking that centurion in two is the fear that Caesar's still got my Amazon Queen to threaten her with. As soon as she knows Gabrielle is safe, those Romans are going to find out just what one Greek woman can do."
"It still sucks, ya know?," shrugged the Goddess of Love, "I mean the Warrior Babe and me have never been close ... fact is she's interfered with some way cool arrangements I've had going. But Herc's kinda gone on her, so she can't be all bad. And she really knows how to yank Ares' chain ...."
"'Dite what are you rambling on about?" demanded Artemis impatiently. She was rewarded with a sisterly glare.
"It's just so uncool," she pouted, "Why don't we just ...."
"No way, 'Dite. We go interfering down there and Ares will know. We can't do anything yet, but we'll have a chance to play too soon." grinned the goddess with the chestnut hair, her face suddenly seeming very young.
"Grody! That's a real bummer. I hate just watching," grumbled Aphrodite moodily.
"Just chill out a little, sis. Things will work out fine ... so long as Ares doesn't work out that Herc's in on the gig," she added as an after-thought.
"Yeah well you better hope so, 'cause I happen to know that our muscular bro has a thing about the Warrior babe, and I'd be really bummed out if he got wasted over this. Hera's been way, way not fair to ol' Hercola and he doesn't need more negative vibes."
"Don't worry so much, 'Dite. We'll be there for him, and more importantly for her too. I want her to know who she's gonna owe a big favour to."
"Just remember I'm doing this more for Herc than anything else," warned the Goddess of Love, who really did care for her half-mortal brother.
Ares stood hunched over his own scrying bowl. His interest entirely focused on Xena. He had not been pleased with the punishment that Caesar had deemed to inflict on his favourite, but the more he thought about it the more certain he became that he could use the Warrior Princess's pain and hatred to return her to the proper place at his side, "After all, it was largely thanks to dear Julius that I had ten years of service from the greatest Warlord ever," he grinned happily. "I'm sure we can encourage history to repeat itself."
He brooded thoughtfully as he thought about the possible problems and implications that his direct interference would raise, particularly with Caesar, "Oh well, the arrogant pup can be taught a lesson or two and Pompey is far more ... respectful. It might be just as well to give Julius something to think about ... let him know just where his allegiance should lie. Pompey will prove quite useful in accomplishing that."
His eyes flickered back to the images of Xena being tormented by Flaccus, "Soon, my sweet!" he promised, "You need just a little more fire, just a spoonful more rage before you'll be willing to listen to my offer."
Eponin had jogged from the wharves to the Forum Boarium, then she'd had to push her way through the gathering, excited crowds that were beginning to assemble there before she could make her way along the quieter Vicus Aesculeti and from there was able to cut through some back streets to get to Pompey's palace.
She'd been chewing over the problem of just what she could and should tell Ephiny and Gabrielle, knowing that the likely reaction from her young, feisty Queen was going to be explosive. What she needed to do was get Ephiny alone so that she could sketch out the situation to her first and work out the best way to handle the bard.
The Roman guards ignored her as she took the marble steps two at a time, heading for the palace's entrance hall. From there she ran along the polished floor, putting the brakes on to skid to a halt outside of a double-doorway that led into another high domed hallway, with a long, broad double-banistered stairway that wound it's way to the upper apartments where she knew that she'd find the Regent.
Gabrielle paced the length of the long throw rug that stretched from the end of the bed to comfortable looking lounging seat that Ephiny sat on. - Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, turn, - she counted silently to herself, too lost in her worries to note either the long dimension of the rug, or the large proportions of the room.
Her anxiety stemmed from her desperate need of news of Xena. She fingered the hated collar at her neck as she paced out the length of the rug to the bed end, before turning to make her way back to where the blonde-haired Amazon sat watching her with a worried frown on her face. The bard ignored her.
- What's taking Eponin so long? - she asked herself for what seemed the hundredth time, - Surely the fleet's in by now. Why hasn't she come back and told me what's happening? - She stopped in mid-stride, her eyes widening as a wave of unreasoning fear hit her, - She hasn't come back because she's seen something really bad. Maybe Xena's dead and Poni's trying to avoid telling me! -
"Gabrielle?" Ephiny said concerned as she saw a wave of panic sweep over her friend, "What's the matter? Gabrielle?" she started to stand to go over to the younger woman.
"I've got to go," the bard said suddenly. "I need to see if she's alright."
"Gabrielle," the Regent said calmly, reaching out a strong hand to restrain the younger woman, as she tried to brush past and head for the doors. She tightened her grip when the bard tried to shake her off, and placed herself firmly in front of her Queen, securing a hold on her other arm as she did so, "You know you can't do that, you know all the reasons why you have to stay here, that collar not being the least of them. You won't do yourself, Xena or any of the rest of us any good if you just rush off and get caught. They're still looking for you, you know."
A wild gleam flashed in the bard's eyes. "Perhaps if Hercules tried again?" she pleaded, "He might be able to break it open if he had another try, and then I wouldn't be so noticeable. I could go and look for myself."
"Gabrielle, stop that!" Ephiny commanded firmly. "If I have to call the guards in to restrain you, I will," she warned her friend.
"You wouldn't do that, Ephiny," the honey blonde said with an almost frantic desperation.
"Wouldn't I?" came the flat reply, "There's too much at stake here to risk you throwing all our hard work away because you're not mature enough to wait for Eponin to get back here with the news."
Drawing a deep breath Gabrielle forced herself to get a grip, "That's not fair, Eph. You have no idea what he's been doing to her."
"Neither do you," the Regent replied gently, "Let's just wait to hear what Poni has to say. We've managed to get you and the others back in one piece, don't ruin everything now. What would Xena say if you allowed yourself to get caught again?" she asked.
"I know ... you're right," agreed the bard dejectedly, "But, Eph, for days now I've had this feeling that something's very wrong .. and just now, I felt ..." she threw her hands up in frustration, "Oh, I don't know what I felt, but I know she's in trouble." She slumped into the seat that the Amazon had just vacated and chewed moodily on a thumb nail.
"Gabrielle, even if you got past me, past the Amazon guards and Pompey's guards, both sets of whom have got orders to stop you, Toris and the others from leaving the palace, what do you think you were going to do?" asked the Regent gently, knowing her friend was a frazzled bundle of nerves.
"I ... I could ... O, Gods Eph, I don't know, something, anything! This just sitting waiting is driving me nuts!" growled the bard.
"Fat lot of sitting you've done so far," laughed Ephiny lightly, "You've just about worn a hole in that rug!"
"Oh, Ephiny, I know. I just can't settle." she gave the Amazon a weak smile, "At least when Joxer, Autolycus and me were running from Brutus's men I didn't have time to brood ... well not much time," she conceded.
The Regent sat down beside the young woman and put a friendly arm around her shoulders, "It will be alright, Gabrielle. It may take us a little time, but we'll get her back." She looked deeply into the troubled misty green eyes, "Hey, what chance does Caesar stand against a demi-god, a whole bundle of Amazons, a master thief, a hunter, a .. a ..."
"A Joxer," grinned the little Queen.
"Yeah, a Joxer, an ex-warlord's amazingly look-alike brother and a very, very determined bard. Hey," she gave the smaller woman a quick hug, "he's got a representative section of Greece up against him, and he's not going to know what hit him."
"Thanks Eph," smiled the bard.
"For what?" grinned back the Amazon.
"For caring. For being here. For helping Xena. I know you must still have worries after ...." she was interrupted by a finger against her lips.
"Shhh! Gabrielle. As I said before, I owe Xena my life several times over, what's more I owe her the life of my son, and the whole Amazon Nation owes her it's existence. Where would I be but here to help her when she needs it?"
Toris lay on the bed where a black cloud of gloomy despondency seemed to hang above him as he tried to block out the quiet conversation of the other men in residence in the room. When they had been marched into Rome in the dead of night, he had expected to be locked up in a dungeon, and his expectations hadn't been disappointed. He sighed as he thought about the past few days.
When they had been brought in, they'd been locked into a big cage-like cell. The guards had cut them loose from the rope bonds that had been used to secure them, and Autolycus had been confident that he could have them out of the cell in no time flat if they had been left alone for just a short while.
However, the chance never came. Four guards remained outside the cell the whole time they were in there. Admittedly, they were more interested in their dice game than their prisoners, but while they were posted there, the thief had no chance of opening the lock without being spotted and an alarm being raised.
They had been in there less a candlemark when the guards brought around a small loaf of bread for each of them, and a bowl of thin turnip soup. All of them had tasted finer fare, but they were hungry and the warmth of the soup was welcome in the dampness that seemed to permeate all dungeons as an essential element of their existence.
Finally the five of them had settled down for some sleep, knowing that exhaustion would make escape from captivity all the more difficult. They had insisted that Gabrielle take the bench, the rest of them had just found a patch of stone floor for themselves and huddled against the chill.
Toris knew that he hadn't been asleep long when he was disturbed by some kind of commotion at the prison door. He edged up onto his elbow and noted that the others were showing signs of interest in what was happening. All of them were alert as a proud looking Roman noble walked in with two women dressed in the exotic garb of Amazons.
"Ephiny?" he heard Gabrielle question softly, disbelief evident in her tone. The bard had scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the bars, "Ephiny?" she said in a stronger voice, "What in the name of Artemis are you doing here?"
Toris had moved from his place on the floor, to stand just behind the small honey blonde woman, his eyes studying the details of their visitors, taking it the arrogant stance and bearing of the blonde, good looking, Roman as he stood silently inspecting them all in turn. His eyes had widened slightly when he had looked at Toris and the dark haired man knew that the Roman had met his sister before.
He returned his glance to the Amazon with the fair curly hair and serious brown eyes as she answered the bard's question, "Looking for you," she had smiled, "Honestly, Gabrielle, I don't think I've ever met anyone with your ability to find trouble so easily."
"Ephiny!" protested the bard.
The Regent ignored her friend's indignation, and smoothly continued, "I recognise Autolycus ..."
The thief executed a precise bow and grinned, "Good to see you too, Ephiny."
"... and Joxer," she added, looking towards him as he grinned back at her, "So, I presume that you," she said looking at Toris's short blonde friend, "must be Iolaus, and you," she turned her eyes towards him and paused for just a heartbeat as she recognised the electric blue eyes in the face of a familiar seeming stranger, "can only be Toris." She smiled at the slight scowl that had etched itself onto his features, "Oh yeah! A definite family resemblance there."
Ignoring the scowl that had deepened on his face, Ephiny gestured to the Roman at her left hand side, "This is your and my host, Pompey the Magnus," she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling at the title, even though she was aware that the man had earned it in battle. She found such things just too pretentious.
"We've met before," responded Gabrielle flatly.
"I know, Gabrielle, but the others don't know him," agreed the Amazon. "I don't think any of you have met my second in command, Eponin, either," she finished the introductions by indicating the dark haired woman at her side. "As you've probably gathered," she said to the men, "My name is Ephiny and I have the somewhat dubious privilege of being Amazon Regent in the usual absence of our Queen, Gabrielle."
"Ephiny," broke in the bard, her frustration beginning to show, "Are you going to get us out of here?"
"That depends ..." began the Regent.
"Ephiny!" broke in Gabrielle in exasperation.
The Amazon held up her hand to cut off her friend, "It depends on whether you all give your oath to remain hidden in Pompey's palace. We cannot afford for any of you to be seen. There are soldiers searching everywhere for you, and that's only going to intensify with Caesar on his way back to Rome."
Gabrielle looked at Ephiny with an almost rabid intensity, "Are you sure?" she demanded, "Is Xena with him? Is she safe?"
Toris had also stepped forward eagerly at the Regent's announcement and gripped the bars with a fierce concentration that was not lost on either Ephiny, Eponin or Pompey, "Will we be able to free her?" he growled his voice pitched low with eager desire to succeed in this.
Ephiny looked at the pair. Their need was almost palpable and she could give them no reassurances, "All we know for sure is that Caesar is on his way back to Rome. It is likely that Xena is with him, and it's going to take a lot of work and cooperation to be able to pry her loose from Caesar's grip."
She gave the pair a stern look, knowing that it was these two who were going to cause the most problems, simply because they were the ones that Caesar wanted the most, "Now, do I get those promises?" she asked, or do you want to stay in there?"
Of course they'd made the promise. Which was why Toris was ready claw his way through the walls of his fancy new prison, because he'd not been allowed outside the door for three days. Admittedly, Iolaus, Autolycus and Joxer hadn't been allowed to go anywhere either but he hated the closed in feeling and the guards on the door with orders to make sure none of them left.
It hadn't been too bad the first day. Especially since he'd got to meet Hercules! He almost chuckled as he remembered Iolaus's face when he'd entered their suite of rooms to be confronted by his best friend.
He'd seen the big man make a small gesture for silence and had waited until Pompey and the Roman guards had left the room. Eponin had checked to make sure that Amazon guards were in place before turning and grinning the all clear.
Hercules had clasped his oldest friend in a warm embrace before saying, "You have no idea how good it is to have all of you here safely. With Brutus beating the bushes for you, we've felt powerless to help you."
Iolaus had grinned at the demi-god and said, "Hey, buddy. What brings you here?"
The tall, tawny-haired man smiled lazily at him and said, "When so many of my friends disappear, do you think I'm going to stay home and leave you all to have the fun and adventures."
"Hah," grumbled Autolycus, "You'd have been welcome to my place in this adventure. Not that it's not good to see you."
Toris had seen the big man's eyes fall on a subdued Gabrielle. He held open his huge, muscular arms, and the little bard flew into them sobbing, "Oh Hercules, you have to do something to get Xena away from Caesar. He's doing terrible things to her. I've seen it, I know it."
His massive hands gently stroked the young woman's hair until she had managed to gain control of her emotions. Then, holding her away from his body so he could look down into her green eyes, he told her solemnly, "I know, Gabrielle. We have a plan, but it means that all of you are going to have to stay hidden until we're ready to leave here. Will you do that for Xena?"
His blue eyes had held hers until she agreed to what he was saying, "One other thing," he told them all, "Here I'm known as Heston. If there are any Roman's about I cannot be seen to speak or listen to you .. it's part of our plan."
"Do we trust Pompey?" Toris had asked, drawing the demi-god's attention for the first time.
Hercules had looked him over with a professional eye before saying, "You must be Toris." he held out his arm and had taken the dark haired man's in a warrior's grip, "And in answer to your question, no! We trust no Romans, however friendly they may seem."
They had spent some time discussing the plans they had made for freeing Xena before Gabrielle had asked Hercules to break her free from the hated collar she wore. Hercules had smiled at her and fastened his strong hands on the metal exerting his strength to pull it apart. His huge muscles bulged, but the collar remained stubbornly in place. He'd tried two or three more times to break the obdurate metal, but with no success and had to finally surrender the struggle, although he promised to find a way to get it off of the bard as soon as he could.
With nothing else pressing for their attention everyone had finally turned in for the night, the erstwhile prisoners being exhausted from their travels. The next morning they had heard the news of the Carthaginian defeat and Caesar's victorious return.
Since then Toris had found worried apprehension growing inside of him. He knew Gabrielle felt it as well, and the confinement to the two suites of rooms, these and Ephiny's, began to grate on him. He had desperately wanted to go with Eponin to the ship, to catch a glimpse of his sister, to assure himself that she was alive and well. But neither he nor Gabrielle had been able to get Hercules and Ephiny to relent their restrictions, so now he was forced into impatient waiting for the news of what Eponin had seen.
He looked up as the door opened and one of the Amazon guards poked her head in, "Queen Ephiny asks that you all come to her rooms. Eponin has returned with news."
Toris almost flew off the bed in his eagerness to get to someone who could finally give him some news about Xena. He was closely followed through the door by Hercules and the others, all of them eager to hear about their friend.
Breathing deeply as she rounded the last corner of the corridor, Eponin slid to a walk and hurried to the door of the Amazon Regent's suite, "Who's in there?" she asked the guard.
"Just the two Queens," came the reply from Kyana
- Damn! - thought Eponin, - If I stick my head in there, Gabrielle's going to be all over me. - "Um. Do you think you can get Ephiny out here without letting Gabrielle know I'm back," she asked.
"Bad?" asked Hakine.
"Couldn't have been much worse without her being dead. Truth is I couldn't see how she managed to stay alive. Now just get Eph out here. I really don't want to have to let Gabrielle know this until I hear what Ephiny thinks," the Weapons Master told them.
Eponin stepped back out of view as Kyana opened the door and stuck her head round it to say, "I'm sorry to disturb you majesties, but Pompey has sent a messenger asking for your immediate attendance, Queen Ephiny."
Eponin heard Gabrielle say, "Should I come with you, Eph? Do you think he has news of Xena?"
"No, I don't think so. If Pompey had wanted both of us he'd have worded the message that way, and I think Eponin will be faster than any of his messengers." A slight pause, "Do you want to stay here or go over to the other suite with the men."
Eponin held her breath as she waited for the bard's decision, "No, I think I'll stay here. My head aches and I'm just too fidgety to be good company at the moment. Besides I want to be here for when Poni gets back."
"Fine Gabrielle, I'll try not to be too long," promised the blonde Regent.
Eponin could hear her friend as she crossed the floor of the large room and approached the door. As the Regent stepped out she saw Eponin and hesitated for an instant as her eyes widened in surprise. The weapons master raised a finger to her lips and beckoned the blonde forward.
Throwing a quick glance at Gabrielle, who had resumed her pacing, Ephiny stepped out quickly and allowed the heavy door to be swung shut behind her, "What's going on?" she demanded, "Did Pompey send a message or not?"
"No Eph," assured Eponin softly, "I just thought you'd better hear this before Gabrielle or the others do."
"That bad, huh?" she asked in concern.
"Gods, Eph! I've never seen anyone live through the kind of abuse she's been taking. It can only be that stubborn will of her that's keeping her alive." She proceeded to explain to a grim faced Regent just what she had seen.
Before Ephiny was out of the door Gabrielle had resumed her restless pacing. Her mind bounced from distracted thought to distracted thought, refusing to focus on anything but Xena and she knew that if she kept thinking about what was happening to her friend she'd go crazy.
Within moments she realised that she couldn't face being alone. She might not be able to have a civilized conversation with anyone, but she needed to have friends around her, in a way, as an assurance that she wasn't in this on her own, and that there were people there to help her.
Making a decision that she'd be better off with Iolaus and the others, she headed for the door and wrenched it open in time to hear Eponin's rather vivid graphic description of just how Xena's back looked. "Eponin?" she said in a quiet, frightened, voice, "Is she alive?"
The weapons master gave her a worried look and moved quickly to the young Queen's side, closely flanked by Ephiny, "She's alive, Gabrielle," Poni assured her, "She's pretty beat up and they're not treating her with kid gloves, but she's definitely alive and doing her best to stand up to them."
"You said her back looked raw?" the bard asked in almost a whisper, "What did they do to her?"
Eponin shot a worried glance at the Regent who gave her a short nod to answer, "Nebula thinks they whipped her ... a lot, many more than twenty and ..."
"What?" asked Gabrielle, pain written in her eyes.
"They crossed the lashes, Gabrielle. It's like cutting the skin into little diamond shapes. It really rips the skin up and doesn't leave a lot of whole flesh on the victims back once it's been done."
"Oh Artemis," Gabrielle closed her eyes to keep her anguish hidden from the two Amazons. - Xena, you promised me you'd be careful! - her mind railed, "When Caesar first took her he ordered her flogged and she took just twenty lashes. She nearly died from it."
"Gabrielle, I promise you she was far from being dead. I won't lie to you, she didn't look good, but she didn't look ready to book a place on Charon's boat either," Eponin tried to lighten the tone a little, "I think her injuries were well tended."
"Patroclese," said the bard simply.
"The healer that was with you at the village?" questioned Ephiny.
"Yeah, he's Caesar's personal physician," confirmed the honey blonde.
"Do you think he's told Caesar about you connection to the Amazons?" asked the Regent intently.
Gabrielle shook her head, "I don't think so. Caesar or Brutus would have made something of it." Her brows furrowed in concentration, "I think Patroclese felt really guilty about his part in all of this. He owes Caesar everything, but I think he likes me and Xena and he's been kind as far as he was able .. No I don't think he'd have told Caesar."
Both Ephiny and Eponin sighed in relief, "That might just be the key to making this thing work," the Regent muttered. She glanced around realising that they were still standing in the corridor. Pulling Gabrielle towards her apartments she motioned Eponin to follow and then sent Hakine over to ask the men to join them.
They had been arguing to no avail for some time. Both Toris and Gabrielle wanted to be part of the Amazon contingent that had been invited to witness the triumphal reception on the steps of the Temple of Jupiter. It had taken a firm order from Ephiny and Pompey to finally get them to submit to the inevitable.
"If Caesar lays eyes on you, the whole game is finished," Pompey said grimly. "I couldn't protect you and Caesar would have all the leverage he needed to keep his hold firmly on the Warrior Princess. I won't allow that to happen."
"Gabrielle, Toris, you must have patience," pressed Ephiny gently, "You know we're right about this. The Amazons will attend this parade and I'll tell you exactly what I saw, and how she was coping as soon as I get back."
"Alright, Eph," conceded the bard reluctantly as she looked at Toris until he gave a nodded agreement, "I hate leaving all of this to others. Xena's my partner. I should be there for her .. she'd be there for me."
"She'll understand, and believe me as much as she'd like to see you and Toris, she'd far rather you be kept safely away from Caesar," insisted the Regent.
"How long do these things last?" asked Xena's brother of Pompey. When he'd heard about the punishment that had been inflicted upon her, it had taken Hercules to prevent him from ploughing through the guards and out of the palace. He'd calmed down enough now to put a cap over his erupting anger, but it still bubbled waiting to explode at the least excuse.
"The parade and the presentation of the Laurels will take about a candlemark or two, then there's the victors feast." He shrugged, we should be through a few candlemarks after nightfall.
Iolaus moved over to his friend and touched his elbow gently, "We can wait, Toris," he told him calmly, "We've waited all these moons now, a few more candlemarks aren't going to take forever to pass."
Toris took a deep breath, forcing his impatience firmly down. He needed to be rational and clear sighted about this, - More like Xena - his mind quirked in thought. He forced his tense body to relax.
Iolaus gave a small smile to Ephiny, "We'll be fine. Just get back as quickly as you can. Are you taking Heston?" he asked casually.
The Regent appeared to consider that for a moment, "Yes, I might get the chance to wager on him in a pit fight."
She had been there perhaps half a candlemark, when Patroclese appeared from the doorway that led to the officers cabins. He came straight across the deck, carrying his medical equipment and a small bundle of cloth, moving directly to Xena's side, ignoring the silent inspection of the guards as he did so.
"How are you doing today?" he inquired as he settled behind her to start his daily routine of tending her injuries.
"Oh, fine," she breathed a little heavily as the healer's hands began a careful exploration of the cuts and welts that covered her back, "Loving every minute of it!" she added, the heavy flavour of sarcasm evident in her words.
"You know, I wish I could work out just how you manage to heal so fast .. some of these stitches are ready to come out," he told her as he searched his bag for the delicate scissors that he carried.
"Clean living and healthy exercise," she grunted mockingly as he began working on the stitches near to her shoulders.
Once he had removed those ready to be taken out, he began to work a cleaning fluid across her back, careful to concentrate particularly on the areas where the stitches had just been pulled, "You know this is going to be sore for quite a while, but I really believe that all you're going to be left with is some light scaring .. it's incredible."
"Yeah! lucky me! You ought to try it from my perspective," she grimaced as the cleaning fluid bit at a particularly painful spot.
Finished with the cleanser, he proceeded to gently sooth in the salve that helped numb the pain from the lacerations, "I see you've been upsetting Flaccus again," he said, stopping what he was doing for a moment to turn her head towards him, "That's going to need a couple of stitches." He finished treating her back and moved round in front of her, gently wiping the blood away from her face and the cut on her hairline, "You are single handedly working me to death. Not only do I have all your wounds to take care of, but then I get all the ones that you hand out to the guards as well."
She fixed him with a cold stare, "Don't forget Caesar's little aches and pains," she told him with more than a touch of satisfaction in her words.
Patroclese dabbed firmly at her latest wound with the cleanser, "That wasn't a smart move," he told her sharply noticing her wince a little from the pain of his ministrations. He held a wad of linen to the cut, "Can you hold that?" he asked.
She grimaced a bit, but bent her back and head down low enough so that she could hold the cloth to the wound while he readied needle and thread, "What happens next?" she asked, more for something to take her mind off the agony induced from stretching the healing tissues of her back than anything else.
Moving her hand aside, the healer took hold of the scalp split and quickly worked to put the required stitches in, "Rome is organising a Victory Parade for Caesar and Veranius. Nothing much will happen until the VIIth Legion has disembarked with the Carthaginian prisoners, then the parade will form up and march through the assembled citizenry to the Temple of Jupiter where victor's laurels will be accepted, then onto a formal reception and dinner .. there that should hold it."
"What's he got planned for me?" she asked as he rubbed a little of the salve onto the stitched cut.
He looked at her seriously, "You'll be part of the parade, Xena. He wants to show Rome that no one can escape him .. you pretty much made him look at best foolish and at worse incompetent when you escaped from the prison. He's going to display you to everyone who dared to laugh openly, or behind his back."
"Figures," she answered with the slightest of shrugs as though she'd expected no less ... which she hadn't.
"Flaccus has orders to keep you tightly in line, Xena. If he even thinks you're going to give trouble, he won't hesitate," Patroclese warned.
Xena grinned her quirky half smile, "What possible trouble could I give?" she asked rattling her chains at him, while hearing one of Gabrielle's favourite comments, 'You could find trouble in a totally empty room!'
"Just don't do anything to antagonise them," he asked, knowing that she would do what she thought fit. He pulled out a jar of aloe and rubbed the cooling ointment across her blistered arms, guessing how sore they must feel.
"I've got some fresh clothes for you," he told her pulling the cloth bundle over.
"What? He doesn't want to parade me half naked through Rome's streets to humiliate me?" she asked in mock disbelief.
"He doesn't want to shock the matrons of Rome," he gave her a frankly considering look, "Nor make them mad with jealousy."
Xena almost snorted with laughter, "With their hero come home, do you think anyone's going to spare my beaten carcass more than a passing glance?"
"Don't underestimate your beauty, Xena," the healer told her with a broadening smile, "I think that's one of the reasons he wants you fully clothed. He wants all eyes on him, and you would be something of a distraction as you are now." He eyed her warily, "I'm going to have to unlock your chains so you can put these on. You're not going to do anything foolish, are you?"
Xena sighed, knowing she was in absolutely no condition to take on even the six soldiers on close watch, "No, Patroclese .. I'll be good."
"Didn't think that word was in your vocabulary," he chuckled as he handed a key to one of the guards, who unlocked the leash from around the mast. He shook out a grey, sleeveless shirt and threaded the chain through the neck of the garment, before handing the end back to the soldier to secure once more. He settled the shirt over his patient's head before undoing the belt buckles, "Hang on a moment, while I just put some cleanser and salve onto this bit here," he told her, "I couldn't get to it before."
She waited patiently until he finished before holding out her clenched hands so he could unlock the cuffs. Free from the restraint, she moved gingerly to work her arms into the sleeve holes, and with Patroclese's help, eased the cloth down over the painful injuries covering her back.
The manacles were quickly replaced and the belt refastened, although the healer was careful not to pull it as tight as Flaccus had. He then unlocked the leg irons and motioned her to remove the soiled trousers she had been wearing. He winced when he saw the fresh bruising on the backs of her thighs, and wondered just what she'd done to get them. It was evident that she needed a bath, but a dousing with a couple of buckets of river water was the best that could be managed.
Xena stood quietly while Patroclese did his best to clean her up, glad that she'd never particularly suffered from personal modesty, aware of the unashamed admiration of both the soldiers and sailors on the deck. When the healer had finished cleaning and tending her wounds caused by rope burns and sores, he helped her on with the grey, replacement trousers and finally, he locked the shackles back on her ankles.
"No boots, huh?" she asked, having already surmised that there wouldn't be.
"'Fraid not. You're to be the conquered slave, so you'll walk barefoot through Rome."
"When does this shindig start?" she questioned idly.
"About a candlemark after midday," the healer supplied the answer, "Not too long now."
"Great. Can't wait," growled the Warrior Princess as she watched Patroclese pack up his things.
"Try to get some rest," he advised, "This won't be easy." He saw her nod as he headed back to his cabin.
Caesar sat at his desk resplendent in the white tunic and burnished golden armour that he was to wear for the parade. In his hands he held a message scroll from Brutus, and his face was a darkening thunder head of anger. He smashed the scroll onto the desk and snarled at Flaccus, "He lost her! The damn fool lost the bard and the two men on his way here!"
The centurion rubbed at his chin, a worried look on his face, "That could make things a bit awkward with the slave, sir. Threatening the bard is about the only thing that has any lasting effect on her."
Caesar leaned back in his chair, his brown eyes stormy, a glower decorating his handsome features, "Well then, we just have to make sure that she doesn't hear that the brat is missing. The next time she steps out of line, you tell her she has lost the privilege of seeing her precious Gabrielle. We'll work on finding someone who looks enough like her from a distance to fool Xena into believing that the bard is still safely in our custody .. perhaps we can arrange for her to hear some screams from the 'brats' beatings. It might be enough to keep her under control until we have Gabrielle safely back where she belongs .. under my lock and key."
He glared at the scroll unseeing as a thought came to his mind, "Oh, Flaccus. Don't say anything to Patroclese about the bard being missing. He's far to concerned about Xena's well being .. I don't think it's wise to give him more information than he needs."
"You don't trust him, sir?"
"I trust few men, Flaccus," he answered, his tone seeming to include the centurion among the few, "Patroclese is a fine physician, but he allows his emotions to get in the way of his duty. He's loyal enough, but .. lets not put temptation in his path, though," he added thoughtfully.
"As you command, sir," agreed Flaccus, "How do you want me to arrange the maniple for the parade, sir?"
"Xena's leash is to be chained to my chariot. I want you within reach of her at all times. Increase her personal guard to ten and have them march either side of her, make sure they carry the heavy batons. I want forty men in front of the chariot, they can keep an eye on the Carthaginian prisoners who will be ahead of them, the rest can form up and march behind us. Warn all the men that if she escapes, I'll have them crucified," he looked at the craggy centurion, "Keep her under control Flaccus. Do what you have to short of killing her, but you make sure that she knows, and keeps, her place."
"Sir," he saluted crisply, "I'll make sure she understands how to behave, before the procession starts."
"Good man," smiled Caesar, "Very well, dismissed."
Nebula had remained watching the activities on the trireme with interest. Xena, she had noted had been left strictly alone, although six men had been detailed to guard her and they never took their eyes off her. - If I had to put up with that for long, - she mused, - I'd be ready to climb out of my skin! They're obviously either very afraid of her, or taking no chances, or both. -
Her interest intensified as she saw the tall blonde man approach the captive warrior. He was obviously well known by the guards, who allowed him to pass and he set about treating the woman's wounds with a casual efficiency that spoke of easy competence, - Well at least they want to keep her alive, - Nebula deduced, - although after all the trouble they've been to in beating her half to death, you'd never believe it. -
The relevance of the clothing that Xena was given wasn't lost on the pirate, only slaves wore grey in Rome, it identified them almost as strongly as the collars that they wore. As the warrior turned her back when she sat down once more, Nebula could see the odd patch of blood already marking the cloth of the shirt.
Sighing, the pirate captain shifted her attention back along the docks to where the wharves were crammed with soldiers disembarking from the rest of the fleet. Each of the men was equipped in his dress uniform, all metal parts polished until they gleamed in the sun's splendour. It wouldn't be long before they were ready to start the pageant.
A racketing noise on the cobbled wharf, close to the ship, drew her attention away from the VIIth Legion and to a white chariot lavishly decorated with gold leaf. The perfect vehicle for Caesar's Triumphal entry into Rome. - I wonder if he'll share the place of honour with the Admiral? - she grinned mirthlessly. It was probable. Caesar was an astute politician and he knew that giving Veranius an equal part in this procession would bind the man too him.
Glancing up at the sun, Nebula figured that it was about half a candlemark after noon. She doubted that there would be much longer to wait. Nearly all the players were in place. Just one or two more to take their station on the stage and all would be ready.
Flaccus had left Caesar's cabin and gone to his own where he had changed into his own dress uniform, making sure that it had been prepared to his exacting specifications. Once he finished dressing, he added his sword, picked up his vine staff of office, tucking it under his left arm, and added one final piece of equipment that was strictly non-regulation; a wicked looking whip with a foot long, heavy, solid, handle that had half a dozen, two foot long, leather lashes extending from it. It was not a tool he used lightly or often, - But with some soldiers and slaves, it's the only way to get their attention. - He pushed it through his belt displaying it prominently, knowing that the woman would be sure to see it and recognise its significance.
Straightening his tunic, he was already moving up to the deck when he heard one of the sailors reporting the arrival of Caesar's chariot. - Time to get her onto shore, - he noted to himself. He marched across to where the slave sat, - Almost meek - he thought, until you noticed the undaunted glint in her eyes. - Gods, but she is going to be a test of endurance. -
"Get up, slave." he ordered, waiting for her to give him a reason to emphasise her place once more.
Xena responded .. not immediately, there was enough hesitation in response to show she'd thought about it, but it wasn't enough for him to object too. She could tell he was looking for an excuse, was looking to test how far her stubborn independence had been cowed.
He moved behind her checking that the belt had been replaced securely, and found it too loose for his tastes. He tightened each buckle three holes so that the leather pinched tight into her flagellated skin, making her bite her lip to avoid crying out. He then examined each cuff of her shackles to make sure that they were locked securely.
Grunting with satisfaction, he pulled out the small ring of keys that Patroclese had returned to him, and selected one. Using it, he unlocked the chain from the mast and gathered in the slack until his fingers could curl around the collar. Pulling her face close to his he told her in a menacing growl, "We're going down to the wharf, and you are going to do exactly as you are told, when you are told ... you got that?" he demanded.
Quelling any number of smart retorts that sprang to her mind, Xena looked him squarely in the eyes, fighting to keep fire from showing with little success, and answered in a low but audible tone, "Yes ... sir."
Flaccus knew there was plenty of fight left in her. - The woman has a strong spirit, we may never break it but, by the Gods, we can grind it so far under that she'll need a shovel to find it again. - He released his hold on the collar and gave the leash a firm tug to get her to follow him. She trailed behind, the image of docility, but he had seen the wolf still lurking, and knew that she was far from subdued.
They moved down the gangplank, the allotted guard members already in place behind the chariot, Xena stumbled along, seemingly concentrating on keeping her footing as she trailed the leg irons over the deck and down to the wharf, but her eyes took in all the details, analysing prospects, weighing possibilities, even knowing that there would be no opportunity for her to effect some miraculous escape.
She stopped when Flaccus did, pinning her eyes to the ground so that he couldn't read the challenge and defiance that she knew she couldn't bury for any length of time. She watched covertly as the centurion locked the end of the chain to the chariot, - So I'm to be a prize hound on a leash awaiting her master's pleasure, am I? - She could feel the slow burn of indignation and attempted to crush it before it could flare and cause a reaction. The attempt was only partially successful, but so long as she didn't look Flaccus in the eyes, she thought she'd be able to hide it and keep it under control.
"Sit!" Flaccus demanded.
- Even issues commands as if I were some kind of damn dog, - her mind growled, but she sank to the ground as ordered and thought about working on some simple meditation techniques to still the growing anger she was feeling. She needed control, or she would doom Gabrielle to a life of agony that matched her own current existence.
"Alright slave," Flaccus growled at her, "We will soon be taking a nice leisurely stroll along the streets of Rome. You will behave yourself, because I'm going to be right behind you with this." he dangled the flail in front of her downcast eyes, and grinned as he saw the involuntary twitch away from the whip, before she could control her reaction.
"When we reach the Temple of Jupiter you will mount the steps behind Lord Caesar and there you will kneel to him in supplication and you will stay there until you are told to move," he saw her nostrils flare as she struggled to control a burst of temper, "Do you understand?" he flicked her shoulder lightly with the whip to emphasise his question.
Xena breathed deeply, - I can do this, - she told herself, forcing her stubborn pride into a queasy nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach, - I have to do this, - she told herself firmly. The vicious looking whip began to draw back for a harder blow, she drew a deep breath and answered, "Yes .. sir." It made her want to vomit.
Flaccus reversed the flail in his hand and used the leather pommel to lift her chin so he could look into the icy blue eyes, "Remember that, slave. You really wouldn't want to see what kind of mess this little .. toy would make of the bard's back, now would you?" He saw hatred and anger flare and noted how the knuckles of her clenched fists turned white as she glared at him with a chilling intensity, "I said, would you?" he repeated threateningly.
"No .. sir," she managed to grit out without choking on the words.
"Very good, slave. You will learn how to be obedient .. eventually," he smirked patronizingly and removed the whip handle allowing her to drop her head once more as she struggled to retain self-control.
- God's! - her mind screamed, - I just want a chance to shove that thing right down his throat! - She could visualize just how hard and at what angle she should push it to get the best effect. She shuddered with the effort to control her desire to perform the feat.
Deciding he'd made his point for the moment, Flaccus did a quick inspection of his men as he waited for the VIIth Legion to move into position. Two Cohorts were to march at the front of the procession ahead of the Carthaginian prisoners and then the elite maniple, with Caesar, would follow in their assigned places before the rest of the VIIth, the other eight cohorts, brought up the rear.
Xena looked up from her place on the ground as she heard the familiar tramp of marching feet. The second cohort of the VIIth Legion marched past her, followed by the Carthaginians chained in ten rows of five men, each man wearing a single ankle cuff through which was threaded a long chain linking one man to the next.
As they passed the heavily guarded woman, her fellow captives called out words of encouragement to her, "Don't let them grind you down, Xena!" she heard, "Stand up to the Roman bastards!" came another. She lifted her head as they started a rhythmic handclap and the low rumbling chant of, "Xena, Xena, Xena!"
She gave them a dazzling smile, even as guards with whips started flicking the lash over the shoulders of the men, - So they'd heard about the punishment I received. - she thought, - News like that seems to fly around a fleet even while at sea, - she grinned. - Well fair is fair, let me give them some support in return. -
"Long Live Carthage!" she called out in reply as the mid point of the captive men passed her. Getting a loud cheer in return.
She sensed the motion of the whip, managing to turn slightly so that the lashes fell more across her arms than her back. Drawing her knees up, tucking her head down, she protected her head with her hands and kept her front to Flaccus who beat her four or five times with the merciless scourge.
"Don't you ever learn, Slave?" he demanded having covered her exposed arms in red welts. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up, seeing the flash of animosity and rage that appeared there.
"You said nothing about talking to other captives," she bridled. - Dumb move, Xena, - she admonished herself expecting the back hand fist that rattled her jaw.
"I've warned you on more than one occasion about that smart mouth of yours," he growled at her, "I think that maybe once we're settled, I'll have the armourer make up a muzzle for you, that should help you to keep your mouth shut. But, until we can bring that about, I'll just have to deny you the privilege of seeing the bard until you mend you ways." He felt her body tense and stiffen, "Maybe I'll order a nice healthy thrashing with a switch and arrange for you to listen to her yells."
Xena's muscles tightened with the need to react and ice settled into her eyes once more, "Just one more twitch," Flaccus almost purred, "and by any God you care to name, I'll have the hide off her back just like I did with you."
He felt her slowly relax, the icy rage dying in her eyes to be replaced a look of sullen defeat. Gabrielle's safety was more important to her than her own. She could even control her rage and pride if the price was the bard's continued safety ... well she fervently hoped she could.
- Damn, - thought Flaccus, - We really need that bard, otherwise the only way we're going to keep control of this one is by continually reinforcing commands with beatings. Lord Caesar wants her more or less intact so she can be fought in the pits, so I'm going to have to come up with something else to subdue her spirit.
- Eyes were drawn once again to the marching of feet, as the first cohort moved to take it's position at the head of the column. As they began passing the chariot, there was a blast of trumpets which blew a fanfare to herald the Admiral and Caesar as they disembarked from the ship. Xena's meticulous eye noted that her enemy had dressed himself as the conquering hero; his white tunic and golden body armour was complimented by the scarlet cape that hung from his shoulders, disguising the splints on his wrist in its folds, and the golden helmet trimmed with scarlet plumes that adorned his head. He smiled as the fist cohort bellowed in recognition, "Hail Caesar!" and executed perfect Roman salutes to their beloved general.
- Bastard knows how to dress the part! - she admitted grudgingly to herself. - Knows how to keep his troops happy too. -
Caesar preceded Veranius down the narrow gangplank, leaving the Admiral his right to be the last to leave his ship. When he reached the cobbled stones of the wharf, he moved with confident stride directly to the chariot and looked down at his slave, "Welcome back to Rome, Xena," he said to her, "I trust you're ready to begin your new existence here, because all you have known before is ended."
"And if I'm not?" she questioned flatly.
Caesar saw the centurion tense his arm, ready to bring the flail down across Xena's shoulders. He held up a hand, halting the action, "Rome's my city Xena. Here I have absolute power ...."
"I'm sure Pompey disputes that," she growled, interrupting him.
This time Flaccus wasn't stopped, a heavy blow fell across her shoulders, breaking open some of the partially healed wounds there, Xena could feel the tickling trails of blood as the cuts began to weep once again.
"As I was saying," continued Caesar smoothly, "My city, my power. No one here will help you or your friends. It's time you accepted the inevitable and gave up the struggle. For all your stubborn pride, there is only one outcome to this situation. It's just a question of how many beatings you and the irritating blonde are going to have to take to convince you of it."
Veranius joined him, "Ah, my friend," smiled the Roman noble, "Are you ready to receive the plaudits of the people?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," grinned the stocky Admiral, "I much prefer to leave this kind of thing to others."
"You've earned this, my friend," smiled Caesar, motioning Veranius onto the chariot, "Let's enjoy the rewards being offered." He added, hopping gracefully onto the vehicle.
Flaccus motioned two men to haul Xena to her feet, and then growled at her, "You're pushing your luck, slave. From now on when you address the general, you call him master. Got that?"
The Warrior Princess's reply was drowned in another blast from the trumpets. Flaccus didn't get the chance to repeat his question as the procession began to move out, and Xena was forced to concentrate on adjusting her stride to the restrictions of her leg irons, and the pace of the chariot. Her body ached and the cobbles hurt her feet .. something that she knew would be a real problem before they reached their destination.
Pompey had described the route that the procession would take from the docks. They would move through the Forum Boarium, away from the Capitol, south east past the Circus Maximus. From there they would turn north-east on the Via Triumphalis, until they reached the Via Sacra on which they would turn north-west and march straight up to the Capitol and the Temple making the final approach on the Clivus Capitolinus. It was a long circuitous route that was designed to allow as much of the population of Rome to get a look at their hero as possible.
They could see them coming now. The first cohort of the VIIth Legion marched proudly along the Via Sacra, standards borne prominently, discipline showing in their bearing and the rigid marching that kept them in perfect step with each other. Their armour gleamed in the sunlight making a dazzling display that had the tumultuous crowds happily cheering as they passed.
Ephiny listened as the cheers became louder as the Legion continued up the wide highway, behind them she could hear rolling 'boos', hisses and catcalls as the luckless Carthaginian captives followed along in the wake of the first two cohorts. Even from a distance, the Regent could see that the men were being pelted with rotten fruit and vegetables, as well as stones and other refuse of a far more unsavoury nature. She spared them a momentary thought of sympathy, but her eyes continued to search from the tall dark haired form that she was most interested in getting a look at.
So intent was she upon the approaching spectacle, that she almost failed to notice the leading members of the senate taking their place upon the steps of the Temple, dignified in their stately togas, along with the High Priest of Jupiter and members of the priesthood of other deities as well, resplendent in their ceremonial robes and masks. Pompey also moved forward to take up a more prominent position, leaving Ephiny and a number of other dignitaries, currently visiting Rome, in the background. A situation that suited the Regent comfortably. Especially as she could feel the tense anxiety radiating off of Hercules in waves.
Finally the superbly magnificent chariot, drawn by six splendid, matched, white steeds came into view. The cheering intensified into a solid wall of sound that rolled along the Via Sacra in a surge of crescendoing voices that was like nothing the Amazon had ever heard before.
As the procession made it's slow way towards them, she was able to pick out the figure that could only be Caesar on the chariot. He waved his hand to the people with graceful charm and occasionally threw handfuls of golden dinars into the delirious, screaming masses. Ephiny recognised a consummate showman. The throwing of his personal wealth to the people was a master touch that would endear him to them. The man was obviously a shrewdly calculating politician as well as a fine tactical general. Defeating him would not be easy.
- But Xena did it! - she reminded herself. The Warrior Princess had given Boadicea the strategy to defeat the Roman, and the people of Britannia had handed him a crushing defeat. - He is not invincible. He is not infallible. - she chanted to herself like a mantra, knowing that they were going to have to beard the lion in his den, and still find a way out of the city.
As if thought of Xena had suddenly conjured her, the Regent became aware of the dark haired figure that stumbled along in the wake of the chariot. She was still too far away to make any details, but she was certain about the identity of the heavily guarded woman, dressed in grey, who tried to hold her head proudly, despite the constant staggers that broke her usually graceful gait. She felt Hercules stiffen at her side as his pale blue eyes narrowed and focused on the woman he had rescued from the dark bonds of her past, giving her the chance at finding redemption for all of her horrifyingly evil misdeeds, while at the same time discovering a woman he could truly admire and love. Xena meant a great deal to him. They might never be able to share their lives, but they could share a deep, abiding and loving friendship.
As they drew closer and the faces gradually came into focus and took on definition, Ephiny could see that the march with the procession was beginning to take its toll on her strength. Although the Warrior Princess tried to present an attitude of haughty disinterest in her situation, and walk with her normal proud bearing, to anyone who knew her the evidence of strain and exhaustion could be read in her bearing .. a point emphasised when she suddenly stumbled and fell forward to be dragged a few paces by the chariot she was tethered to, before two of the guards hoisted her back to her feet.
The Regent held back a cry of angry indignation as she realised that the beautiful, sculptured, face of her friend was marred by heavy bruising. She could see the angry red welts that scored the woman's arms and recognised that the wounds were fresh.
More details became evident to the watching Amazon's and demi-god as the triumphal procession moved ever closer to Capitol and the Temple. They could see the heavy chains that bound her, the collar that matched the one around Gabrielle's throat and the thick chain that was secured to Caesar's chariot like a leash on a favourite pet. They were aware of the unusually armed, heavy, guard that surrounded her, and the way that those soldiers never allowed their eyes to flicker away from their charge for more than the odd moment. They identified the tall centurion, who marched just behind her and carried a wicked looking whip that had obviously seen use.
But worse was to come.
As the chariot was halted at the foot of the temple steps, Ephiny bit her lip as she saw the blood streaked back of the shirt that Xena wore. The Regent stepped hard on Hercules's foot as his body seemed about to sway into movement and a low growl started to emanate from his throat.
They watched in bitter silence as they saw the centurion step forward and unlock the leash from the chariot and wait for Caesar and the Admiral to dismount from their vehicle. Ephiny could see that Xena was swaying unsteadily and watched in concern as the warriors eyes drifted closed, only to see them spring open as the big centurion struck her in the ribs with the butt end of the whip.
Veranius waited on the steps as Caesar stepped down and held out his hand for Xena's leash. The centurion passed it over, and motioned for the ten man guard, that had surrounded the woman on the march through the streets, to follow as the conquering hero climbed the temple steps towards those waiting to receive him and Veranius.
It was obvious that the warrior was close to the end of her strength, yet she followed the harsh tug on her lead and did her best to not to trip or fall on the difficult steps. A clear trail of crimson was left upon the pristine marble stairway as Xena's bloody, unshod, feet passed over them.
When Caesar and Veranius reached the point where the senators and priests were waiting for them, they halted and waited to accept the laurels of victory from the High Priest of Jupiter. Xena seemed set to remain standing, even after the centurion snapped the order to, "Kneel!" at her. Her failure to comply led to two of the guard detail stepping forward and hitting her heavily behind the knees with their thick batons, forcing her into a supplicant's position, and keeping her there with strong hands pressed down on her shoulders, much to the delight of the crowd.
Ephiny could hear the big man beside her grinding his teeth as he fought to control his desire to go to his friend's aid. The Regent knew exactly how he felt. She owed Xena so much and she felt totally powerless to help the proud woman who was fighting valiantly against overwhelming odds and such brutal treatment.
When the laurels had been bestowed and a few quiet remarks had been exchanged with the men of the senate, as well as a few hard glares with Pompey, Caesar turned and raised his arms. As if by magic a silence fell over the massive crowds, slowly spreading back to parts distant from the temple steps.
Nebula had, as she had promised, discreetly followed the parade as it wound it's way along the city streets. Her height gave her an advantage when it came to observing how the Warrior Princess was faring on the march, and she was able to keep a fairly close eye on all that happened.
It was evident that Xena was struggling with the burden of her chains. Her bare feet staggered over a lot of the debris that had been used to pelt the Carthaginian prisoners and on more than one occasion she took a crashing fall, only avoiding being dragged along in the wake of the procession by the swift intervention of her guards who hauled her upright. It was obvious that her physical reserves, after her flogging, were very low and, as the progress continued, Nebula could see that the raven haired warrior was in grave difficulty. The march took three long candlemarks to complete and, as far as the pirate could tell, the slowness of the parade was the only reason that Xena hadn't fallen and been dragged by the chariot more often than the six or seven times she had. She also had one, rather backhanded, blessing. Because of the close proximity of Caesar and the tight cordon of guards, none of the crowd deemed it appropriate to throw anything at the woman.
When they had reached the temple steps, Nebula had drawn a lot of angry mutters and curses as she pushed her way through the densely packed crowds so she could see what was happening there. Her size, strength and even her looks got her past people where another person would have failed, so that when she came to a halt, she was only about ten rows back and had a good view of all that took place.
She saw the guards move in and force the warrior to kneel below Caesar and had been enveloped in the raucous cheering that had erupted from the populace as they watched the woman being humbled, as they saw it. From the many comments that Nebula heard around her, most of these people knew who the chained woman was and revelled in the fact that their hero held her captive once more. Her escape from Rome after she had attempted to 'assassinate' Caesar had been viewed poorly, especially when taken with the rumours that it was Crassus who had been executed in the arena, and not the barbarian Verchinex, whom the Warrior Princess was said to have rescued.
She watched intently as Caesar received his laurel crown and then spent some time talking to the members of the senate assembled to witness the event. Even from her quite distant position, Nebula could see the friction between him and Pompey. She darted a glance to the portico, where she could make out the unmistakable forms of the Amazons and Hercules, neither they nor he looked happy with the situation and it was taking a great concentration of focus to keep them from trying to help their friend.
The pirate captain marvelled when Caesar turned away from the Roman dignitaries and raised his arms demanding silence. All else was forgotten as silence swept through the massive throng, all desperate to hear their hero speak.
Caesar turned away from his non-verbal duel with Pompey, and allowed a smirk of satisfaction to slip across his features. He glanced down to where Xena was being restrained in position and felt a warm glow of satisfaction. - This is how things should be, Pompey put in his place and Xena cowed at my feet! What a perfect day this is. - Slowly raising his arms, he waited for the silence to sweep through the assembled multitudes before him. Within moments, the crowds were hushed and eagerly waiting for what he had to say. No one else upon the temple steps mattered to the people. They were here for Caesar, and they were eager for his words.
"People of Rome!" he began, "We are here today to celebrate a great victory at sea. The pirates of Carthage will no longer be able to harass our shipping about it's legal business!" He waited for the eruption of cheering to settle down before continuing, "For this great victory, we should give thanks to Admiral Veranius and his fleet, who performed great deeds for you, the people of Rome."
Another eruption of cheering gave him time to compose his thoughts before continuing his speech, "Recently," he continued when the people quieted once more, "I have been in Narbonensis and Gaul, where the perfidious barbarians sought to rise against us once again." Angry muttering rumbled through the masses. "Enemies of Rome sought to stir trouble there, but our gallant men were able to destroy the conspiracy when they captured one of the ring leaders, the notorious Warrior Princess, Xena!" He motioned to the woman kneeling before him.
Loud cheering once more rang around the Capitol along with growing screams and shouts of, "Crucify her!", "Death to the Warrior Witch!", "Kill the barbarian wench!", "Make her pay for Britannia!"
Caesar saw Xena begin to struggle against her guards, her anger at his blatant lies and the humiliations being forced upon her, stirring up a reaction even though she knew in her heart it was futile. Caesar nodded to Flaccus, passing him her leash and watched as the centurion and his men hauled their struggling prisoner over to the far side of the steps and proceeded to beat her into proper submission.
Holding up his arms once more, Caesar obtained the silence he needed to continue his speech, "With this woman in my power, I was able to secure a treaty with the Gauls that guarantee us peace for this year! By next year, we'll be ready to sweep through their miserable hovels and bring them fully under the jurisdiction of Rome. As for Xena ... death is too good for her. She will serve out the remainder of her life as a slave and be a living reminder to all those who would pit themselves against the might of Rome!"
More cheering echoed long and deep as Caesar took their approbation and basked in the glory of his power. When the cheering finally subsided, he wound up his speech with, "Victory! For the Glory of Rome!" Even more cheering echoed on the back of his words, causing him to smile.
Turning back to the dignitaries, he walked through them and into the Temple of Jupiter where a feast in his and Veranius's honour was to be staged. He threw a glance across to where Flaccus stood over the unmoving form of Xena and, with a twitch of his head, ordered her to be taken inside.