For disclaimers, see Chapter One

Gabrielle awoke the next morning as a hand gently ran over her cheek. "C’mon sleepyhead," the warrior teased quietly. "I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye."

Gabrielle forced her eyes open. "Mmmm … mornin’," the small blonde mumbled sleepily, gifting her love with a slight smile as she pushed herself up and raised her head, focusing on those pale blue eyes just inches from her own drowsy green ones.

"Hey," Xena said quietly, returning the smile. The warrior was already fully dressed. "I’ll likely only be gone until sundown -- maybe a little longer. It won’t be dangerous at all," she quickly assured, "but … um, even that’s long enough. How about a quick kiss, and then I’ll … well I’ll tuck you in and you can get back to sleep," she finished, seemed a little sheepish.

"Hmm?" Gabrielle mumbled again, then looked around a bit and realized the two of them had drifted off the night before without even getting under the covers. Also, the bard couldn’t help noticing, a certain warrior was admitting that she didn’t want to be away from her for even a single day. Still blinking, the smaller woman said, "Ah … I see…"

"Yeah," Xena replied, smile growing wider, then she rolled her eyes. "Think I’ve about had it with this falling asleep crying thing though." She ran a hand through her bard’s hair, gave her an impish grin. "I can think of better things to fall asleep after, you know?"

Gabrielle chuckled, raising her own eyebrows. "Ah … I see…" she repeated.

Xena shook her head, then managed to get the smaller woman under the covers and settled in. She knelt and gave Gabrielle a quick, if warm kiss, then sat back a bit, caressing her bard’s face softly. "I’ll be back tonight sometime, then I’ll make it up to you, all right?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Sounds promising. I’ll be here."

"I know," Xena replied. She looked away for a moment, then turned back and gazed into her love’s eyes. "And thank you for that … being here … Means a lot."

"Nowhere else to be," Gabrielle teased. "Now, go run your mysterious errands. See you tonight."

"Count on it," the warrior smiled, then gave her another quick kiss, and left.

It took several hours to reach the rocky hills north of Amphipolis, although once there, Xena found the cave with surprisingly little difficulty. On a certain level it pleased her that her memory was so good, but then, sometimes that was a curse as well as a blessing.

As it was now. Xena cut away the brush that had grown wild over the years and completely hid the entrance to the cave -- brush she’d deliberately planted there for just that purpose. Lighting a torch, she stepped inside. It wasn’t a terribly large space, but it was stacked to the ceiling with boxes and bundles, one of the first caches of supplies she had ever made, from her early years as a warlord.

I’d conquered most of this part of Thrace by then, she thought, looking back, Amphipolis was beyond safe by the time I put this stuff here, but I just kept going. Soon I’d gone so far the only thing left was to head out to sea and find new places to conquer. The warrior pondered this for a moment, trying to remember if she’d ever realized just how lost she’d become, even then. Finally, she decided she never really had -- the thrill of the conquest, the ease with which it came to her, the rush of power, had been too strong. And then it wasn’t long before I met … Caesar. After that, there was no going back.

She shrugged that thought aside -- with an ease that surprised her -- and began shoving crates around, searching, as bits and pieces of the past were uncovered almost at random. Brice’s old armor … he left it here after he found some that was better, then he died a week later of fever. Hmm, that set of gold goblets Counselor Adel gave me to spare her brother when he killed one of my lieutenants …Metricles, I think. Had him beheaded anyway. Why’d I do that? I never even liked Metricles…

The warrior blinked, then shook it off and kept searching. And really, it didn’t take long to find what she came for, dropping a number of small, if heavy bags into Argo’s pack.

She took one last look around, wondering idly if she’d ever see this place again, then decided it wasn’t worth thinking about. Like much of her life, the cave was full of just so many buried memories, some things painful, some useful, invariably mixed together.

If she ever needed them again, they’d doubtless be here, waiting.

In the break between the breakfast crowd and the noon meal, Gabrielle joined Cyrene, leaning on the fence which enclosed the grassy area behind the inn, just off the side of the stables. Jed sat on the grass, surrounded by eight or so small children, none of whom were more than ten years old. He’d brought along a couple of skillfully made dolls, a pair of little stuffed warriors which he eagerly gave to two of the children, who squealed in delight and hugged them appreciatively before wrapping their tiny arms around the big man’s neck in turn. After this the other tots brought out their own dolls and the group was soon playing out a rambunctious battle, ending with a raggedy prince and princess riding off together.

"You were right," Gabrielle smiled warmly, "he’s wonderful with kids."

"Oh yes," Cyrene smiled back, "if there’s one thing children love it’s an adult who can play along with them." She shook her head indulgently. "Especially when he makes them such nice little playthings. He loves them right back too. Children that age almost never think to judge" The innkeeper sighed. "Kind of a shame they stop coming around when they get to be about twelve seasons or so … most of them anyway." She sighed.

Gabrielle nodded. "Ever ask him about that?"

"Don’t have to," Cyrene answered sadly. "Breaks his poor heart every time. But," she continued, smiling a little again, "he never lets that stop him. I keep hoping some of them will come back around once they get older. We’ll see." She sighed again. "For most of his life his father, Timon, wouldn’t let him out much … and after Timon was too far gone to have any say in it, it took a while for the parents around here to let their children play with him." She chuckled. "Jed won them over though -- he’s just too good natured to resist for long. It’s nice to see him happy."

"He’s a special heart, that’s for sure." Gabrielle laughed as a new game began, this one apparently a miniature recreation of the Trojan war -- the bard thinking she ought to set a record or two straight with her stories that afternoon. They’ve got it all wrong. She chuckled to herself, watching for a while longer, then asked, "You say Jed makes the dolls? They’re really good."

"Yes, he does," Cyrene nodded at Gabrielle. "He’s the Pygmalion of the rag doll set, no doubt about it." They laughed together.

"Must be nice having children around again," Gabrielle said, without really thinking.

Cyrene looked at her with soft blue eyes. "It is," she said warmly. "Sometimes I join them when I feel up to it." She paused. "I remember when my own children were that age … such a handful they were. I don’t think I realized just how special a time it was -- really realized it -- until it was over, and they were older, and I hardly saw them anymore." She gave a weary sigh.

"Was it … hard, raising them all by yourself, keeping the inn going at the same time?" Gabrielle asked gently, covering one of Cyrene’s hands, holding it.

"Too hard, I think," the older woman replied. "I wonder a lot if things would’ve been … different if I’d just given up the inn -- took in washing, or something simpler, spent more time with them." She gave Gabrielle’s hand a squeeze, turned her eyes back to watching the children play, a sad smile on her face. "I was always so busy. The years were so lean back then, and I couldn’t afford to hire any help. I didn’t even ask what they were up to, as long as they finished their chores, as long as they came home at night and didn’t seem hurt or upset. Xena especially, she just didn’t seem to need looking after, you know? It took years before I understood she’d just … hide it when she was hurt, wouldn’t ask about things when she was upset -- gods, how could I have just … missed it?"

Cyrene wiped at a tear and continued. "You know, when she was sixteen -- gods, guess it was about a year before Cortese came -- I passed Brendan in the market and the healer asked me how her arm was doing. Turned out she’d broken it -- broken it! It’d been weeks, and I didn’t even know!" She choked back a sob. "What kind of mother doesn’t notice something like that?"

Gabrielle wrapped an arm around the older woman’s shuddering shoulders. "Xena’s mother," the bard said quietly, "because she wouldn’t let you see, that’s all. She never does." The blonde gave a strained chuckle. "She still doesn’t. Gods, the first year we were together, she’d ride the whole day with injuries that would put any sane person in bed for a month. If I hadn’t…" Gabrielle suddenly felt herself blush lightly, then chuckled again. "Well, if I weren’t so fascinated with her, watched her every move, I never would’ve noticed either. Even then, it was a long time before I learned to recognize the signs, get her to admit she was ever hurt." She gave Cyrene a squeeze. "And merciful Artemis, you have no idea what it took before she’d actually let me help."

The innkeeper slid an arm around Gabrielle’s waist. She looked down and sighed, then sniffled and raised her eyes to the bard’s. "You know not a day goes by I don’t thank any god who’ll listen that she has you," Cyrene pressed her head against the younger woman’s shoulder. "You brought my daughter back to me Gabrielle," she sighed. "If I’m her mother again, it’s only because of you."

"Nah," Gabrielle replied, shaking her head, sniffling herself. "She was on that path before she ever met me. She did that herself."

"Wouldn’t have mattered," Cyrene said, then shivered, jaw clenching. "Didn’t matter. I went ahead and let the mob stone her, remember? My own child!" A sharp intake of breath, choking back a bitter sob. "I might as well have held the rock in my hand myself … I can still feel it … and then…" She raised her head, looking at the younger woman, blinking, tears spilling down her weathered face. "And then … you were there…" She blinked. "And you stopped it. If it weren’t for you…" The innkeeper took a deep breath, fought to collect herself.

Gabrielle reached out a hand and gently brushed the tears away, then touched her palm along Cyrene’s cheek, making sure their eyes met. "The past is the past, Mother," the bard said quietly. "It’s the one place where no one is blameless. But that’s all it is -- the past. If we love each other, we forgive each other. We can even forgive ourselves, and we move on. She loves you Cyrene. I love you. And you love us. Nothing else matters."

Cyrene gathered the smaller woman into a tight hug. "You are the miracle in both our lives Gabrielle," she whispered. "Never doubt that … never forget it."

"And you are in mine," the young woman returned, softly, squeezing tears out of her eyes. "Both of you, every day I’ve known you."

The two women smiled at each other, nodding. Then with their arms around each other’s shoulders, they turned back to watch the children play.

By mid-afternoon Xena had found the Thracian militia where they were spending some down time, set up in a tavern in a nameless village along the Strymon river. Or maybe it’s not exactly down time, the warrior thought wryly, remembering why she’d thought this trip was necessary in the first place.

Most of the Greek city-states had banded together after the last invasion by the Persians -- by rights, after the devastating Greek loss at Marathon, the Persians should have swarmed through the land and conquered it with little resistance. No one in Greece knew exactly what had held the Persians up, but whoever or whatever it was that made them hesitate managed to do it just long enough for every Greek city to send troops, and the combined forces had driven the hated Persians back into the sea, where the Athenian navy made short work of them.

After that, every ruler from Sparta to the Hellespont had agreed to a treaty of mutual non-aggression and self-protection. Since their domestic armies were no longer needed to protect against each other, they were sent on regular patrols through the land to put down rising warlords, bands of raiders, and other insurrections.

The general in charge of keeping the peace in Thrace was Baracus, and Xena was, frankly, appalled by the choice. Given his rank by virtue of having been born a nobleman, Baracus was a slippery snake who thought too much of himself and his own welfare to take any risk that wasn’t strictly necessary to keep his position, preferring taverns and brothels to battlefields.

The least offensive rumor was that he’d avoided being killed at Marathon because he was too hung over to get out of bed that morning and get his troops moving in time. The worst rumor was that he’d taken a bribe to keep his troops away. Baracus himself claimed that he and many of his men had taken ill, and enough of them backed up the story that eventually, he’d slipped the noose.

However, knowing what she knew of the man, Xena tended to believe the rumors. All of them: he’d taken the Persian’s money, then gotten drunk.

Wearing her best warrior glare, Xena walked into the tavern like she owned it, hardly surprised when none of Baracus’ men tried to stop her. She purposefully strode over to where the "general" sat in one corner, then kicked underside of the table to get his attention. It rose a good foot before dropping back down, sending mugs and pitchers flying everywhere.

Baracus stood as the ale dripped down his head and chest, apparently waking up, eyes shooting around. "Who dares…" he began, then stopped when he caught sight of the ice blue glare he found himself under. He regained his composure with surprising speed and sat back down.

"Xena," he grunted. "What in Hades do you want?"

Xena resisted the urge to launch herself across the table and lift him up by his neck. Instead, she just narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, planting her fists on the table, letting just enough of the darkness still within her to rise and keep him fixed under her gaze. "I want you," she growled, "to do your job."

Baracus swallowed, but otherwise kept his cool. "Thought that’s what I was doing," he grumbled. "Any disturbance in Thrace you know of that I don’t? Far as I can tell it’s quiet and it’ll stay that way."

"Pray for your sake that it does," Xena replied evenly. "If it doesn’t, I’ll hold you responsible," she paused, showing her teeth, "and you don’t want to get on my bad side."

"What’s it to you anyway?" he mumbled, then it dawned on him. "Oh, wait … you’re from around here, aren’t you?"

"Good," Xena said, another slow growl. "And?"

"And … you’re looking after the welfare of your kinfolk?"

"That’s two for two," the warrior replied. "So sober up, get your men into shape, keep the peace. Got it?"

Baracus swallowed again. There’s got to be more than that, he thought, then filed it away for later. "I dunno," he began slowly, "those tightwads up in Neapolis barely keep us in supplies. Can’t say we’re real motivated, you know?"

Xena gave a disgusted grunt. "Yeah. Right. I forgot -- you’re not exactly the ‘do it for gods and country’ type are you?"

"Don’t…"

"Shut up," Xena hissed, pounding the table for emphasis. "I’m going to make this real simple -- if one city, one village, one single hut, is raided anywhere in Thrace I will personally hunt you down and cut you into pieces. Small ones. I’ll start at your toes and work my way up. How’s that for motivation?" She smiled. It wasn’t pretty.

"Uhhhh…"

"As for the rest of your ‘men,’" Xena said loudly enough for all to hear, unhooking the small pouch from her hip and tossing it onto the table. It spilled open with a loud clinking sound, gold coins and a few gems clattering across the surface. "Use that for extra ‘supplies’ -- if you all do your job, I’ll send regular little ‘bonuses’ as long as you keep making patrols. Got it?"

Baracus coughed. "Um, how regular?"

"As regular as I think you’re worth -- don’t push it," she growled, giving him the full-on warlord glare she felt he deserved.

He swallowed again, but somehow managed to hold her gaze. "OK," he said, suddenly glad for the ale dripping from his hair -- if nothing else, it hid the beads of sweat he could feel breaking out across his forehead. "You’ve got a deal."

"Good," Xena said quietly, standing straight as she smoothly turned and headed for the door. "So long Baracus," she growled without looking back. "Don’t make me come see you again."

Leah chirped with excitement as they entered the clearing. "This is it! This is it!"

Amarice gave in inward groan. "Leah, we only just got here…"

"But this is it!" the blonde repeated. "See?" She began bouncing over the area, pointing here and there, chortling as she went. "Gabrielle makes camp. Xena brushes down Argo. They turn in for the night all cozy by the fire … oh, ummm, together…" She blushed lightly, then looked at the patch of grass she stood over little more closely for a spare second before giving a strangely relieved giggle. "Nope, just a little cuddling. Rabbit stew for dinner, a few stories before bedtime…"

Amarice closed her eyes as if in pain. That does it, she thought, fuming. Blondie’s finally gone off the deep end. "Leah," she began, letting all her pent-up irritation finally show -- the small Amazon was finding it hard to speak through gritted teeth. "We’ve been here all of ten seconds. Don’t even begin to expect me to believe you can tell all that!"

The blonde looked at her with a hurt expression, lower lip protruding in a very upset pout. "But … but it’s all here," she insisted, voice almost trembling as she extended her arms out, waving her hands around to indicate the area. "It’s just details…"

The smaller Amazon folded her arms. "Yeah right," she huffed testily.

"But … look," Leah said in a small voice, sounding for all the world like a child trying to explain that she wasn’t "really running" through the house. She knelt over to one side of the clearing, combing her fingers through the grass, then stood and showed her open palm to Amarice. "See? Horse hair, pale like Argo…" She pointed at the ground, brushing aside some grass with her toe. "Hoof prints, Xena’s boots … Right?"

Amarice blinked in confusion, then looked closer. The track was faint, but once it had been pointed out to her it was definitely there, just as the blonde insisted. Amarice shook her head slightly as if to clear it. "Go on."

"Um, OK," Leah said, her tone still oddly meek and subdued. She drew her long knife and poked at the remains of the campfire within its small circle of stones. In a slow, tiny voice she said, "Rabbit bones," then picked at the ground nearby. "A bit of sliced root, trampled in. Something dripped on this rock and it ran over too far to be thick like gravy, but not far enough to be a thin soup, so that means rabbit stew…"

Amarice felt her jaw falling. By all the gods…

Leah had moved to a spot a few feet off to the left. "Cleared of rocks," she continued, "and sure, the grass has mostly sprung back up but there’s plenty broken, sort of a rectangle. It’s long enough for a bedroll but not really wide enough for two, and most of the broken grass is in the middle so they must’ve been like, pretty much on top of each other, but um, nothing too … vigorous. A wool blanket would’ve rubbed it bare in spots if, you know, they’d done anything…"

Amarice shut her eyes tight, looking in pain again, but for an entirely different reason. The hunting elder’s words echoed in her mind. The Amazon opened her eyes. "You spotted all that in a few seconds?"

Leah looked at her, standing tall, jaw pushed out defiantly. "Yes I did."

"Well, um, good. You uh, you pass," Amarice said, forcing some composure. Merciful Artemis save me, but maybe the elder was right … she probably could follow a sparrow over rocky ground. "So then, what else?"

Leah’s almost constant good mood seemed to instantly return. "Well, that Gareth guy came in over here…" Amarice let her ramble on as she followed the blonde around the clearing, trying to shake off her amazement as Leah took her through the rest of Xena and Gabrielle’s morning. Leah was practically bubbling as she pointed out where Gareth had filled his waterskin, where the warrior had drilled -- "Oh wow," the blonde paused, staring at the ground, "she’s really good!" Leah was even able to point unerringly to the exact tree that had been used for chakram practice, the smaller twigs cut off with almost surgical precision. Then it was over to where the bard had sat on the rise above the clearing. That gave Leah a bit of trouble until Amarice explained about the Princess’ meditation techniques. "Oh OK, that works," Leah replied with a shrug. Finally they came to the base of the tree where Xena had read the letter. The blonde could tell by the tiny fragments of sealing wax mixed in the dirt under the grass.

"I think Xena was upset," Leah finished. "After that they took off in a hurry, almost due north."

Amarice rubbed at her temples -- the last half hour had been almost too much to take. "Then that’s the way we’re headed," she said wearily, looking at the sky. "But it’s getting late. We’ll camp here, then head out at first light."

"That’s cool," Leah replied simply, "they were riding double, and the speed they were going they couldn’t have been headed anywhere more than a day or two away. Not unless they were planning on getting fresh horses somewhere."

Amarice thought about it. "Nah," she said finally, "Princess Gabrielle doesn’t like to ride, and Xena’s too attached to Argo to do that, I think…"

"Did you see me leave my hairbrush somewhere?" Leah asked, sitting with her pack between her knees, poking through it. "I thought it was down at the bottom someplace, but now I think I must’ve left it at that last village." Then she added, offhandedly as she searched, "Yeah, you’re right about them -- they wouldn’t have switched horses unless it was something really, really important."

Amarice closed her eyes, fuming inside. Damn you, what’d you have to go and say that for? She sighed, then shouldered her own pack again. "No, good point. Come on, we’re better off pushing on ‘til dark. Or," she added, with more than a hint of sarcasm, "at least until it’s too dark for you to follow the trail."

Leah stood. "Well OK," she replied matter-of-factly, apparently oblivious to the derisive lilt in the smaller Amazon’s voice, "I’ll just let you know when I can’t keep my eyes open anymore -- that probably won’t be too late ‘cause I’m kinda tired now. Or," she said without looking back as she headed off in the direction Xena and Gabrielle had left, "you can just let me know when you’re ready to call it a night. Guess we’ll camp then…"

Amarice shut her eyes again and, slowly, counted to ten. Artemis, I swear by the Fates, if I hadn’t seen what I just saw -- or believed for one second there was a single thought going on in that blonde head -- I’d say she was getting smart with me, and then I’d really have to belt her one…

One of the things Gabrielle loved most about Xena was the warrior’s sheer, physical passion. In fact, it was one of the things that had attracted Gabrielle to Xena in the first place. True, at times it could be somewhat overpowering, but within her warrior’s fire the bard had learned that the passion which burned inside herself -- something Gabrielle’s relatively staid, conservative upbringing had tried to impress on her was wrong -- was truly, completely right. That Xena could not only bring her to a state of mindless ecstasy, but that her dark lover welcomed any attention Gabrielle lavished on her in return was a constant source of wonder to the young woman.

Yet, there was another side to the warrior, one that revealed itself quite slowly over the years, which also delighted Gabrielle in a way that quietly nestled itself in a nice, warm spot in her heart.

Looking back, the bard had to admit that she’d long suspected there was a deeply romantic streak in her often taciturn partner. The warrior had simply never had much chance in her life to give in to such impractical impulses. But there were times, often when Gabrielle least expected it, when Xena would surprise her with small gifts, or lead the way to an especially beautiful spot to make camp, or just sing quietly as they held each other at night. The warrior’s gestures were tiny and hesitant at first, but always heartfelt, and never failed to touch the younger woman, bringing with it a warm, tingling feeling that seemed reserved just for Xena.

And so, when Gabrielle had gone upstairs that night after Xena had left for her meeting with Baracus, the bard opened the door to find their room dimly lit by a pair of candles, with rose petals scattered on the floor and over the sheets. A fine incense hung the air, and a tray of bread and wine was set on the nightstand next to the bed. The young woman broke into an easy smile, as once again that indefinable tingling ran along her spine and out to her limbs. Xena’s home…

Gabrielle sensed her tall partner emerge from the shadows behind her, the door swinging quietly shut. The young woman closed her eyes, leaning back as she was folded into her lover’s arms. One wrapped itself gently around her shoulders, the other firmly around her waist, and once again she found herself surrounded by the strength, the warmth, and the subtle musk that could only belong to the woman who lived in her heart.

Nothing, absolutely nothing in her life compared to the joy Gabrielle found in Xena’s embrace -- it was thrilling, exciting, yet peaceful and warm at the same time. A seeming contradiction that simply mirrored the dangerous, brooding warrior with the gentle touch and lover’s soul whom Gabrielle had come to know as the other half of herself.

A deep shiver ran through the smaller woman as Xena purred into her ear, "Said I’d make it up to you…"

"Mmm," was all Gabrielle could reply. The tall body behind her molded itself to hers, and with a jolt she felt pebble-hard nipples pressing into her mostly bare back. As she reached around to caress her warrior, she was unsurprised when her slowly roving hand met only smooth, supple skin.

Xena nuzzled behind the bard’s ear. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, Gabrielle," she whispered. "Just how special I feel to have you in my life. To be with you, to hold you … to love you…"

Gabrielle smiled, her heart spilling over, wishing she could simply melt into her warrior, become one with her. "Only because you make me special," the bard murmured, raising her arm to cup behind Xena’s head, turning to meet her warrior’s lips with her own. "I love you, Xena…" she breathed.

"I love you, Gabrielle," the warrior whispered, before sealing their mouths together.

The next couple of days began as usual, with the two of them drilling for an hour or so in the morning, followed by a quick bath, then Gabrielle would help out in the kitchen while Xena set to work on repairing the roof with Jed’s help. The warrior’s usual leather and armor were utterly impractical for such a task, so Xena wound up wearing some of her father’s old clothes that Cyrene had dug up from somewhere -- loose buckskin pants and a wide-collared shirt, along with a dark vest that Xena usually discarded as the day wore on.

If the warrior felt odd about wearing her dead father’s clothing she gave no sign, but Gabrielle found she liked the way Xena looked in practical peasant garb. Of course, she’d probably look good in a burlap sack, the bard mentally snorted. Then she snorted again. Actually, I know for a fact she looks good in a burlap sack.

What did give Xena pause was when, that first afternoon, Gabrielle clambered up to the roof beside her, clad in a pair of Lyceus’ buckskins and a loose cotton shirt. "Thought you could use some help," Gabrielle shrugged, "and I’ve never worked on a roof before. Figured I could learn a thing or two. So, here I am."

Xena blinked, past and present colliding. In those clothes, from the neck down Gabrielle could have almost been her adolescent younger brother -- the same hairless arms, slim but strong, thickened wrists poking out from rolled up sleeves.

Then the vision faded, and the unmistakable figure of her bard came into focus: wide hips, the soft swell of breasts under the shirt, and the slim, expressive hands that Xena knew every inch of. "All right," Xena said, smiling, "here’s how it works…"

And so the rest of the afternoon was spent tearing out old shingles. It wasn’t a kind of work the bard had ever done, but it wasn’t especially difficult either. And as was typical for Gabrielle, it fascinated her, the time passing between them with the sound of breaking wood punctuated by a steady number of questions about carpentry and just how a building was actually built.

An hour or so before sunset, Xena announced it was as good a time as any to quit for the day, then indulgently lay back against the new shingles, her discarded vest bundled under her head. Without a thought Gabrielle settled back next to her, blonde head resting comfortably on Xena’s shoulder, the warrior’s arm automatically slipping around her. Amphipolis continued its moderately bustling pace below them as they rested, watching the sky turn gold.

"Notice how everyone’s really trying hard not to seem like they’re looking at us?" Gabrielle asked.

Xena chuckled. "Yeah. You get used to it." She sighed. "I figure I’ve got maybe a week of grace left. After that, they’ll get over it -- then will come the questions."

Feeling the slight tensing in her partner, Gabrielle shifted a little so she could meet Xena’s eyes. "Questions?"

The warrior gave a wry smile. "Yeah, questions. This is the longest time I’ve ever spent here since I left so many years ago … and I didn’t leave alone. Some of these people have sons, daughters who left with me, and I don’t think any of them ever made it back." She nodded once, indicating the villagers moving back and forth along the packed earth of the street below. "And, as soon as they get up the courage, they’re going to come by and start asking what happened to them." She sighed, laying back. "That’ll be fun."

Gabrielle rubbed her hand gently over Xena’s thigh. "Let’s not think about that now, OK?" she soothed, settling herself comfortably once more, head resting on Xena’s shoulder. "Look at that sky -- it’s so beautiful this time of year. What do you think that cloud looks like?"

Xena smiled, gave her love a light a squeeze. "Andares," she said without hesitation.

"Um, Xena? What, exactly, is an Andares?"

"Not a what, a who. He was a cook in my army once -- absolutely the fattest man I’ve ever known."

Gabrielle looked at the cloud again, then gave a sharp snort of laughter. "Oh gods … I can so see that…"

That evening and the ones that followed were spent with Cyrene around a table in one of the inn’s two private dining rooms, eating dinner and reminiscing about childhood, or life on the road. They deliberately wouldn’t talk about the illness, and skirted around unpleasant memories, conversation staying consciously pleasant until it was time to retire.

And in their room, Xena and Gabrielle spent the nights immersing themselves in one another. It had been a long time since they’d had the luxury of a safe haven, with nowhere to hurry off to next, or even any reason to get up early. In all the years they had been together, this was one of their rare chances to simply take their time, let their passion build slowly, indulgently explore the terrain of their bodies and souls, and even discover new facets of themselves and each other.

Between the peaceful, productive days and the warmly passionate nights, they could have fallen into a rather pleasant routine. However, as they probably should have expected, a week after arriving at Cyrene’s inn two things occurred that would make any routine impossible.

The morning crowd was just beginning to break up, and Gabrielle had just come out of the kitchen after clearing a tray of dishes. Jed had spent the morning helping Xena carry another load of shingles up to the roof, and as soon as breakfast was over the bard expected to be up there again, next to the warrior, tarring and patching and driving nails -- Actually looks like we might get it finished in another day or so. Wonder what project she’ll think of next?

The bard stood behind the bar, leaning against it with her hip, crossing her arms and hugging herself lightly against a pleasant shiver as she looked out through the open door that led to the tavern’s back yard. Sheets billowed on the line, some of them from the bed she shared with the warrior, freshly laundered. They’d taken to stripping the bed and depositing them with the inn’s other linens to be washed, after waking the first couple of mornings on a tangled mass of bedclothes liberally coated with spilled wine, oils, and the scent of each other.

Gabrielle smiled, brushing her lips unconsciously with her fingers, the taste of herself in her lover’s mouth still lingering in her mind -- an intimacy she would never, ever quite get used to. And don’t ever want to. The white expanse of cloth sheets now waved in the mid-morning breeze, a gently furling reminder of the night before, and Gabrielle smiled even wider, not quite blushing. What can I surprise you with tonight, my love? Something with honey, I think. Oh yes, honey definitely. Honey, bread, maybe some berries? Mmm, now that could be interest…

Gabrielle was suddenly broken out of her pleasant fantasy by a loud crash from the middle of the tavern. The bard’s head snapped around just in time to watch Cyrene collapse to the floor, right on top of the tray of plates and mugs she’d dropped.

"Oh gods no!" Gabrielle breathed, vaulting over the bar without a thought and nimbly bouncing off a table, landing lightly in a low crouch next to Cyrene’s prone form. Forcing herself to be calm, the bard checked for a pulse, letting out a sigh of relief when she found one -- weak, but steady.

Gabrielle looked around, waving away the curious patrons who began to gather. "Step back. Give her room to breathe." The tone in her voice brooked no argument, and the startled villagers stepped away almost instinctively. "You," the bard pointed to one young man standing nearby as she said slowly, calmly, but firmly, "go get Brendan, the healer, now." He nodded wide-eyed and scurried out through the front door.

Rita chose that moment to come out from the kitchen, and Gabrielle sent a silent prayer of thanks to any god who was listening. "Rita," she called, making sure she caught the woman’s eyes, "go outside and tell Xena that Mother’s fainted … No, wait," the bard commanded, her voice even, but unmistakably strong, stopping Rita as she hurried to comply. "Take a moment to calm yourself before you go out there. Make sure Xena knows Cyrene’s all right, OK?" Gabrielle held the cook’s eyes and deliberately exhaled, slowly.

Caught in the bard’s gaze, Rita exhaled slowly as well, and Gabrielle was gratified when that seemed to take the edge off the cook’s obvious distress. "OK," Gabrielle said, nodding with a slight smile, "go on." With that, Rita made her way out the back.

The bard turned her attention back to Cyrene, who was breathing easily, if not very deeply. She made another brief check for any sign of injury, then gingerly turned the older woman onto her back, grimacing at the large bruise forming where the side of Cyrene’s face had struck a mug as she hit the floor.

She had just begun loosening Cyrene’s bodice to help her breathing when Xena came charging in through the back. "Out of my way!" the warrior growled, shoving aside anyone who failed to do so.

Gabrielle looked up, green eyes catching blue, lifting a hand to signal her partner to calm down. And as Xena crossed the remaining few yards to where her Mother lay, amazingly, the warrior did just that. As the tall woman knelt down across from the bard, Xena remained tense, but no longer seemed in panic or rage.

"The healer?" Xena asked.

"On his way," Gabrielle replied, calmly.

The warrior nodded, gently pressing two fingers along the side of her mother’s throat, searching for a pulse. "Injuries?"

"Bruises from falling over, that’s all."

"Let’s get her to her room. Watch her head…" Getting one arm under her Mother’s knees and the other under her shoulders, Xena carefully lifted the older woman off the floor while Gabrielle cradled her graying head to keep it from lolling back and possibly cutting off her breathing. Together, they efficiently brought the innkeeper up the stairs and into her own bed.

"I’ll need a light," Xena said once Cyrene was settled, as the warrior bent her head to listen to her Mother’s chest. Gabrielle nodded, using a flint to quickly light one of the oil lamps on Cyrene’s dresser. "All right," Xena said as Gabrielle returned, bearing the lamp, "her lungs sound clear. Now, hold that close to her face, right about … that’s good." The warrior then held one of her Mother’s eyes open, using her palm to alternately block the light from the flame and let it through, then repeated the procedure with the other eye.

After a moment Xena nodded and motioned the lamp away. "Well," the warrior said, slowly, with surprising calm, "her pupils react normally. Hopefully that means her brain is doing fine. I think you’re right -- she just fainted, though I don’t know why."

The bard set the lamp aside, sitting beside the warrior and gently wrapping an arm around her partner’s tensing shoulders. "Ever dealt with this before?"

Xena gave a helpless sigh. "No, not really. I mean I’ve heard of it, but most of what I know of healing deals with injuries, or acute sickness. Fevers, even some kinds of plague I can handle, but this kind of long term … disease … I just don’t know."

"That’s OK," said a surprisingly deep voice from the doorway, "I do."

Bard and warrior turned to see an older man standing just outside the room, carrying a satchel. He was medium height and relatively fit looking, dressed in a green tunic, pants, and wearing yet another variant of those odd, brimless hats that every healer in Greece seemed to like wearing for no apparent reason. "Been a long time Xena," he said casually, stepping across the threshold.

"Brendan," the warrior nodded, then smiled wryly. "Wish I could say it was good to see you."

Brendan just rolled his eyes. "If I had a dinar for every time I’ve heard that one," he snorted. "Nobody’s ever happy to see a healer. We get so little respect." He turned his attention to the bard. "And you must be Gabrielle," he said, smiling. "Well, Cyrene was right -- you are awfully pretty."

Gabrielle blinked in confusion even as she blushed slightly, while Xena furrowed her brows, then said in a low, growling voice, "She’s spoken for. Now, if you could see to Mother."

Brendan shook his head and sighed. "Easy Xena. I know that too. Just trying to get your mind off things." He sat on the opposite edge of the bed, looking over the still unconscious Cyrene, checking her pulse and breathing. "Frankly, I think you’ve already done about all there is to do. As this kind of illness progresses, fainting spells aren’t uncommon -- especially if the patient insists on staying on her feet all day. I’ve told her she should start taking it easy, but you know your Mother. And, honestly, she’s been fine up to now, so I didn’t push it." He shrugged. "Maybe I should have."

"So this is the first time she’s done this?" Xena asked, a thin edge of panic in her voice only Gabrielle probably could have noticed.

"Aye, at least as far as I know," Brendan replied, "and now that it’s happened once you can probably expect it again if you can’t make her slow down some. It’s something to do with the flow of blood, at least is that’s the theory. There’s a lot we don’t know I’m afraid. And trust me, I’ve looked everywhere I can think of -- and had a few other places pointed out to me too."

Xena shut her eyes tight, then opened them again. "So what can you do?"

Brendan sighed, standing. "Not much. There are herbs that can slow it down, but she’s already taking those. In time, I can give her something for the pain, which will come," he said, in that matter-of-fact way that healers do. "Other than that, keep her comfortable, make sure she doesn’t over exert herself, and, well, keep her happy."

"How’s that?" Gabrielle asked.

Brendan smiled. "You’d be surprised what a positive outlook and something to live for can accomplish. Sometimes it’s better than all the medicines in the world. So," he spread his palms, spacing out the words and speaking as if to small children, "keep … her … happy."

He walked over to his satchel, bending down as he began sorting through it. "If she doesn’t wake up within the next, oh, half hour, call for me again. But I expect she will." He took out a small packet, tossing it over his shoulder without looking, Xena easily snatching it out of the air. "When she does, mix about half of that in some tea and see she drinks it. It’ll give her back some energy, but don’t let her bounce around too much, OK?" He chuckled and stood, picking up his bag and moving towards the door. "Oh," he added, without turning around as he walked out, "and a cold compress on that bruise would help. But I expect you knew that…"

Once he was gone, Gabrielle shook her head and let out a long breath. "By the gods, Xena, has he always been that … casual?"

The warrior exhaled as well. "Oh yeah -- that’s his version of a bedside manner." She chuckled lightly, then sighed. "He’s one of the better healers I’ve ever known though. He taught me a lot. I trust his opinion … at least, given what he knows. We’ll see."

Gabrielle slid an arm around her warrior’s waist, resting her cheek against Xena’s solid shoulder as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching Cyrene for a time. At length, Gabrielle asked, "How are you love? You OK?"

Xena smiled, leaning in to touch their heads together as she took her Mother’s hand and rubbed along the back of it with one callused thumb. "Yeah. I’ll be fine." The warrior inhaled slowly, then let out a breath and softly chuckled. "She gave me a scare though, I’ll give her that. We’ll have to start watching her more closely." The tall woman ran her other hand through Gabrielle’s short hair. "And you, my bard … Well, you were terrific, as usual. Kept me from going ballistic again."

Gabrielle smiled. "Well, it’s good to know after five years I’m starting to get the hang of it." She kissed her warrior’s chin playfully. "OK, why don’t you stay here until Mom wakes up. I’ll head down and see to it the tavern is settled and back to normal. Deal?"

Xena turned her head and gazed down into those emerald eyes, amazed again at how lucky she was, at how rare a gift her bard truly was. "All right. Deal." She leaned in, breathing in Gabrielle’s clean scent. "Have told you today just how much I love you?"

The young woman closed her eyes, gave a dreamy half-smile. "Mmm … Said it when we woke up, I think. Wouldn’t mind hearing it again though."

Xena chuckled softly, their faces barely touching, warm breath mixing together. "I love you, Gabrielle of Poteidaia. I will love you through this lifetime, and through all the ones that follow."

"Gods … I love you, Xena."

In the moment of silence that followed, there was a quiet tapping on the doorframe. Warrior and bard looked up to see Rita standing out in the hall, staring down at her toes.

"Um," the young cook stammered, "there’s uh, women down in … in the tavern, want to see G-G-G…" She caught herself, covered her eyes with one hand. "They’re Amazons," she finished, then turned and disappeared down the hall. They could hear the footsteps turn into a full run before the young woman reached the stairs.

Xena and Gabrielle looked at each other, both of them puzzled, for a myriad of reasons. Finally, the bard shook it off. "By the gods," she chuckled, "what else could happen today?"

"I wouldn’t ask that too loudly," Xena muttered, then stood, hauling the smaller woman to her feet as well. The warrior took a moment to make sure Cyrene was resting quietly, adjusted the collar of Gabrielle’s shirt, then gestured towards the door. "After you, my Amazon," she smiled.

Gabrielle just rolled her eyes and led the way. The crowd in the tavern had apparently left, and the two leather-clad women who stood in the middle of the room were both fidgeting nervously. "Amarice?" the bard exclaimed as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

The small Amazon turned her head in their direction and let out a long sigh. If she was surprised to find an Amazon Princess in peasant clothes, she gave no sign. In fact, Amarice seemed positively relieved. "Artemis be praised! Princess Gabrielle, we’ve found you!" Together the two Amazons strode over and fell to one knee before the bard.

Gabrielle gave a crooked half smile, just as inwardly relieved. Well, she’s still calling me ‘Princess,’ so I guess that means nothing’s happened to Chilapa. The bard shuddered, thinking of the last time Amarice had come looking for her, calling her "Queen" … after Ephiny’s death. Oh Ephiny…

Gabrielle shook it off, then rolled her eyes and gestured for the two women to rise. "Come on Amarice, get up. You know I don’t go for all that -- and it’s good to see you too." I hope anyway. They clasped forearms, Gabrielle secretly, slightly tickled as always that at least there was one Amazon who was shorter than she was. The bard then extended a hand to the much taller, curvaceous blonde standing to one side. "Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before."

"Oh! I’m Leah," the blonde replied, practically vibrating with nervous excitement. "I’m a scout and hunter and you’re right, you’re right we haven’t met but I was there when you took the Queen’s mask and stood up to Velasca years ago and you were … Well, I always wanted to tell you that was great! Really, really great! Wow!" The words all came out in a single rush of breath as she enthusiastically pumped Gabrielle’s arm.

The bard, for her part, just stood open-eyed at this display of adoration before gently pulling her hand back. "Well um, thank you. It’s nice to meet you too," she said, catching the low snicker of amusement coming from her partner behind her. "And Leah, this is Xena," she said, with just a hint of irritation.

"Oh right," the blonde said, her enthusiasm still in place, but clearly a notch or two down the scale. She extended her hand again. "You’re Gabrielle’s … um, champion. I was fifteen summers when you fought Melosa, and help make peace with the centaurs. That was pretty great too."

"Thanks," Xena responded wryly, clasping the offered forearm.

"Right, well," Gabrielle broke in, having noticed the two Amazons’ haggard faces and generally disheveled appearance, "you’ve both traveled a long way to be here. Why don’t I show you to a room, let you wash up, get you something to eat and drink?"

Amarice clearly mulled that one over for a moment, then let out a short sigh. "Yeah, thanks. That’d be best -- I’ve got dust and brambles in places I don’t even want to think about." With that the two Amazons turned and went to retrieve their packs from where they’d been dumped near the door.

Noticing the oddly conflicted look on Xena’s face, Gabrielle placed a hand on the warrior’s arm, rubbing lightly, and said, "I’ll take care of them. You go ahead and sit with Mom."

Blue eyes turned to look at green, and Xena gave a half smile. "Thanks," she said warmly, then glanced at the two young women. "But do me a favor -- whatever it is they’ve come to talk about, wait until I’m with you to discuss it, all right? I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

Gabrielle nodded slightly. "That makes two of us," she smiled wryly. "I’ll have Jed draw them a bath. That ought to keep them occupied for a while."

Xena chuckled quietly. "Well, they’re Amazons -- a bath should keep them busy at least until dinner."

Gabrielle gave a low snort, glancing in their direction as Leah attempted to pick up both packs and Amarice possessively snatched hers back with a few sharp words. "Aw come on Xena. I don’t think the two of them are, um, involved."

Xena snorted back. "Hey, if I thought that, I’d have said midnight."

Xena was replacing the cool cloth over the bruise on Cyrene’s cheekbone when her Mother slowly opened her eyes. "Xena?" she said slowly, lifting a hand to cup the warrior’s face. "Hey little girl, what…" She looked around, visibly gathering her wits, then gave a soft, vaguely exaggerated groan. "What happened? Feels like I got kicked in the head." She chuckled.

"You fainted," Xena replied quietly. "Hit something on the way down. Nothing too serious."

"Hmm, well. Glad to hear that." The older woman sat up a little, Xena reaching behind her to adjust the pillows, earning a soft, "Thank you." Cyrene looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a rueful smile. "Fainted huh? Wasn’t expecting that for a while yet. Guess I should’ve listened to Brendan after all."

Xena returned the smile in kind. "Yeah well, that’s pretty much what he said." The warrior sighed, then fixed her with a look that was mostly playfully chiding, but with an edge of quiet desperation underneath. "You have to start taking better care of yourself Mother. You don’t have to run this place alone anymore, you know? There’s plenty here to help, and we can always afford to bring on more. It’s not like when we were kids."

For a brief moment, Cyrene’s face took on a pained expression, then she blinked. "You’re right," she said, taking a breath and shaking her head slightly. "You’re right. Just an old habit, hard to break." She smiled, rolled her eyes. "Well, Pericles’ daughter, Ariel, has been wanting to work here since she was practically old enough to talk. Guess I could bring her in. Have to warn you though, she might not work out -- grew up to be a horrible flirt, and I don’t run that sort of inn." She chuckled again.

Xena chuckled back. "I’ll keep her in line, trust me."

"That, I believe." Cyrene patted her daughter’s arm. "All right, so what do I do now? Lie here for the rest of the day, or can I actually get up?"

"Brendan gave me something to get your strength back, but said I should make sure you don’t let it go to your head," the warrior replied.

"The way my head feels, no problem," Cyrene smiled, gingerly touching the bruised side of her face. Then she looked serious. "And listen, after dinner, I want to have a talk with everyone about, well, this place, and you, and, well, everything. All right?"

Xena looked away for a moment. "Maybe. While you were … out, some Amazons arrived, looking for Gabrielle. We don’t know what it’s about yet, but I get the feeling it’s nothing good. We’ll see how that goes first, all right?"

Cyrene pursed her lips, then shrugged. "Never a dull moment with you two, is there? Come on, fix me whatever it is that Brendan wants me to swallow." The older woman pouted deliberately as she crossed her arms. "I may have to take it easy, but I have no intention of spending the whole day in this bed."

As it was, it didn’t quite take Amarice and Leah until dinner time to wash up and rest a bit. Gabrielle didn’t exactly know what to make of them either. The bard couldn’t help noticing that although Amarice had mellowed some, especially towards her, she still had enough brashness ingrained to unceremoniously dump Leah’s pack off the preferred bed by the window and claim the bed as her own, and was clearly put out at having to share the tub even though it was easily large enough for two. On the other hand, although Leah was very nice and deferential almost to a fault, Gabrielle thought the blonde could give even Aphrodite a run for her money in the clueless department.

What’s the Nation coming to? Gabrielle thought wryly as she left the pair to soak while she went to find them something to eat. If that’s the best the new generation has to offer, we’re in trouble.

The inclusion of herself as an Amazon in that statement, not to mention her almost instinctual concern for the state of the Nation was an unconscious impulse that wouldn’t dawn on her until later. By then, this and a lot of other things would have fallen into place in the mind of the young woman who held Terreis’ Right of Caste.

In the present though, Gabrielle was simply happy and relieved to find that Cyrene was conscious again, and apparently none the worse for her fainting spell earlier -- a bruise or two aside. The innkeeper sat with her daughter at the tavern bar, chatting easily and in good spirits. The bard joined them, shuffling up next to Cyrene so the older woman was between herself and the warrior, and for the next hour the three of them talked mostly about who in Amphipolis could be counted on as reliable help running the inn.

Then a loud whisper came from the stairs. "Will you just let me do the talking!"

Gabrielle looked at Xena and rolled her eyes, then tapped a finger on the bar a few times, betraying a nervous edge before rubbing a hand along Cyrene’s back. "Well, guess it’s Amazon business for a while," the bard sighed. "Can we use one of the dining rooms?"

"Of course," Cyrene smiled. "I’m not too up on Amazon customs, but what can I bring you? Wine? Cider?" She lowered her voice. "Manacles and chains? Cloth gags?"

Gabrielle laughed in spite of herself. "I don’t think it’ll come to that." Then she glanced over at the spunky little Amazon and the talkative blonde. "Still, if you’ve got those handy…"

That got a genuine laugh from Xena. The warrior shook her head. "Let’s just do this," she sighed, with an air of resignation that wasn’t entirely exaggerated.

Finally, the warrior, bard, and two Amazons were settled around a table in a room away from eavesdroppers. Gabrielle took a breath and asked, "So, what’s going on that you had to look for me?"

With a stern glance at Leah, Amarice faced her Princess. "The real problem is that nobody knows exactly what’s going on. I mean, yet."

"Off to a great start," Xena murmured. The warrior leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Could we get to the part that involves Gabrielle?"

Amarice paused, then said, "Well, maybe a fortnight ago, the High Priestess of Artemis, you know, Terisia? She was finally given a vision -- ‘bout time if you ask me…"

"Wait a moment. Finally?" Gabrielle blinked, confused. She shook her head, held up a hand. "I’m sorry. Back up. Why was Terisia after a vision in the first place?" The bard knew Artemis was a "hands off" type of goddess. Her gifts were indirect -- plentiful game and a mild winter were typical of the Huntress’ favor, perhaps once or twice she’d sent bad weather to plague an enemy. That was it. The goddess trusted the Amazons to take care of themselves, and the women of the Nation were proud to be able to do so. Of all the gifts of Artemis, the ability to fend for themselves was the one the Amazons held dearest. Let those beholden to other gods demand miracles all they wished -- Amazons had each other.

In fact, in her time studying Artemis, Gabrielle had become convinced that the Huntress’ greatest boon to her people was in her skill at keeping the rest of the Olympians from doing them any harm, even when some favored person had reason to demand it -- like, Gabrielle suspected, Hercules, who had once had a direct line to Zeus himself. Even when Velasca had swallowed ambrosia and tried to kill Gabrielle as Queen and usurp Artemis as the Amazons’ deity, the Huntress hadn’t seemed to get involved. Always figured it was because she knew Xena was there to protect me, so why should Artemis have to bother? the bard mused. That her warrior was a stand in for divine help was a bit of wonder that passed so quickly Gabrielle barely noticed.

The times in Amazon history when they asked Artemis to intercede directly could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Gabrielle felt her stomach begin to twist into a tight knot.

Amarice clicked her teeth, thinking. "OK, guess it really started towards the beginning of spring." She straightened in her chair, a bit self-important with imparting knowledge. "Once every five years, the Greek Amazons send a group of sisters to live with the Amazons of Mesopotamia, and they send women to us."

"The divine sisterhood, the three-fold pact," Gabrielle broke in. "The covenant of Greek Artemis, goddess of the hunt, Mesopotamian Nanaja, goddess of war, and Marena, Siberian goddess of death." Slowly, she recited,

"Through Artemis the Hunter the Amazons survive.
Through Nanaja they know of battle.
And by the far away indulgence of Marena,
Alone on the snow-tossed Steppes,
Do they find rest in the peace of Eternity…"

Gabrielle caught herself. She let out a breath. "Sorry … Bard thing happened there. Old story, never mind. Uh, go on." She waved a hand.

Xena, Amarice, and Leah stared at the short-haired woman for a moment. Finally. Xena asked, "You know that?"

"Yeah. Of course," Gabrielle replied, a bit uncertain. "The Amazons have it on a scroll somewhere, I’m sure. Stuck with me." She shrugged, a bit uncomfortably, then gestured towards Amarice. "You were saying?"

The small Amazon shook her head as if to clear it, then said, "Yeah, well, anyway, the Mesopotamians never arrived. Wasn’t a big deal at first -- I mean, sometimes they say it takes a few weeks longer, since they come a long way. But then it was months. The elders said that even if something major happened, at least one or two would’ve been sent ahead, and it’s too important for them just to forget."

Gabrielle furrowed her brows. "Has this ever happened before?"

Amarice nodded. "That’s what got the council so upset," she said. "Ten, twelve years ago, the same thing happened with the Siberian Amazons. Well, you can see the implication. That’s when Terisia decided to ask Artemis directly what was going on."

Gabrielle watched as for a moment Xena looked like she was going to fall out of her chair. Instead, the warrior stood and walked out of the room, disappearing so fast she might as well have never been there.

The other three women stood. It was Leah who asked, "Why did that hurt Xena? She feels…" The blonde stopped herself, then looked at Gabrielle. "She needs you, and you want to help her. You should go."

The bard nodded and left without a word.

Amarice turned on Leah, taking a step forward until her face was within inches of the taller blonde’s. "You said Xena felt something. Tell me what you think you saw." When Leah hesitated, Amarice poked her in the shoulder. "I’m your elder dammit, and I said tell me!"

"Guilty," Leah said, just above a whisper. "Xena feels guilty."

Gabrielle found Xena just a few paces down the hall, leaning with her palms flat against the wall, head slightly bent. The smaller woman could feel the tension radiating off the warrior, as oppressive as the heat of a desert sun.

Without hesitation the bard crossed the short distance and wordlessly wrapped an arm around the taller woman’s waist, leaning her head into the solid shoulder. After a moment the stiff, corded muscle relaxed a bit, then the warrior turned and gathered the bard in her arms. They silently held each other for a long, lingering minute.

Finally, Xena kissed the blonde head and pulled back slightly. Never fails, does it my bard? The warrior mused. With just a word, or a touch, no matter how far I go, you bring me back. Always have, almost since we first met. Any wonder I would endure death and beyond for you? Gods how I love you, Gabrielle.

Green eyes turned up to blue, and the smaller woman said softly, "Let it go, Xena. It was a long, long time ago, and you know you made things right. The Siberians are back again, thanks to you."

Xena smiled wryly. "And the past is the past. Yeah, I know." The warrior tightened her hold, sighing. "It was the worst thing I ever did, Gabrielle. They don’t call me Destroyer of Nations for nothing. There’s some part of me that will never get over it. And maybe… Maybe I shouldn’t," she observed quietly, then sighed. "But it isn’t just that. Mostly I’m worried. If the Mesopotamian Amazons have been wiped out too…" She took a breath. "I’m worried for you, Gabrielle, especially since Artemis is involved. This is can’t be good."

"I know," the bard replied simply. "And I’m worried too. Let’s just see what else Amarice has to say, OK?"

"All right," the warrior smiled, a bit strained. Yet her black mood had seemingly lifted enough to respond familiarly, "Deal."

Returning to the room, they found Amarice and Leah pensively sipping their mugs. Gabrielle took a breath and sat back down, the warrior following. "So," the bard began, more nonchalantly than she felt. "Tell us about this vision."

Amarice swallowed with a surreptitious glance at Xena. "Well, it wasn’t much really," the small Amazon replied, "all Terisia would say was that you were needed back in the Nation -- ‘Artemis has spoken. Gabrielle, our Princess, once Queen, must return,’ was how she put it exactly. Since then she’s been shut up inside the temple and won’t speak to anyone. Hate that annoying cryptic stuff myself, but Chilapa and the elders took it pretty serious, so they started getting ready for war and sent us to find you. That was about two weeks ago."

Gabrielle found herself staring at the polished surface of the table, her mind in a whirl, just trying to take it all in. I’ve been summoned by a goddess, was her first thought, followed closely by, Merciful … She gave a quiet gasp. I’ve been summoned by my goddess! Xena? Um, I need your help here…Then, But how can I? Mom needs her too. Needs her more … Gods, dammit, why me? Why now?

Xena sat with her face carefully neutral, but her mind was racing so fast she could barely get a grip on it. Dammit, why now? was her first thought. We were doing so well here. It was almost … normal. Peaceful. For the first time we’ve ever known. Why can’t the gods just leave us alone?

Abruptly the warrior’s recalled talking with Lilith years ago, that night when the immortal had finally nudged her into admitting what was in her heart. What was it Lilith said? ‘I believe, although I do not know with certainty, that Gabrielle was somehow Artemis’ chosen even before Terreis gave her the Right of Caste -- it’s possible this is why it happened.’ Xena shut her eyes, her immediate impulse to send a bitter thought to a certain divine Huntress. I don’t care if that’s true Artemis -- you can’t have her. I need her too much, and I don’t give a fig what you want.

The warrior was barely aware of Gabrielle speaking. "Well, thank you Amarice, Leah," the bard was saying. "I know you came a long way to tell me this, but it’s a lot to have to sort through…"

"Like what?" Amarice broke in. "It’s a pretty simple…"

Gabrielle slammed her fist on the table, causing Xena’s eyes to fly open even as it stunned Amarice into silence. "I said," the bard practically growled, "it’s a lot to think about. And nothing is ever simple when the gods are involved. If I know anything, I know that." Gabrielle stood, blinked. "You’re welcome to stay here. Tell Rita if you need anything. I’ll let you know what I’m going to do … soon."

With that, the young woman gave Xena’s shoulder a squeeze and left the room.

After a moment, Leah began, "She’s feeling…"

"Oh give it up," Amarice groaned.

A moment later, Xena left without looking back or saying a word.

The warrior found Gabrielle outside, facing the setting sun, standing near the low, perpetually unfinished rock wall that bordered the inn’s back yard. The young woman stood with her arms crossed, a picture of tense indecision, and for a moment, Xena debated whether to stand next to her in silent comfort or try a hug.

As Xena crossed the yard, her need to hold the bard won out, and she wrapped her arms around tense shoulders, tucking the blonde head beneath her chin. Gabrielle settled back into the embrace, but remained silent, and together they watched the sun disappear over the horizon.

As the last rays began to burn themselves out against the sky, Gabrielle turned in her warrior’s arms. "Take me to bed, Xena," she whispered against the velvet skin of her warrior’s throat. "I need you. Just need … you." She raised her head, looking deep into her partner’s eyes. "Would you carry me there? Like you used to?"

"No problem," Xena replied, smiling, her voice more casual than the warrior thought she was capable of that moment. She scooped up the smaller woman in her arms.

Gabrielle sighed and let her head rest on Xena’s shoulder. Closing her eyes, the bard could almost imagine she was a young village girl again, surrounded by the protective embrace of the tall, strong warrior who had rescued her so long ago.

Once in their room, Gabrielle practically tore Xena out of her peasant clothes. Falling together on the bed, the bard’s lips sought her partner’s hungrily. Hands roamed freely over silken skin and corded muscle as the younger woman sought reassurance in the comforting, familiar contours of her tall lover’s body, even as the warrior surrendered herself freely to it, letting go, drifting within her bard’s passion, running her own hands through short, blonde locks, moaning softly.

"Xena…" Gabrielle whispered huskily against toned, quivering flesh, lips and hands seeming to be everywhere on the warrior’s body at once, "you feel so good … so warm … so much a part of me…" Slim, strong fingers probed at Xena’s folds, the young woman humming in pleasure at the generous moisture seeping there, the young woman cutting short her warrior’s cry of passion with a deep kiss.

Gabrielle quickly pushed the dark woman toward a fierce climax, then drove towards another without pause. A third powerful shudder spasmed around the young woman’s fingers before Xena gripped the bard’s wrist and gasped, "Nnnhh … Gabrielle … good … Enough…"

Withdrawing slowly, cupping her lover’s sex and moving her palm in slow circles, Gabrielle kissed Xena’s neck and nibbled her way down between soft breasts, whispering, "Never enough … never enough of you … my dark lover … my warrior…"

Xena wrapped her arms around Gabrielle, holding her just tight enough to stop her from starting again, gently caressing the back of the blonde head as she focused on stopping her own head from spinning. "Shhh … easy Gabrielle. I’m right here sweetheart. I love you…" Slowly, at first breathing as hard as her partner, the bard finally began to relax, holding the taller woman close, her eyes closed tight with the side of her face pressed against the warrior’s chest.

Just give her time, Xena thought, continuing to stroke her lover’s silken hair, then we’ll see what this is about.

That her bard had … appetites, the warrior was fully aware. Although their lovemaking was often slow and warmly affectionate, just as often it was heated to the point of mindlessness. The young woman’s fierce passion had surprised the warrior at first, but she had to admit it made things … interesting, in ways Xena had never felt before. Gabrielle was responsive, giving, possessed an imagination that was by turns softly romantic then deliciously wicked, and Xena often mused that if the two of them lived to be a hundred, they would probably never exhaust themselves in each other.

But this wasn’t just passion. This was desperation, and although her lover’s attention was certainly gratifying, Xena was also aware it was misplaced. For one of the few times in their lives together, Gabrielle was using sex to avoid something -- with herself as much as with Xena. No matter how the warrior looked at it, that wasn’t good.

"Slow down Gabrielle," Xena said softly, gently turning them over so she could cover her smaller lover’s body with her own. "I’m here. Got nowhere else to be." She stared into those sea green eyes, dilated with passion and need. Stroking the short, blonde hair, Xena said, simply, "Talk to me."

Gabrielle seemed to sag, then nodded. A moment later she took a deep breath before turning them again and settling into her favorite spot -- head on the warrior’s shoulder, legs twined together, her hand on Xena’s hip. The bard was silent for a time, and Xena held her patience, even as she held the smaller woman close.

"I have to go to the Amazons," Gabrielle said finally, simply. "There’s no way around it. I’ve … They’re my responsibility, Xena. I’m their Queen, really, and I’ve never taken it seriously."

"Gabrielle," Xena began, quietly, "you never asked for the Right of Caste…"

"I know," the bard replied, shifting over onto her side, but keeping contact along the length of their bodies as she slid up so her green eyes were even with the concerned blue of her warrior. "I accepted being a Princess before I even knew what was going on, but…" Gabrielle paused, let out a slow breath. "But I accepted the Queen’s mask with my eyes wide open. They offered me a place, and a home, when I thought I’d lost mine." Her voice dropped a bit. "When I thought I’d lost you. Gave me a reason to go on when I didn’t think I had one anymore."

Xena pursed her lips, blue eyes dropping to the barely visible scar on the bard’s thigh. It was a testament to Niklio’s skill that it was as unnoticeable as it was, considering the wound had been virtually unattended for two days, and re-opened many times as Gabrielle struggled up Mt. Nestos. Without quite realizing it, the warrior traced a finger over the thin line. Does she mean then, or the other time? Before … Illusia, Xena thought wryly. Hades, it could easily be both.

Sensing her partner’s tension, Gabrielle smiled slightly, brushing a finger over her warrior’s face as she used her other hand to gather the warrior’s fingers on her thigh. The bard squeezed them gently. "No Xena," Gabrielle said quietly. "That’s just the past, and it doesn’t matter anymore." She claimed her lover’s lips briefly with her own.

As they parted from the kiss, Gabrielle looked down, took a breath. "What does matter is that I’ve never really been there when they needed me." The bard paused briefly. "I think it’s time I was, at least for a while. Artemis…" The bard looked away slightly for a moment, then turned back, saying in the same quiet, sure tones. "Xena, she never calls on mortals -- we both know that. Just the fact that she has, that she named me, makes this something I can’t ignore."

Xena took a breath, holding her love closer for a long minute, callused hands running gently over velvet skin. Then the warrior sighed. "I know," she said. "I know." She smiled. Nodded. "Guess we’ll figure out what’s going on when we get there."

Gabrielle raised her head, meeting those clear blue eyes. "No," she replied, in a low, reasonable voice. "We won’t. I will. You have to stay here and take care of Mom."

"Gabrielle…"

"No," the bard repeated. "You heard what Brendan said earlier. Xena, Cyrene needs you. You have to stay…"

"And I need you," the warrior replied, quietly. "And so does Mother. What’s anything worth if we’re not together?"

"I know," Gabrielle whispered, nuzzling forward at the sensitive spot where the warrior’s neck met her shoulder, "I don’t want to be away from you either. You’re a part of me, Xena. So deep inside of me … Gods, I don’t even have words to describe it anymore."

Gabrielle shifted, kissing her warrior softly, and for a time they simply lost themselves in the gentle caress of lips and tongues. Finally, Gabrielle pulled back, until her smaller body was once again covering Xena’s, resting with their faces barely inches apart as she looked down into those clear blue pools she could drown in forever. Then she took a slight breath and went on. "Xena, we’ll be together forever, you know that, but…" she paused. "But neither of us know how much longer Cyrene has."

The smaller woman summoned up all her storytelling skills to sound as reasonable as possible. "I’ll go on ahead, size up the situation. A few days to get there, maybe another week to figure out what’s going on. Then, if it looks like I can’t handle it alone, I’ll send for you. Trust me here, OK?"

The warrior closed her eyes. Trust… When Xena opened them, she raised a hand to stroke her lover’s cheek, then said, slowly, "You said it yourself Gabrielle -- Artemis never calls on mortals. This has to be big, and it will certainly be dangerous, and that probably means no quick fix."

"I know that too," the bard replied, settling back down with her head tucked beneath the warrior’s chin. "But I have to go … and you have to stay. I know that’s not good, but it’s the way it has to be, at least for a while. And," she paused, tried to make herself brighten, "it’s not as if we’ll be all out of contact." She found herself actually smiling, gave the warm skin under her lips a little kiss. "We’ll get Salmoneus to set up a special route on that messenger service of his, right from here to the Amazons, so I can write you every day. How’s that sound?"

Xena found herself smiling a little herself. "Like he’d get rich off us."

"Ah, see," Gabrielle lifted her head, once again looking deep into Xena’s eyes, "so we even help a friend realize a long time dream in the process."

Xena kissed the blonde head, gave long, weary sigh. "Well, I survived the Gauntlet … I guess I can survive being apart for a while."

Gabrielle chuckled in spite of herself. "That’s the spirit."

The warrior wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, giving her a firm squeeze before deliberately relaxing. "So, when will you be…" She almost couldn’t say it. "…leaving?"

Gabrielle shut her eyes tight again. Please don’t let this hurt you, love. I’m hurting enough for both of us… "A couple of days, I think. Give Amarice and Leah some time to rest up, finish the roof at least."

Xena snorted. "To Tartarus with the roof," she muttered, then gently tilted her bard’s head up. "We’re spending the next couple of days right here -- I intend to spend every minute giving you a million reasons to stay safe … and come back in one piece." She rolled them gently over, began kissing a trail down Gabrielle’s neck, nibbling along her collarbone.

The smaller woman moaned softly, tangling her fingers in raven hair. "I’ll always come back to you love … always."