Start All Over
By Absinthe
ALSO, I would like to say that there are some screaming grammatical errors below, but they are quite intentional. This story contains mention of a loving relationship between two women, but I'm steering clear of erotic moments, they interrupt the plot too much. SO , consider yourselves forewarned.
AND last, but not least, this story takes place after "Maternal Instincts" and is operating on the premise that there was no reconciliation after the events of that episode.
Chapter 1:
I never was much good with words. I was ok at stirring people up, but that was easy. The things that were important, the things that could make all the difference in the world, they never came out right. I stood looking out over the crest of a verdant hill, gazing at the warped trees and immense gray protuberances of rock that littered the landscape. Alone, but not lonely. Sometimes I went into towns to buy thread, knives, things like that, but every time I did there was, inevitably, an "incident." But the trips into civilization were unavoidable. I was psyching myself up to face the crowds in Potadeia in a few days. I couldn't let it go any longer, I needed a new dagger, a whetstone, and a few other things I couldn't make for myself.
It may seem strange that I headed to Potedia again, it was the only town I'd been in in years. I didn't really know why. Except that maybe if I kept going back there, she'd be there waiting for me someday. But each time I walked through the village, my soul was burned afresh, and some of the people still recognized me. They called to me, some merely to taunt, others to seek my help, still others wanted just to see if I was who they suspected. I did my best to ignore them.
I turned from the landscape before me and headed towards the footpath that would join the main road into the village. My feet seemed to grow heavier as I approached familiar terrain. People passed me without glancing in my direction, taking me as only another weary traveler, a vagrant perhaps. I avoided them as pointedly as they avoided me. I trudged onward, staring at the ground ahead of me, but my ears listened intently to the people around me. I was on guard as always.
In the marketplace, I traded several hides for a new iron dagger and a roll of strong thread. I looked longingly, sadly at a stack of fresh parchments someone had on display. As I approached the merchant, a fight broke out behind me. On instinct alone I whirled in time to snatch an arrow from the air as it sailed towards the merchant's wife. A stray shot that had nearly claimed the life of an innocent bystander. The merchant gasped, and tried to thank me, but I ignored him. I was focused on the fury building up inside me. How DARE they? How dare they defile this place with their petty brawling? I strode haughtily into the midst of the fight, backhanding randomly, sending bodies flying in all directions. But I was out of practice, and while I dispatched one man, another came at me from behind, I took him out too, and then another came, and another. The men were just looking for a fight, a little excitement, and now they had a common enemy. The square was littered with seven or eight unconscious men. I looked in anger, and disgust at what I had done, at what they had done. Lost in thought, I felt pain explode in the back of my head, and the ground rose up to meet me before the world went dark.
When I awoke with a horrendous headache, I raised my hands to my face. There was blood in my hair. My feet and hands were bound. I blinked my eyes painfully and looked around. I lay on the ground in a dimly lit tent. Stifling a groan, I sat up and looked about me. There were five or six people sitting or standing about. Each wore a heavy brass collar, and shackles.
"And so the dead arise." Someone giggled. I glared at the young girl nearest me. She stared back at me.
"You've been out for two days." She added. I continued to glare at her.
"So..uh.. Who are you?" She asked, growing discouraged.
"Doesn't really matter does it?" I returned with a voice hoarse from thirst. "Got anything to drink?" The girl nodded solemnly.
"Pass the water bucket over here!" She shouted to the other end of the tent. A wooden bucket was passed form hand to hand until it reached us. It was half full of tepid water, there wasn't a dipper so I just did my best to raise the clunky bucket to my lips with my bound hands.
"I'm Erykah." The girl said after I had handed her back the bucket.
"Where are we?" I demanded.
"Where? Doesn't matter WHERE, but I can tell you with WHO." She frowned. "You are now the property of Chaymon, he's a slaver." I stared at her, my head swimming. I was beginning to feel the head wound I'd sustained. I fought back nausea.
"Uh huh." I managed. Erykah's eyes widened. Heavy footsteps approached from behind me, yet I did not turn around. I appraised the big man behind me in Erykah's reflective brown eyes. Sitting up higher, I swung at his groin with my bound hands... and immediately regretted it. Spots swirled in my vision, and my head throbbed when my fists made contact with armored flesh. My head hurt too much for me even to enjoy the grunt of pain the big fella made when I hit him. I heard him stand up, swear, and raise his foot to kick me, but it didn't register with my fuzzed brain in time for me to avoid the vicious blow to my back. Falling forward, I struggled against the darkness that threatened to engulf me again. Biting my lip as I was dragged to my feet, I stayed awake. The brute took hold of the ropes on my wrists, and literally towed me out of the tent into the bright sunlight of midday. I blinked back tears from the light, and continued to be dragged through the dirt. He dropped me at the feet of a tall, lean man.
I blinked up at him through my dirt and blood matted hair.
" I hear you gave my boys some trouble." He leered. He crouched down beside me and lifted my head by my hair. I gritted my teeth and resisted the desire to spit at him. He examined my dirty face.
"Hmm. Not bad, its a shame you're a tad on the old side to be a harem girl." He clucked his teeth. The man I assumed to be Chaymon dropped my head roughly, I snarled at him, he smiled and stood up. He stepped over me.
" I want her healed up, take her to see Pymer, then have her properly restrained." Chaymon tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I see her as something of a gladiator." He chuckled as he walked away. I wondered if he knew who I was. I hoped he didn't.
The big fella grabbed my arms again and dragged me across a bumpy clearing, then into another tent.
"Pymer... Got another one fer ya." he growled
"Put her over here, on the cot." A gentle voice replied. When I had been roughly heaved onto a lumpy cot, a gray bearded man leaned over me.
"Turn your head please." he pressed my chin to one side and deftly probed the back of my skull. "My name is Pymer, I'm a healer. You're going to be all right, your skull hasn't been fractured." He said brusquely. He ordered the guard to bring him a bowl of water and a rag. The brute grumbled, but did as he was told. As Pymer sponged the blood off my face and neck, he asked, "How old are you?"
"I don't know." I had lost track of my age long before the other half of my soul died. Pymer nodded, "Open your mouth." I frowned at him. "OPEN your mouth." The healer snapped, poking the wound on my head. My eyes watered, but I did as I was told. He examined my teeth intently, blinking appreciatively. I wondered what he saw, I hadn't seen my reflection in so long. Pymer pressed my mouth closed with his fingers. He pulled up my leather shirt and felt my ribs. He frowned, I frowned. I did not doubt that he could tell just how many times each of my ribs had been broken and healed just a little crooked. But he asked me no questions. He traced the myriad scars I had earned in many countless battles. He came to the small tattoo over my hip bone. It was of the same design with which my chakram was decorated. I shuddered when he touched it. The healer settled my shirt back over me.
"All right, I want no lies from you woman. Who are you?" He leaned close to me threateningly. I contemplated what I would do to this man once I had turned the tables on him. He slapped me when I didn't answer. I couldn't tell him the truth, it would only put me under closer supervision.
"I-I'm nobody. Just a woman."
"I told you not to lie to me. I won't warn you again." His beard brushed my arm.
"My name is Minya." I said quickly, "I-am-was, an Amazon." I added, hoping to account for the misshapen ribs. He grunted, but something about him told me he wasn't convinced.
"The tattoo? What does it mean?" I had no answer for him. My head throbbed abominably, crowding out all rational thought.
"I thought as much." He sighed. "Don't you worry, I'll have the truth from you." The healer stood up, and came back with a sharp knife. He grabbed a fistful of my snarled hair. Hair that, when clean, hung just past my shoulders. It was one of the few things I had bothered to maintain over the last few years.
"This has to go." he said to himself, and began sawing through my hair. When he was done, I had unevenly cut hair that came only to my jaw.
"If you were young enough to go to a harem, I would have been able to let you keep it." The old man was ALMOST apologetic. I merely stared coldly at him. Pymer came back towards me to check my head wound again, then called the guard back. I was once again, unceremoniously dragged out of the tent. This time I landed at the feet of a muscled man in a slave collar. He measured my neck and Wrists, and at the guard's request, my ankles. After a few minutes of uncomfortable waiting, he returned with a set of tarnished brass restraints. The collar was settled around my neck, and a small rod inserted through the clasp, bent and broken off. It couldn't then be removed without a saw. The process was repeated four more times. Heavy chains were fed through the anklets, and the cuffs. My ropes were cut, and I was set on my feet, but the chains reduced my pace to a frustrating shuffle. I noticed for the first time that someone had stolen my boots.
After my roundabout trip through the camp, during which I had taken careful notice of all I could, I was returned, at last, to my spot beside Erykah. Only this time I too was chained to a deeply driven stake. The guard stalked out, I could see he was resisting the desire to kick me again. Erykah stared once more at me.
"Your hair..." She said sympathetically. I shrugged. It would grow back.
"How long have you been with Chaymon, Erykah?" I decided it was about time to start gathering information. My head continued to throb. I wished absently for a cup of willow tea.
"Well, I think its been about three days." She answered, after counting off on her fingertips. She couldn't be any older than 16 winters. I imagined her as someone's concubine. The image only served to further my determination to get everyone out of here. And maybe to decapitate our friend Chaymon.
"And how long does someone usually stay with him before they're sold?"
"I don't know. I haven't been here that long. They say though, that we're on our way to Athens." She looked fearfully at me. "Where do you think I'll wind up?" Erykah asked. She tugged at her long brown hair, already resigned to continued existence as a slave. I frowned at her, and refused to answer. I remembered that the slavers Dagnon dealt with insisted on at least a three month training period before he took a slave to market. Said they could get about twice what they could for an untrained, unbroken person.
The guard that had taken me to see Pymer returned with two long rods, and I knew immediately what they were for. It was time for Chaymon's whole group to move on. One at a time, we were unchained from the stakes, and the pole was threaded through our leashes. The women to one pole, men to the other. I stood ramrod straight, the blush of fury on my face would not be mistaken for shame or fear. Once the tents were torn down, wagons loaded, guardsmen mounted up, we moved out. A mounted man rode to the front and rear of each line of captives.
It was midmorning by the time we got underway. Though the sun wreaked havoc with my bruised head, I noticed a group of loose people marching close behind the wagons. From their subdued manners, and silent ranks, I took them to be trained slaves. Probably among those that would be sold very soon. We still hadn't gotten far from Potedia. My attention finally turned to the other traffic on the road. I recognized some of the travelers as some of the same people who had pointedly ignored me on the road into town. One stared at us openly, I cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn't look away. After about four hours of walking, with occasional rests for the horses, Erykah was beginning to flag. She was too skinny, wasn't used to this kind of exertion yet, even after three days. The walk had cured my headache, it wouldn't be too long before I could forget about sitting up slowly. Erykah on the other hand.... She stumbled in front of me. If she fell, her neck would take the weight. I lunged forward and grabbed her shoulders. She turned her head and smiled her gratitude and we continued in silence.
Two horses dropped back from the front to ride alongside our line.
"She's not who she says she is, I'm certain of it." I overheard Pymer saying to Chaymon. The slave-trader gave me a hard, long look from up on his white horse. I watched him through the corner of my eye, pretending to be too tired from the long walk to notice them.
"Have her brought to my tent once we're set up for the night." The younger man ordered, and spurred his animal back up to the head of the procession. We continued on until dusk, but once we stopped, the camp was up and the women were preparing a meal within a few candlemarks. All the new slaves were returned to the same tent we'd occupied previously. I learned that some of them would be taken for training after they'd been given something to eat. I was lead immediately to a sizable tent at the center of the camp. Chaymon's camp was laid out reasonably well, I decided, with strategist's eyes. It could have been done better though.
Once inside, the Guard holding my leash bowed, but not too deeply, to Chaymon and Pymer. The slaver ignored our entrance, and continued to converse with Pymer. I took the time to peer about me, to learn the layout of the tent. It was nicely appointed, but not so decadent as to make transporting it all TOO difficult. After we had waited about ten minutes, Chaymon turned to me and waved for the guard to go stand outside after my leash was locked to a post nearby. The shackles on my feet had been replaced, the only thing I was grateful for on the long walk that day was their absence.
"So Pymer, show me this tattoo." The pompous ass demanded. The older man, with what little dignity he could, got up and approached me. I pursed my lips but resolved not to harm him just yet. I would save my anger for the healer's master. Pymer pointed out the tattoo on my hip as well as the battle scars and crooked ribs. I doubted that Chaymon could distinguish the slight deformities of my rib cage, but the stupid man nodded none the less. When Chaymon approached me, leaning his blond head in for a closer look at the small design on my hip, I raised my fists together with the brass chain and slave bracelets with all the force I could muster. They made a satisfying crunching noise when they hit his jaw, sending him flying back into his fold-up table. He lay stunned for a moment, and the guard ran in from outside. Chaymon sat up, blood dripping from his face just as the guard raised his hand to knock me out. I caught his fist midair with one of mine. My left hand hung from my right by the chain, my right fist tightened around the brute's. His face drained of blood. The three men int the tent were too shocked to move until Pymer caught sight of his superior's bloodied face.
"GUARDS!" He shouted, running to Chaymon's side, using a tablecloth to start sopping up the blood that was pouring from Chaymon's nose. My eyes were locked with the guard's. I wanted him on his knees, I marveled at how difficult it was to break his knuckles and remembered a time when it was second nature to intimidate. I did my best 'warlord' face. Three more large men ran in, one still wearing part of his dinner. The tallest of the bunch rushed towards me. I dropped the first brute's crushed fist, and raised my hands to defend myself against these new arrivals. They attacked me at once, and while I fended them off, Chaymon came up behind me and grabbed the leash, hauling back on it with all his might. I stood my ground for a moment before I lost my balance, and two of the big men pinned me down. I spat furiously at the one sitting on my chest.
Chaymon stood at my head, glaring down at me, still swabbing blood off of his face. The guard with broken hand stood behind the slaver, the mangled fist cradled by his other arm. Chaymon snarled, drew his foot back, then stopped himself. He laughed.
"Yes, I think you'll definitely be a great gladiator." Chaymon walked away for a few paces, then turned back to where I lay, "If you try anything woman, anything at all, two slaves will die. Understand?" he demanded.
"And why should I care if you destroy your own merchandise?" I snarled, still panting a little.
"Oh I think you do. Don't think I missed your concern for that little weakling girl today." He turned his attention to the wounded guard. "When we get to Athens, You'll be responsible for spreading the word about her. I want to get her off my hands as quickly as possible."
I was hauled to my feet, and was quite surprised to find myself back with Erykah and the others, unpunished. Erykah was already sleeping fitfully. I lay down and got as comfortable as I could but sleep was a long time coming.
The next morning, I awoke before dawn as was my custom. Erykah's head was resting on the small of my back, and she was still quite asleep. I lay on my stomach, asking myself the same questions I asked whenever my mind had the time. Where was Ephiny? Hercules and Iolas? The centaurs? Minya and Hower? The list of names was immense. I made stories for them sometimes, to ward off the older, darker memories. And to try to avoid wondering about Gabrielle. I missed her so badly, but had forced myself to give up kicking myself about her death. She wouldn't have wanted me to. She gave her life for her people, though I know that if only I had been with her during the battle.. If only...
A squeaky yawn roused me from my self pity. Erykah was stirring finally. The little brunette realized where she was, and began to apologize profusely for using me as a pillow. I just smiled, told her it was ok. Used to sleep like that all the time. Different woman though.
We spent that day traveling, except that night, when I was taken to Chaymon's tent, Pymer was notably absent. My hands were tied behind me that time, and my feet bound closely enough to prevent me from walking. I kneeled in the trampled grass near the entrance to the slaver's abode while he circled around me.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Minya."
"No, stop lying to me. There's something familiar about you..." He gnawed on his index finger. "Tell me who you are."
"Aren't you getting tired of this yet?" I asked crossly.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am. So why don't you end it? Just tell me who you are, and you can go get some rest. Just a name is all I ask." Chaymon crouched a few safe feet away from me, his boots creaked. I glared at him. The longer I could avoid telling him who I was, the more time I would have. There were all sorts of people who still wanted me dead...or as a trophy, but either way, most people thought I was dead. No reason to have this guy broadcasting my whereabouts all over the bloody place. He grunted, I wondered why he hadn't hit me yet. Chaymon stood up and shouted. In response, the doorway parted and a guard with two good hands led a meek Erykah into the tent.
"Now that you two have had a little time to bond, I want you to know Woman, that every time you give me an answer I don't like, she suffers." He smiled, circling menacingly behind Erykah. The girl wasn't looking well. She might not survive the journey if Chaymon decided to make things any harder for her. I nodded my comprehension to my captor. So much for being incognito.
"My name is Xena." I sighed. Chaymon remained surprisingly un-surprised.
"That's the one."He chuckled. "You know, rumor had it you were dead." I just bobbed my head. That's the way it was supposed to be you son of a hydra.
"BUT, Pretty soon everyone will know otherwise...." Chaymon was lost in thought for a moment. The slaver snickered absently, "You know, you put my father out of business when you were running around trying to save mankind."
I didn't remember his father, but that didn't mean he was lying either.
"I want her isolated from the rest of the new ones. Can't have her doing any rabble raising while we're not watching." Chaymon narrowed his eyes at me. "And, tommorrow we'll take a break. I want to see if she's as good as they say she is." He flicked a dissmissal at the guard, and Erykah and I were taken back outside. The brunette shot me a look of awe as another man led her back to the tent.
I spent the night outside, and stayed awake most of the night thinking. The stars were bright through the screen of leaves and branches overhead. I could kill Chaymon first chance I got, but the question was, what would his guards do? How loyal were they? There was absolutely no chance for help from the ouside as far as I could see, and even less chance that any of the slaves that had been with Chaymon for a while had keys to these blasted locks. It was a conundrum, and I felt pretty stupid for having been sucked into it so easily.
I had a dream that night. Or maybe I should call it a nightmare. It's one that I've had before. I am standing in front of a funeral pyre. I have seen so many of my loved ones burned that at first I don't know who it's for. But then, I realize that it isn't me, but Ephiny who is singing the funeral dirge, and I look to my left, and there stands Gabrielle. Light from a second fire dances off the tears that cover her face. I realize then, that it is Solan and Hope's funeral I am watching. Ephiny's song ends, and the other mourners leave us alone. They all know now that I am Solan's mother. What does it matter who knows anymore? Gabrielle tries to apologize, but I cannot bear to hear her voice. I can't listen to her speak my son's name when his death is all her fault.
"Don't you DARE speak his name." I feel the tears start down my face. "YOU LIED TO ME, and if it weren't for you, my son would still be alive!" He wanted to live with us! I was going to tell him! I was going to give him the mother he always wanted! And it was all gone. As my bard walks away into the dark, I invariably wake up.
I woke up from a light sleep, drenched in sweat and tears. Dust clung to my body and my clothes. My chains rattled as I wiped my face, a cruel reminder of my current situation. The moon was waning, her thin light glinted off the brass cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared out at nothing. No more sleep for me.
The sunrise was fantastic, one that Gabrielle would have enjoyed, maybe she would have written about it. Eventually, the camp around me began to come to life. Women trudged to the stream to collect water for cooking, Guards roused and tromped around acting superior. I watched, almost entirely ignored for what felt like forever. I longed to stretch my legs and stand up, take a long walk, a bath maybe and wash out my clothes. But I continued to wait as the bustling slaves cast surreptitious glances in my direction. I imagined that word of my identity had gotten out, and now I was merely an object of great curiosity. At long last, Broken Hand and someone I hadn't seen before approached me. The stranger, his sword clinking against his leg, crouched a safe distance away from me, and stared openly at me.
"Xena the unconquerable." He sneered. "I find that hard to believe." He gestured at my short hair, hair I knew to be shot through with silver strands now. "Undone by Chronos and a band of cheap mercenaries." He laughed hysterically for a moment. "Now, to business. I'm to try you out, see if your fighting skills are what they're said to be. But understand this, if you make one false move, that scrawny little friend of yours dies."
I glared at him harshly. It seemed that everyone I ever touched I hurt. My feet were liberated, and I was led to a hastily cleared area on the outskirts of Chaymon's set up. All but two of Chaymon's men were gathered. Chaymon himself held Erykah. Without preamble, My arms were freed, the chains removed. Then the man with the noisy sword, the one who was here to "try me out" tossed his weapon to one of his comrades. In the moment while his attention was on the sword, I could easily have taken him out, but I bided my time. For experienced slavers, these people were by no means capable of containing me. They just didn't realize it yet. My opponent turned his full attention to me, shifting into a fighting stance. His scars spoke of experience, but his stance spoke of a man who had never been taught how to fight well. I winked at him as he lunged half heartedly at me. I leaned out of his reach. We felt each other out, and once he really launched into an offensive, I allowed him to push me backwards and towards Chaymon.
I started fighting back, deliberately trying to anger him. The trimphant sneer on his face gradually shifted into a grimace of anger and embarrassment. I was making him look like a fool, and I was enjoying myself immensly. As I maneuvered us closer to Chaymon, I sensed the increase in tension, the guards prepared to defend themselves should I try to free Erykah. I was getting nowhere, so I allowed my opponent to press the fight away from the slaver. As the guards nearest Chaymon began to relax a bit, I stepped back from my opponent and made my move. I leapt into the air, flipping over his head, and then continued to handspring wildly until I halted breathlessly near Chaymon, wrenching the blade from his hand, and pulling Erykah away from him. I knocked him senseless with the hilt of his own knife. Spotting the slave that I remembered as having sized and fastened my collar and cuffs, I shoved Erykah to him. I could only hope that he would protect the girl. She stumbled to the ground at his feet, terrified. I turned my attention to the guards that were trying to surround me.
The muscles in my legs ached already from the strain. I vowed never to neglect my drilling routine again. I took the initiative this time and delivered a sharp kick to the chest of the nearest man. He staggered for a moment then toppled backwards. I leapt through the opening in the ring of soldiers and scooped up the fallen man's sword. I twirled it experimentally, flinging the knife into the leg of another guard. I noticed Chaymon's approach this time, and his attempt at attacking me from behind was foiled by the hilt of my sword. I heard his body hit the ground as I continued to fend off the guards. I had winnowed them down to three men, but I was getting tired, and I was starting to make mistakes.
CHOOSE XENA's DESTINY!
The Mega Downer Ending
My vision blurred red, and somewhere I heard Erykah shrieking. The remaining guards were circling warily, and Chaymon was groaning quietly as he started to come round. The screaming stopped, which for some reason, did nothing to reassure me. Suddenly, something wrapped around one of my ankles, and before I could react, jerked. I stumbled forward, my attention focused on staying upright, and in that moment of unbalance, someone swept my feet out from underneath me. I fell hard onto the ground. The world grayed out a bit. Chaymon's boots appeared right in front of my nose, and as I tried to get up again, one of them drew back and swung towards my face. It was the last thing I saw before I woke up several candlemarks later.
My body ached abominably, and I could tell before I managed to open my eyes that I had been slung over the back of a horse. My hands were secured tightly behind my back, and my head hung down the right flank of the animal. I opened my eyes only to find that my face was pressed into a dirty grey hide, I couldn't see anything. Supressing a sneeze, I lifted my head as far as I could, but all I got was a dizzying view of the ground and the flash of dull iron on the horse's moving hooves. The blood pounded in my ears. The remains of the day passed in that manner, my entire being became focused on the unbearable sensation of the blood pounding through the veins in my head.
When at last the caravan came to a halt, someone untied the ropes that held me to the saddle, and I slipped off the animal's back, and fell with a boneless thud into an immobile heap under the horse. I willed my limbs to move, to show defiance, but the strain of the fight on top of the long day combined to work against me. I squinted up at Broken-hand, now the posessor of a find cut across his face, and a nicely mashed nose. I grinned at him, and was rewarded with a sharp kick. The guard seemed happy to give me another one, but was stayed by a comand from Chaymon.
"Hold off on that." He snapped. Those familiar creaky boots appeared again. "Xena Xena Xena...." He clucked his tongue. "You know what you made me do?" he asked, as he motioned for another guard to step forward. This one held Erykah, one of her big brown eyes was swollen shut, and she looked very disoriented... until she saw me. She smiled in relief, and opened her mouth to say something. At Chaymon's signal, the guard holding her snapped Erykah's neck, snapping off her words too. I felt that sickening noise down to the very core of my being, and something inside of me snapped too. I heard a dry, furious, animal like scream and I realized I was making it. I couldn't stop myself, I managed somehow to get to my feet, though both my ankles were bound tightly together. I threw my full weight at the guard, but Chaymon tripped me up easily. I writhed in a rage on the ground, my mind devoid of any real thoughts.
Later, I wondered why the death of a girl I had known so briefly could affect me so profoundly. I thought that she might have been a second chance for me, because she reminded me so much of Gabrielle. I didn't know why, but there was something about the way she moved, the way she talked. It was almost like losing her again.
I passed the next few weeks in a state of utter torpor. I was only dimly aware of riding slung over that same horse day after day after day. Then, on the outskirts of Athens, Chaymon once more showed his greasy face. A matronly woman in a slave collar followed him at a discreet distance. I ws roused from my stupor by the fact that it was mid afternoon, and for some reason the caravan had stopped, and I was kneeling in front of the grey horse. It felt odd to be in a different position after so much time spent either draped over the horse's back, or in a heap on the ground. Chaymon turned to the woman.
"See what you can do to fix her up a bit eh? Make her look like her old self eh?" He said self importantly, hitched up his breeches and sauntered off. The woman stared at me, and for the briefest moment I thought I caught a look of despair on her otherwise impassive face. Broken Hand was nearby, and he cautiously lengthened the chain between my feet, and then dragged me into a standing position. He supported my weight until my deadened limbs would respond, and then the matronly woman grasped my collar and walked ruthlessly towards the bank of a stream. It was barely a trickle of water, but it was enough. Broken Hand watched intently, waiting for any further excuse to resort to violence, but I gave him none.
"Are you really who they say you are?" The woman whispered as she sponged off my face. I nodded mutely, but when I saw the flicker of hope in her eyes, I wished I had told her I wasn't. She cut off my clothes, the only way to get them off without removing the chains. I couldn't bring myself to be either haughty or embarassed about it. She washed my hair, then put henna in it to hide the silver. No one wants an old slave. When she was finished, I stood in a knee length tattered skirt, and a hastily hacked off midriff shirt. Obviously once a man's. When we got underway again, I was walking, and it was a real struggle to keep up because my movement was so hampered by the restraints, but I soon forgot about that. Chaymon was as good as his word in that people were expecting us. Gawkers stopped to watch us pass, pointing and jabbering. I had the presence of mind to straighten my shoulders and hold my head up.
The market in Athens was packed, Chaymon had to send men ahead to clear out a path for the rest of the caravan. He staked out a prime spot, and set out the trained slaves on display. They wouldn't be sold until later though. The sea of people aroud us rose and fell, sometimes leaving a few shoppers in our midst, poking at us, bargaining with Chaymon. I lost track of time, deep in my own thoughts, untill we were lead towards a platform, and Chaymon tok his position at centerstage. He started his routine of selling, building up each slave as they were brought forth, trying to get the most for them. The crowd was in a buying mood, and with each shout of "sold" my heart sank. Another of Chaymon's slaves sold, and my turn up there grew closer. There were over seven hundred people gathered int his corner of the street market, much thanks to the rumor flying around that the Warrior Princess was going up for sale.
I hoped that no one could tell that as I approached that platform I was afraid. It figured that my courage would choose that moment to sell out. I wasn't afraid I would die, I was more afraid of what would happen if I didn't. I din't realize I was being pushed up the steps onto the platform until I was already at the top of it, looking out over the crowd. Chaymon started spewing phrases like "Xena, destroyer of nations" and "The greatest gladiator since..." There was a momentary hush, and then someone in the front row began to laugh. Had I changed that much?
Chaymon declared the the bidding would start with one thousand dinars. The heckler laughed harder, and a few others joined him. But somewhere, someone shouted "One thousand dinars!" And so the bidding began. At last, at 3789 dinars, I was sold. All I could hopewas that it was either someone very stupid, or very eager to see me dead, as at that moment, all I wanted was a quick death. But one that took Chaymon with me might have been more satisfying. The man who came forward wore royal livery. I recognized the kingdom, and remembered the king's daughter. The king's beautiful daughter. Raped and killed by one of my lieutenants oh so long ago. I had killed that man myself. But I doubted that that mattered to the King.
Two days later, he declared my sentence. For pillaging, murder, robbery, and for causing the death of his most beautiful child, the sentence was death. Hanging. As I sat on the horse that was to be engine of my demise, my fingers brown from touching the henna in my hair, I was glad of the rope hanging loosely about my neck, and the uneasy horse between my thighs. I had been here too long, as Ares had once said "Only the youg can die well." He'd been joking at the time but he had also been right. My thoughts were cut off when the animal jumped forward, and the noose tightened.
You didn't really think I was gonna end it like that did you?
The Scooby-Doo Ending
I was sore all over and bleeding from a few minor cuts already. At that point, one of the guards got in a solid blow, and in the moment of disorientation I suffered afterwards, I lost the sword. Spots danced before my eyes, and one of the men circled behind me, trying to knock me forward onto my knees. I tumbled forward a pace before I returned to my senses. His eyes widened in surprise when he looked down to at his chest only to discover the business end of a spear protruding there from. I glanced over my shoulder at the unfamiliar face of a professionalh soldier. He wore the regalia of the Athenian Militia. Smiling slightly then, my lips parted to release a sound I had almost forgotten how to make. My war-cry clearly surprised the other two men still on their feet. Taking two steps backwards, I relieved the now dead man of his blade and disptatched the two remaining guards as quickly as I could.
I was mildly amazed that I had failed to notice the approach of a dozen trained Athenian soldiers and their noisy mounts. Once all of Chaymon's men had been hog-tied, and Chaymon himself restrained, I asked the leader of the patrol force,
"Ya wanna tell me what's going on?" Why would these men be arresting the slavers? The slave trade was legal and flourishing in Greece.
"Well Ma'am, we've been getting complaints that Chaymon's been stealing back slaves he'd already sold, then selling them again elsewhere." He paused, "If you hadn't been able to slow them down for so long, they would still be at large."
I chewed my lip and swiped blood off of my forehead. There's something not right about this. I thought.
I approached Chaymon, grabbed the side of his face and peeled it off.
"Ares!" I shouted. The God of War stood unmasked, his face revealed to the soldiers. The mask in my hand disintegrated into a shower of light.
"Why?" The commander asked. Meanwhile the soldier that had been twisting Chaymon's arm respectfuly released the God.
"Pulling your old tricks again eh?" I sneered, "Thought you'd be sick of trying to get me to go bad again!?"
Ares tossed his head and snarled, "And it would've worked too, if you stupid kids hadn't come snooping around!" This last he directed at the Athenians. So saying, Ares disapeared. "Well, I guess that about wraps it up!"
The Mega Happy Ending!!
I was sore all over and bleeding from a few minor cuts already. At that point, one of the guards got in a solid blow, and in the moment of disorientation I suffered afterwards, I lost the sword. Spots danced before my eyes, and one of the men circled behind me, trying to knock me forward onto my knees. I tumbled forward a pace before I returned to my senses. His eyes widened in surprise when he looked down to at his chest only to discover the business end of a turning spit protruding there from. I glanced over my shoulder at a triumphant, and yet dumbfounded Erykah. Smiling slightly then, my lips parted to release a sound I had almost forgotten how to make. My war-cry clearly surprised the other two men still on their feet. Taking two steps backwards, I relieved the now dead man of his blade and disptatched the two remaining guards as quickly as I could.
Chaymon lay unconscious in the dirt in front of me. Erykah stood behind me, face jubilant. I pondered the mystery of what to do with our former captor. I was so tempted to kill him that I could feel his hot blood gushing out of his neck over my hands... But Gabrielle had taught me better I guess. I tied him up in the most uncomfortable position I could devise and left him where he lay. Erykah dogged my every movement like a lost kitten. Finding the slave who was in charge of fitting collars to people, I set him about releasing all of the people in the caravan, starting with himself. Erykah followed me to the flap of Pymer's tent, but refused to go inside, where the healer was hurriedly packing up what he thought he would need.
I strode into the tent, hiding my exhaustion, and grabbed him by the front of his cotton tunic.
"Pymer, I want you out of here in less than a candle mark. You will take only your clothing, and a few days worth of food." I shook him to punctuate what I was telling him. "You will go on foot, and if I EVER hear of you getting involved in another slavery racket, I will PERSONALLY hunt you down." I released him and tromped out of the tent in a cloud of false bravado. Outside, the now free slaves stood about indecisively, not sure whether or not it was safe to be happy. Their eyes followed me out of the tent, and I tried not to show my irritation with them.
"Well?" I shouted, "Don't you all want to go HOME?" There was an emphatic, affirmative response, but no one seemed capapble of actually DOING anything. Oh for CRYING OUT LOUD. I thought, wiping sweat tainted with blood out of my eyes, I started organizing them into traveling groups, one for each direction. They managed to divide up the wagons and provisions without my help, giving me the chance to get the slave collar and bracelets cut off. Erykah padded along behind me through the woods as I followed my senses to the nearest source of running water. I felt a great weight lift from my heart as the clear stream came into view. It seemed at that moment that everything would be all right. I fell to my knees on the bank of the creek and plunged my face into the icy water.
"Let me help you." Erykah said shyly, using the hem of her skirt to wash my arms and neck while I quenched my thirst and tried to calm the still wild beating of my heart. The cold water soothed the myriad cuts and bruises I had won in the battle. We sat silently by the stream for I don't know how long, just listening to the water and enjoying the taste of freedom. My mind wandered back over the countless streams I had seen in the past, images of Gabrielle filling waterskins, washing clothes, bathing..... But today, my body felt as though it had been run over by a herd of wild horses from a fight that I should have been able to handle one handed. I couldn't blame that ALL on lack of practice either. The only difference between this fight, and all the ones that I had had since Gabrielle's death, was that this time I hadn't been alone. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and asked Erykah,
"Where is your family?" Her bright eyes darkened for just a moment.
"I.. They... They... They didn't make it. Chaymon's men...." She trailed off. I nodded silently, offering what comfort I could with an awkward embrace. "I keep forgetting, and I guess that as long as I knew I couldn't go home.. I could pretend they'd still be there..." She sniffled. I loosened my hold on her, trying to hint that I wanted her to move, but she didnt', just continued to lean against me. It reminded me a lot of Gabrielle again, she had always liked to be held.
"What about you? Where's your family?" She asked suddenly regaining control of herself. I laughed.
"They're long dead." I shrugged. I, I who had once posessed the shortest life expectancy of all my family was the only one left.
"You don't have any children?" She seemed surprised.
"I did. Once." I replied, barely able to get the words out. "C'mon, we need to go check on the others." I said at last, gently pushing Erykah up to her feet. I stood up more slowly, every mucle in my body protesting. I could still feel every blow I'd taken from Chaymon's men. When Erykah and I returned to the camp, all of the guards had been collared and cuffed and chained. The freed slaves were ransacking their captors belongings jubilantly. A middle aged woman carrying a large leather sack waved me over to her, saying, "I think I found your stuff Xena!"
And she had. She handed me the sack, which contained my sword, chakram, and breast dagger, as well as the various items that I had gone to Potedia to get in the first place.
Wearing my weapons comfortably, I found the place where the horses were picketed. Chaymon's people certainly couldn't complain about their mounts. I selected from the herd, a huge black mare. She was no war horse, but I could amend that situation in time. Erykah hung back from the animals nervously.
"Afraid of horses?" I asked.
"No...Not really." She laughed anxiously. I smiled reassuringly at her, and coaxed her nearer to my chosen mare. I pulled her to me, pressing her hand to the animal's velvet muzzle. Erykah grinned foolishly, starting to stroke the horse's face.
"Where are you going to go?" Erykah whispered as if she was afraid to frighten the mare.
"I don't know. Back out there." I waved my hand in the general direction of nowhere. She was staring at me again, but this time with the obvious desire to ask another question. I watched her thoughts run across her face. As much as I wanted her to ask it, I wouldn't push her. At last, she blurted, "I want to go with you." I grinned at her. I would have to toughen her up, that much was obvious, she was still a soft creature, but I'd have her whipped into shape soon enough.
"Its not going to be easy." I said.
"Its all right." She was grinning too then. "I'll learn."
I slept that night with the stragglers who had decided to wait a day before heading home, to make sure everyone got out of the area safely. At dawn the next morning, I rose, ignoring my still aching body, to go saddle up Medea, as I had decided to call my new mount. Packed at last, I returned to the tent to rouse Erykah.
"Come on." I said, shaking her gently. She grumbled a bit, then remembering where she was, sat bolt upright and scrambled to her feet. I grinned at her sleep tousled countenance. "Go saddle up." I had taught her how to tack up the smallish, rather old, but very docile animal she had selected for herself. The other people still hanging around had agreed to give me first pick of the remaining animals in gratitude for their liberation. Erykah went happily about her appointed task, but actually getting onto the little horse was another thing entirely. She may have over come some of her intial fear of the beasts, but she still didn't know how to ride. I boosted her up into the saddle, then mounted Medea. Talking reassuringly to Erykah all the way, we followed the road away from the past, and into a new life, ready to start all over and this time, I was not alone.
The END for real this time!
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