—OOO—

Chapter 9. Conclusion.

'Crossing the Bay'

The liburnian had left the harbour at Dikili some way behind and was now setting its bow north, through the Lesbos Strait. On their starboard ran the coast of Mysia, with the inland mountains rising in the distant haze. To their port rose the high rounded mountains of Lesbos, blue in the morning light. The sea was calm, with only a gentle swell rolling the boat as it ran along.

The vessel itself was a solid example of an average liburnian; a fast low light ship, designed mostly for speed. It did not have the power or armament of a bireme, never mind a trireme; but it could sail faster and was more manoeuvrable: at least for a short period of time. It was, in fact, of the lightest style of liburnian. There was a single rank of oars on each side, handled by one rower at each oar; which numbered twenty-five a side. These ran out through circular ports in the ship's side, just beneath the bulwarks. The rowers sat high, so that their heads and shoulders came above the bulwarks, but they were also protected by a wooden framework with a solid wooden roof. These were sufficiently strong that they were used as walkways and fighting decks for archers, when necessary. At the stern was an open area for the rudder-men, holding the long heavy rudder-beam. Here also the captain stood, ready to give orders to change course at a moment's notice. At the bow was another open area, with a planked surface, where the sharp bow came to its fine cutting edge; the aspect of these boats which gave them extra speed and earned them the title of liburnian.

The main deck sat no more than two metres above the surface of the sea; with the walkways another metre higher. In the open space which ran along the centre of the oar-deck was set a high mast with a single large sail, with lanyards leading from its edges to tie-off points on the bulwarks along each side. Not being an over-elaborate example this liburnian had a simple stern-post rising a mere seven feet in the air, above the rudder-men. At the bow, for the sake of speed, the usual high curving finely carved bow-post had been dispensed with. It was here Xena and Gabrielle now stood, gazing intently ahead, some ten or twelve feet in front of the leading oarsmen.

—O—

"What do you think, Xena?" The blonde Amazon seemed comfortable, for once, as she looked out over the green water. "Only that cargo boat behind us, an' a larger ship over towards Lesbos, heading for Dikili. Probably another merchant, d'you suppose?"

"Yeah, it's a bireme with a dirty white sail, so it ain't Tros." The tall woman raised a hand to pull a lock of black hair back from her face, where the sea breezes had blown it. "It's goin' slow, too. Probably an inexperienced crew, not relentlessly trained like Tros's."

Gabrielle had been searching the horizon to their immediate south and north since they left harbour, for any sign of the dreaded purple sail of Tros's trireme. She knew its sail would be visible long before the body of the ship hove into view; which made her slightly easier in mind, because that really only left the northern horizon to worry about. They could see across to both Lesbos and the Mysian coast; and there was no sign of the trireme in either of those directions.

"Where d'you think he's hiding?" Gabrielle glanced behind her across the open deck, shielding the rows of oarsmen below; then turned to look forward again. "Somewhere out there, apparently."

"Yeah." Xena nodded, as she put a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder. "Where the Strait leads into the North Bay there's a lot of low-lying islands on the Mysian side. The perfect place to wait for your prey."

"And we're Tros's prey."

"Nah, not by a long way." The Princess sneered in that off-hand manner which told so much about her character. "Just because a man has a plan, doesn't mean that a woman can't have a better plan!"

They stood at the prow of the vessel, watching the water slice apart against the sharp bow to explode in two lines of foam and spray. The water particles thus thrown up tasting of salt and the indefinable character of the sea. The white bow-waves slid along the ship's sides, paralleling the regular splashes of the oars further out on each side; then left a wide white wake behind the ship, as it cut its way across the broad bay.

"It'd be better if the decks here weren't encumbered by all this—this—sailing stuff." Gabrielle curled a perfect lip as she gazed at the twin decks running the length of the ship. "What are all these rolls of canvas? They look like extra sails, or something. A gal could trip over them, an' fall in the water, y'know."

"I'd just hav'ta kick off my boots an' dive in t'save ya then, wouldn't I." Xena turned a supercilious eye on her blonde companion. "But it'd cost ya, afterwards."

"Oh yeah." The blonde one raised a ruminative eyebrow, as she in turn gazed into two deep blue pools of sparkling light. "What would it cost, eh?"

"I'd think of something, dearie. Don't worry about that, I have many skills." The Princess grinned unashamedly. "You'd soon find out."

"There's some other ships coming out from Dikali." Gabrielle had been gazing back across the water during this dialogue. "Looks like three biremes. I see the sails plainly, an' their high free-boards, even at this distance. What's goin' on? Is this Gnaeus's doing?"

"He's following a plan, Gabs." Xena smiled that evil smile she reserved for when she was most pleased with events. "We had a long talk late yesterday evening."

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to." Gabrielle nodded, brushing her blonde hair back from her eyes. "I was beginning t'get chilly. I need someone beside me in bed at night. For warmth, y'know. So what'd you an' Gnaeus talk about?"

"Defeating Tros."

"Oh yeah?" Gabrielle turned her nose up at this news, causing a frown on Xena's brow. "Easier said than done, I'd say. I've had experience with that fool now, y'know. I know what he's capable of. And with his own trireme? Well, I ask you?"

"Ask me what, darling?"

Gabrielle paused to give her companion a searching glance. When the tall dark warrior woman began acting in this childish manner Gabrielle knew there was something she was keeping back. Some surprise the bad guys wouldn't like. Gabriele wondered what it was. And, being Gabrielle—

"So, don't keep it a secret." Gabrielle gently punched Xena's arm, eliciting a squeak of pretended pain that didn't fool the Amazon for a moment. "Come on, out with it. I'm waiting."

"Gnaeus has sent three biremes out to escort us to Assos." Xena glanced back at the silhouettes in the distance. "One'll take position off our port bow; the second on our starboard bow; an' the third'll keep in our wake, at a steady distance. That should fix Tros's plans."

As they stood talking a stronger squall suddenly beat down from the mountains of Lesbos over the wide blue sea, straining the boat and making the women clutch the bulwark rail for support. Both women's hair was blown awry for several seconds, and they had to put their hands up to brush stray locks back into position. A fine sea-spray also swept over the open deck, cooling their cheeks and leaving a faint tinge of the flavour of the sea behind.

"Gods, I hate the sea." The Amazon gave the flickering blue surface of the water close by an evil glare. "What d'you suppose it was I did in my youth—to annoy Poseidon so much he cursed me with sea-sickness?"

The Princess pursed her lips, and said nothing. She was getting quite good at saying nothing at the right moments, now.

"Anyways," Xena finally continued, turning her head to gaze forward again. "When Tros decides to come out of hiding, over in the islands to starboard there, he'll find we're too well-protected even for him to attack. We'll be like a squadron of hoplite-cavalry, against a single warrior."

The liburnian had, by this time, sailed well North through the Lesbos Strait; with a fine blue sky, and a fair breeze. The sea all round was now empty, no other vessel's sail being in sight in any direction, except for the three distant biremes now rapidly closing the distance to the liburnian. But the exit of the Strait was fast approaching, leading into the Northern Bay; and it was here, on the Mysian coast to starboard, that a whole range of low-lying closely-packed islands lay; giving fine hiding and protection to any lurking pirate.

Gabrielle had for some time, while her tall dark friend expounded her plan of action, been staring intently at the islands to starboard. If Tros appeared she wanted to know immediately.

"The Captain of this ship has extra hands, too." Xena grinned with that wide harsh expression reserved for the moments just prior to battle—her war-grin. "Didn't you notice most of the rowers on the oar-deck are doubled up; with other men swannin' around who ain't doin' much at the moment?"

"Yeah, I got eyes—I saw them."

"They'll go to help the rowers on each oar." Xena laughed loudly, at the pure simplicity of the plan. "We can turn this liburnian into a trireme, at a moment's notice. Three men to each oar, y'see. Of course we won't be as powerful as Tros; but we'll be faster at manoeuvring.

"And this helps us escape Tros's clutches, how?" The Amazon could come to the point with the best. "You know him better than me. He has the heart of a lion. The brain of a peacock, true; but a one-track mind. And all it'll be tellin' him right now is—Athena's Helmet! Athena's Helmet!"

"Tros has an ordinary trireme." Xena couldn't stop a note of sarcasm entering her voice at mention of her enemy. She favoured Gabrielle with her special sarcastic sneer. "His one sail is large and strong but our liburnian, and those bireme's, can sail much closer to the wind. We can outsteer him by sailing at a much tighter angle across any open stretch of water; using our increased oar-power as well. Gnaeus says this liburnian can sail so close to the direction the wind's coming from it's frightening. It'll be as if Tros is becalmed and we're sailing with a gale behind us. He won't be able to keep up with us at all. Ha-Ha!"

"Well," Gabrielle caught the arm of her companion in a tight grip, belying her small frame. "Now's the time to test your pretty theory, Princess—for here he comes!"

—O—

There was a sudden bustle of activity as the Captain of the liburnian shouted his orders, and the crew jumped to their tasks. Xena and Gabrielle were quickly surrounded by a crowd of sturdy men, rushing here and there in apparent disarray; but which turned out to be highly organised in its end result. Pushed inexorably to the side of the port deck, they held fast to the posts of the light bulwark, to keep from falling into the sea. In what appeared to Gabrielle to be an amazingly short period of time the host of extra seamen had run along the open platforms, from where they had been squatting out of sight on the lower deck. They dived back onto the rowing-deck to take their places alongside the other rowers; and immediately the liburnian dug its bow into the low waves and shot ahead at a greater speed.

"So, you're sayin' we can outrun Tros? He won't be able to catch us? I still think he'll try something. He ain't the type t'give up; even against greater odds."

"You may be right, Gabrielle." Xena reached her left arm out across Gabrielle's shoulder, and pointed across the intervening waste of white-capped waves. "See, he's approaching us—even though he must see the biremes a'ways back."

Indeed, the two ships were slicing through the low choppy waves at a fair speed; their bows sending high curves of sparkling water into the air, and leaving white wakes behind. There was now only about seven hundred yards separating them, and Tros was swinging his huge ship round to parallel the small liburnian. As the two ships came closer Gabrielle saw a flash from the deck of the huge trireme, and a misty shadow seemed to rise into the air above the far ship.

"He's fired something." The blonde Amazon shielded her eyes in concentration. "One of those multiple scorpio's, I think. Lots of arrows."

As Xena too watched intently, the flickering mist seemed to rise between the two ships then descend to hit the sea a hundred yards away from the liburnian in a wave of sparkling splashes like a school of fish breaking the surface.

"Huh! He's well out'ta range." Xena put her hand on Gabrielle's bare shoulder. "He's just letting off steam, tryin' t'frighten us. Lot'ta good may it do him."

The distance between the two disparate ships continued to decrease. Gabrielle shot a glance to their rear and saw that the leading bireme, immediately in their wake, was making great headway and would soon be up with the liburnian. Already she could see frantic activity near the approaching vessel's bow where a catapult was located. Tros was going to have to work fast, if he meant to engage and capture the smaller ship.

The huge purple sail of Tros's trireme, and the high sides of the great ship, seemed to soar into the air like a giant of the seas; an angry giant. He had ordered the oars out and now there was a continuous flash of white water some thirty feet from the vessel's side as the three lines of oars hit the water; driving it ever faster towards its prey.

But the liburnian Captain now showed his own mastery of tactics. His oars were scything through the waves too. And they were going at a far faster rhythm than the larger trireme. The liburnian began to pull ahead appreciatively. But Tros had closed the distance, and now danger threatened.

"Let's get below deck, Gabrielle." Xena grabbed the shoulder of her companion as they turned away from the sight. "Got'ta get out'ta the way of those damned scorpio's. They'll be sending a wave of arrows right across our deck in a moment."

The women ran to the inner side of the walkway, and jumped down onto the rowing-deck. There were wooden barriers set up there, to stop the rowers being shot, and they ducked down behind one of these; the nearest rower gasping and groaning in his efforts just an arm-span to their side. A second later came the evil whine and slithering rattle as scores of arrows found their target on the upper deck; where thankfully no-one remained to suffer injury. The Captain and helmsman were also protected by jury-rigged wooden barriers.

"We're going to veer, and go cut across his stern." The Captain gave the women a determined look. "We'll need to go right close, mind you; but we'll be to near for him to use his scorpio's. Then that bireme should have come up t'give us protection, while we get away."

Suiting the words to the action he gave a few more shouted orders and the sailors once more hauled the large sail round. The ship's bow swung across the water and Xena and Gabrielle saw Tros's huge trireme sliding ever closer. There was initially 300 feet of open water between the ships, scything through the blue water. Then this appreciably narrowed, till only 150 feet or so remained separating them, with the trireme slightly ahead. Close enough for words to be exchanged. The tall bulky figure of Tros himself could be easily made out near the stern by the rudder-beam. He wore a Roman breastplate, shining like silver in the morning sun.

"Ho there." Tros's voice, deep and powerful, echoed across the white-caps. "Surrender, and give me my prize. Or I shall destroy your rowers, and ram you. Xena, you will not escape me this time."

"Tros! As stupid as ever, I see." Xena hung on tightly to a halyard as she sneered at her opponent, and raised her own voice in reply. "The Mysian Navy's right behind us, or haven't you noticed. They're too powerful, even for you. I think I'll keep my Helmet, thanks."

"That'll raise his blood-pressure, He-He!" Gabrielle sniggered, standing close by her tall dark companion.

"Yeah. Maybe he'll be so engrossed in thinkin' of a good answer it'll give our Captain time t'run under his stern. Then we'll have the weather-gauge."

"Oh, Gods!" Gabrielle laughed out loud, her hair blowing freely in the breeze. "That old chestnut again. I love the weather-gauge, now. Bring it on."

"Xena," Tros's voice echoed again over the stretch of water separating the two ships, "You do not know what my trireme is capable of. I can toss your pitiful liburnian like the Minotaur throwing a sacrifice in the air. Those Mysian biremes won't come up in time to save you from my scorpio's. Stop, and give me Athena's Helmet; or I'll fill you full of arrows, like unto a porpentine."

"What's a por—"

"Tros, you ape," Xena, however, thrived on this kind of excitement. "We beat ya all the way here, an' we're gon'na beat your sorry ass to Assos too. Ha, Ha!"

"I fancy we can slip under his stern, just about now, ladies."

The Captain suited this thought to the word; a long string of orders saw the sail close-hauled; the bow swung across to starboard; the rowers slowing their fast pace a trifle; Tros's trireme going even further ahead; and the liburnian's objective clear to all.

"Xena, I shall never give up." Came a pitying wail of anger across the waves. Tros was determined, if nothing else, at least to get in the last word in their personal battle. "I shall have the Helmet; by all the Gods in Olympus!"

"I think they're all lookin' the other way, Tros." Gabrielle grinned broadly, while she shouted her contribution to the long-distance conversation; as the trireme's stern appeared ahead of the liburnian and the Captain swung his ship to starboard. "Hope to Tartarus I never see your big butt again!"

"Yep, he'll be far too taken up with avoiding the three biremes now to give us any more bother." Xena ran a hand through her dark locks, glancing over at the fast disappearing trireme. "Uh-oh, I take that back. He's tacking across towards us. Don't he ever give up."

"Captain, do something." Gabrielle, meanwhile, could only see the danger at hand. "His scorpio's'll be in range again in about two breath's time. What're you gon'na do?"

"Pray to Poseidon, madam?" The captain was engrossed in watching the closing trireme; giving orders to his crew; and trying to think ahead. "Wonder why I didn't accept Eleusis's offer, last month, to turn farmer? Perhaps I still have time to write my wife a letter? I wonder if this is a good time to order some of the crew to stitch the reserve lower mainsail? Will you stand aside, madam? I know what I'm doing."

"He's going to fire the rear scorpio again." Xena gripped her companion's arm. "Get down behind this bulwark. Watch out, Captain!"

A curious deep thump came from across the 120 yards of sea between the ships. A flickering mist rose from Tros's trireme to arc across the sky towards the liburnian. Then the eerie hissing of thirty arrows scything through the air came to the ears of all those on the low-set liburnian. An instant later there came an echoing rattle as they found their targets on the bare decks of the small ship.

"Anyone hurt?" Gabrielle looked up cautiously to inspect the damage.

"No, they all missed everyone." Xena rose to stand tall once more. "How's it going, Captain?"

"Haul away, fore and round!" The stocky man grinned widely. "We're coming round on the wind. Bo'sun, faster pace for the rowers, if you please. We're turning sharp now, ladies. Tros'll never be able to turn his heavy trireme in time. Especially with all that momentum he has. If he tried, the Mysian biremes'll be on him like a pack of wild dogs. See them, over to port? They're nearly up with us at last, thank Poseidon."

"That settles his hash, then." Gabrielle, as was her wont, had gotten the last word in after all; even though Tros couldn't hear her. But the battle wasn't quite over yet.

"Hey! Look-out, Gabrielle." Xena's voice cracked with strain, as she once more grabbed the arm of the blonde Amazon beside her. "He's going t'give us another broadside. Get back below, quick."

The Mysian bireme had now caught up with the liburnian and, as Xena and Gabrielle cautiously looked out over the water, they heard a loud bang as the Mysian ship fired its bow catapult. Instantly a plume of white water shot up, close enough to the trireme's starboard side to send a heavy spray of water across its deck. The bireme was now moving between the liburnian and Tros, determined to protect the one and attack the other. The liburnian Captain gave a further order, and the ship's bow changed direction once more. Another shout from his iron lungs and the rowers, out of sight below the walkways, gave of their best and the ship jumped forward with re-newed energy. In what seemed only a moment the bireme and trireme were left behind; just as a parting shower of scorpio arrows flickered out of the sky to riddle the upper deck once more. But this was the end. Faced with a powerful opponent, who would soon be joined by two further brother biremes, Tros did the only thing possible; he broke off his attack, brought the bow of his trireme round, and headed out into the Bay and the safety of the open sea beyond. He had been beaten.

Another shower of arrows flashed from the rear deck of the trireme; but there was so much distance between it and the smaller liburnian, that the arrows fell far short amongst the waves. A mere leave-taking show of anger on the part of the defeated trireme's captain.

"Ha!" The two warrior women shouted gleefully as one, and slapped open palms together; grinning broadly at each other.

As the attack ceased the liburnian Captain gave an order; several men rushed to the halyards; and the ship's sail was dragged round. The bow fell off to port, and the ship took its new course, heading straight for distant Assos.

The liburnian's deck suddenly wavered under her feet, and Xena reached out to put a restraining hand on Gabrielle's waist as the Captain ordered yet another change of course. Now their sail had been hauled round, and the liburnian smoothly brought its bow across the lively sea heading straight for Assos. Gabrielle saw that Tros's trireme had now been left far behind; his race to intercept them having finally proved futile.

Xena pointed ahead and there, remarkably close now, Gabrielle saw the mountains rearing into the sky; the small harbour with its white marble sea-wall; and the dark silhouette of an Assos navy bireme sailing towards them to give further official protection. High on the peak of the distant mountain glowed, in the sun's brilliant light, the white outline of the great Temple of Assos itself: their final goal in sight for the first time in their long journey. Out on the far deep blue bay the purple sail of the trireme could still be glimpsed, though far off now. Tros had been beaten by a combination of Xena's sharp intellect; the liburnian Captain's great seamanship; and the Mysian navy biremes. An hour later, the group of biremes having given them protection from any further attack, Xena and Gabrielle sailed into safe harbour.

—O—

Xena had opted to take two horses, instead of a cart, to use on the final trek up the mountain. Gabrielle had the Helmet safely protected in a large grey canvas bag at her saddle-bow, as the two women rode up the steep trail in the morning sun. Both were ecstatically happy; Gabrielle more obviously so than her companion.

"So, this is it, Xena?"

"Whad'ya mean?"

"The whole business." Gabrielle waved a hand in the air all-encompassingly, as they rode along. "We get dumped on in Athens to take the helmet; Tros turns up, an' kicks like a baby who's lost its toy; then all that palaver of bein' chased by the idiot all over the Aegean. Now, finally we're here. It's been some adventure."

"Yep."

Gabrielle turned in her saddle as the horses moved up the gently winding trail. There was only tall grass; a few bushes; and the odd patch of old olive trees on either hand; but the air was fresh with a sharp tang from the sea, which spread out from east to west far below. Lesbos could be clearly seen across the bay, its rolling mountains blue in the warm haze. As they rode the horses kicked up a dry dust, which carried a warm earthy scent to the women's nostrils. The sky was blue, without a cloud anywhere. Gabrielle drew her mount to a halt and leaned round to gaze out over the wide expanse of blue sea, lightly etched with lines of whitecaps. On the far eastern horizon a small dark speck could still be made out, outlined against the bright sky, heading into the open Aegean. Xena came up and halted beside the blonde Amazon.

They had stopped off once, to meet a party of officials and priests in the Agora halfway up the craggy hill. It was like a part of Athens, transported to a wilderness. A large Stoa, two-storey's high, rang along one side, with various buildings making up the other three sides. A couple of speeches later and the women were on their way skywards again, to the temple sitting on its pinnacle looking out over the wide blue bay.

"What now?" The dark-haired one affected a bored growl of discontent. "Stop admirin' the view. It'll still be there when we come back down this hill."

"I can see Tros." Gabrielle nodded her head in the general direction, and raised her right arm to point. "See? That dark speck; his purple sail. It looks so small. Have we seen the last of him?"

Xena leaned forward in her saddle and looked long and hard; then turned to her companion with a grin, grasping Gabrielle's left wrist in a firm loving grip.

"Yeah." She nodded, blue eyes sparkling. "He's had enough. Not damn well before time either. He won't bother us anymore. Take a good look. Maybe that's the last we'll see of the damned fool."

"He was sort'a, er, self-centred wasn't he, Xena?"

"An ego as big as Mount Olympus." Xena mused thoughtfully, as they moved on again up the trail. "Always thinks he knows best. Always treats women, even Queens or Ladies, as if they were his house-slaves. Never really trusts a new friend until he's knocked him down in a friendly, but brutal, fight at least three times. He has all the social graces of a brick khazi."

"Ha!" Gabrielle laughed, shaking her head at her lover. "That ain't nice."

"But it's true, all the same." Xena was unrepentant. "He's okay in the right situation, I suppose. But let him think his opinion counts and, Gods, he'll take on airs like—like—like a Roman Emperor! Hey, look. We're nearly there."

—O—

"It's a Doric Temple, Xena." Gabrielle was well launched on her historical lesson; she loved this sort of thing. "As can be seen by the Doric columns. A nice early example. Dedicated to Athena, of course. No priests, only priestesses. A trifle solid-looking perhaps, to some people's tastes; but it'll outlast a hundred earthquakes."

"So, earthquake 101 will do for it, you're sayin'?"

"Don't be snarky, Warrior Princess." Gabrielle curled a lip derisively. "Look, here comes a delegation."

Down the steps from the main entrance, shaded by the column-lined portico, came a group of women in long white peploi reaching to their ankles. The garments were heavily pleated and rippled in the light breeze, giving an effect almost of water flowing over the bodies of the priestesses, as they advanced to greet the two dusty travellers.

"Gods, I feel like a street beggar." Gabrielle whispered, leaning close to Xena's side. "We should'a stopped down in the Agora to have a wash an' brush up."

"Too late now." Xena grinned back at her blonde companion. "Just hav'ta make the best of it ya can."

"Greetings, I am Hemera, High Priestess of the Temple of Athena of Assos. Welcome."

The lady who stood before them was almost as tall as Xena, with long blonde wavy hair to her shoulders. The pure white peplos she wore enhancing her slim and graceful figure. Her brow was high and smooth; her eyes light brown; her teeth, when she smiled, purest white. She had an air of command, yet mixed with a gentle tenderness.

"We have awaited your appearance with great joy." Hemera smiled at both women, then pointedly eyed the canvas satchel hanging at Gabrielle's side on its shoulder strap. "It will be a great moment when the Helmet of Athena is taken into her Temple."

"An' here it is, lady." Gabrielle suited the word to the action, pulling the strap over her head and extending the satchel to the waiting priestess. "All yours. We're glad to be finished with it."

"Ah, no." Hemera shook her head, though with a sweet smile. "There is yet one more action needed. You Gabrielle, along with your friend, must enter the Temple and lay the Helmet at Athena's feet. Come."

Turning, with an imperious air of supreme authority, she walked back towards the portico of the temple; Xena and Gabrielle following in her footsteps, encircled by a horde of young priestesses and acolytes all dressed in white or pale yellow peploi.

Once past the line of pillars, and under the welcome shade of the roofed portico, they entered the central high doorway leading into the dark of the interior. Here, after traversing a small anti-chamber, Xena and Gabrielle immediately found themselves in the main hall of the temple. It was high, rectangular, and about forty feet long by twenty-five feet wide; with a height of about thirty feet. There were open sections in the roof, allowing bright sunlight to flood into the enclosed space. At the far end stood a low altar, and behind this rose a twenty foot tall standing image of the Goddess herself dressed in a flowing peplos painted white. This was made from ash and cedar wood; the face of the image painted in life-like colour; the eyes high-lighted, and the flowing wavy hair painted pale golden-yellow. The statue seemed to stare right at the visitors as they entered.

"Gods, she's lookin' at me, Xena." Gabrielle grasped her companion's hand in a tight grip.

"Don't be silly." Xena bared her teeth slightly, but gently put her own hand over Gabrielle's. "An optical illusion, that's all. Got'cha, didn't it?"

The ceremony, which the priestesses then began, went forward with calm dignity; but only took a few more minutes. After a prayer; a eulogy in praise of the Goddess; and a Song of Triumph from the acolytes, the last formality took place. Gabrielle, with the now unwrapped Helmet in her hands, went forward to the base of the statue; gazed up into the inscrutable face high above her; then knelt and placed the large steel Corinthian helmet on the stone floor by the statue's peplos and sandal enfolded feet. One last song of praise from the female choir, who appeared to be enjoying this chance for a good old sing-song, and the High Priestess led them back out into the sunlight. The duty which had been laid on the shoulders of the warrior women had been duly completed, to the great delight of all concerned. The adventure was over.

—O—

The afternoon sun was still bright, sending wavering streamers of heat-haze flickering across the bare dusty ground surrounding the temple. The building itself was set side-on to the wide bay which it overlooked from its mighty vantage-point. Clearly visible, apparently only a parasang or so away across the smooth blue waters of the bay, lay the beautiful hazy mountains of Lesbos; with a line of sparkling white clouds surmounting their rolling heights.

"There it is." Xena stood gazing out into the distance over the calm water, a hand resting lightly on the shoulder of her soul-mate.

"Yes. Yes, there it is." Gabrielle sighed softly, between parted lips. "Gods. Oh, Gods, it's beautiful."

"So, let's go there, Gabrielle."

Xena grasped the hand of her companion, and together they turned their backs on the mighty temple to cross over to their waiting horses; to begin the descent back to the small harbour, and the liburnian awaiting them for the last stage of their long journey.

—O—

The captain had bidden them a fond farewell, taken his ship back out into deep water and turned his bow for Mysia once more. Xena and Gabrielle had taken their horses and ridden off into the low fields and hills lying close to the coast. Now, after two hours, they were in the country on the slopes of a low rising hill surrounded by straggling bushes, fig trees and vines. All around could be heard the song of cicadas; and a cool breeze, coming straight up from the sea, cooled their brows.

"We're here. At last, we're here, Xena."

"Sure are, darling." Xena gazed around; at the low tussocky grass, green bushes, red earth, and the bright blue sky above. "Nice place; nice day. All the better for being with you, my love."

There was a scent of flowers and rich growing life all about them as they stood beside their mounts, looking back across the low fields and woods to the distant sea reaching to the horizon on their left and to Assos directly in front of them. But all round, as they stood holding hands, was the gentle strumming of insects and the quiet peacefulness of the most beautiful island in Greece.

"Shall we make camp here for the night, Warrior Princess?" Gabrielle's voice was full of a contented happiness.

"Yeah, we can do that." Xena gave the area a quick professional sizing-up. "Yep. A little stream over there, with a deep pool to bathe in. An' a few trees behind us for shade. An' we're off the beaten track, so no surprise visitors. So, what're we gon'na fill the evening with, beautiful?"

Gabrielle, with a wide grin, was already tugging at the strap across her golden-tanned and slightly glistening back which held her top firmly in place.

"Oh, I can think of two things." She laughed with a silvery tinkle in her throat. "One, bathe for half an hour—"

"An' the second?" Xena grinned, and started pulling at her own waist-belt. "Damn this buckle, it always sticks. So, come on, tell me. What, after we bathe?"

"We bathe first, mighty warrior." Gabrielle finished unhooking her top and threw it merrily away; without the slightest sign of modesty, but with a wide grin. "Then—well, Princess-of-my-Heart. This is Lesbos. After we bathe—Love!"

—O—

Notes:—

1. Porpentine.—porcupines. 'Thy knotted and combined locks to part/And each particular hair to stand on end,/Like quills upon the fretful porpentine'. 'Hamlet', Act 1, Scene 5. Shakespeare.

2. Brick khazi. English slang for an outside toilet, in a separate brick shed standing by itself.

The End.

—OOO—