Chapter Nine: Leave Takings

Callisto led the two horses out of the stables behind the inn, their reins gripped tightly in her hand. She had called in the debt the inn keeper had said he owed her and wound up with the animals he used to pull his cart when he rode to nearby settlements. Callisto had thought they would make better time mounted,but truth be told, from the looks of the two animals, they would have been better off walking. Both were old dappled nags with thin frames and an even step that was more suitable for children learning to ride for the first time than it was for serious cross country work. Still, she would have to live with what she had, and according to the inn keeper they were the best that was available beyond the horses used by the mercenaries. Considering her relationship with Methades and her doubts about him, she did not expect him to lend her any of his animals willingly. Besides, Methades, Atrix and the other mercenaries were still out on patrol rendering the whole issue moot.

She rounded the corner of the inn and immediately spotted Silas and Dahlia speaking quietly. Silas had a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder and she wore a concerned expression on her face. Callisto was pretty certain she could guess what they were talking about. For some reason she could not fathom that seemed to bother her more than she thought it should, and certainly more than it would have in the past. Why did she care what some pregnant blacksmith's daughter thought of her? The image of Dahlia's terrified eyes in the burning house came back to her, but for some reason it was not only Dahlia's eyes she saw. Instead there were many more, dozens upon dozens of them, all wide and filled with horror at the sight of her. Some of them she recognised more than others, but all of them seemed familiar.

She blinked several times to dispel the unbidden memories. Taking a deep breath, her shoulders squaring, her back straightening, she affected the confident but poised stride that had always come so easily to her before and began to head toward them both.

The two of them turned to face her, Silas looking resigned, Dahlia looking unimpressed. She did her best to look unphased by Dahlia's even stare as she came closer.

"Am I interrupting something?" she said.

"Nothing that can't be discussed later," said Silas, casting a warning glance at Dahlia before crossing to the horses.

He placed a rough and calloused hand on the muzzle of one of them and the animal let out a soft snort and nuzzled against his palm. Being a blacksmith, he clearly had a way with horses. Callisto was fairly certain that if she had done the same the beast would have tried to bite her. She had never had much of a way with animals.

Dahlia folded her arms with a harrumph.

"Just be careful on the road," she said, never taking her eyes off Callisto. "I know traveling by daylight is quieter but that doesn't make it safe."

"I'm sure Eve here is more than capable of taking care of me," Silas replied, turning back to face her. "And besides, I'm hardly defenceless."

For the first time, Callisto noticed the heavy looking blacksmith's hammer hanging through a loop at his waist. She supposed it would make a handy weapon in a pinch, but thinking about it, she suddenly realised she didn't have a weapon of her own. She was certain she could handle anything that they might come across outside the village, but still, a weapon of her own would have been useful.

As if on cue Silas produced a slim stiletto dagger from his belt and turned to Callisto.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "I think you could use something like this out there more than me."

Callisto's slim fingers wrapped around the hilt, and immediately something about it felt right to her. She flipped it a couple of times, its blade flashing brightly in the sun as she did so. The weight was finely balanced and the hilt well wrapped. It was not so smooth that it would slip easily from her grasp, but nor was it so ornate as to be uncomfortable in her grip.

She looked up at him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dahlia watching her uneasily.

"It's perfect," she said, and she was sure she saw the other woman shiver at that. "Where did you get it?"

"I didn't always make my living shoeing horses and fixing wagons," said Silas, and with that he pulled himself up into his mount's saddle. "Now we should get moving if we're going to make it to the Headstone and back before dusk."

Callisto nodded, not needing to hear anymore about Silas' past, and vaulted easily onto the back of her own horse. The two of them turned their horses and Silas began to ease his horse forward in the direction of the village gates at a steady trot.

Callisto was about to follow suit when she felt a hand at her knee. She looked down to see Dahlia staring up at her, her eyes filled with worry.

"Eve, I don't care about what you said before. I think you're a good woman, even if you don't think so yourself."

She glanced in Silas' direction.

"My father has always tried to defend the village however he can," she continued, "but it's different now. He has a grandchild on the way, and he's getting too old to be going out and playing the hero like in one of his stories. Please, I'm begging you, just bring him back safe."

Callisto was not sure what to say. For a moment all she could think of was the imploring look in Dahlia's eyes. She had had people beg her before many many times from many different mouths, and always for their own lives or the lives of those closest to them. She had spared a few of them, mainly for her own reasons, but most of the pleas she had heard had gone unanswered, or even been met with sneering disgust. This was different, but she could not put her finger on why. Finally she gave a simple, slight nod, then urged her horse forward to catch up with Silas.

She reached the blacksmith after only a minute or two, and soon the two of them were riding together over the open grass that surrounded the village and then up the track that lead north through the forest and out of the basin. She suspected the ride would be a simple one. Atrix and the other mercenaries were out patrolling, and Silas had said that usually kept the bandits at bay. Caelon's men apparently had a tendency to roam fairly far and wide during the day and rarely massed in large numbers. Callisto presumed it was to keep the mercenaries guessing as to the locations of their camps, but if her theory was correct then the presence of the mercenaries would not factor into it at all. The bandits stayed away because it was more worth their while to do their business elsewhere, and merely make an occasional raid or attack to keep the villagers of Penthos living in fear and paying their mercenary protectors.

They rode in silence for the most part, Silas not seeming particularly interested in small talk and Callisto uncertain as to how she would make it even if he had been. The silence suited her better anyway. She simply did not have anything to say. Instead she cast her mind back to their conversation at the forge earlier that day.

Silas had been right to ask what sort of champion she was supposed to be. All her adult life she had had one goal, and one goal only. Make Xena suffer. Then suddenly, and completely unexpectedly she had achieved it. She had sat alone in the dark and listened to the screams of her most hated enemy as they discovered that their own family, their own blood had been taken from them the same way they had taken hers from her. She had just sat there and listened to those agonised cries of anguish, luxuriating in them and the calm they had brought her. For the briefest moment she had been free; free of all the hate and rage, free of all the fire and bile that had burned inside her for so very very long. Then it had all come washing back over her again like a tremendous tidal wave, picking her up and tugging her this way and that when all she had wanted was for it all to stop. Since that day, she had realised that there was no peace to be found for her, and by extension, no place in the world for her either. When the opportunity had come for her to die, to truly end her suffering, she had jumped at it.

The fact that it had not worked was most vexing to say the least.

She glanced up at the sky. The sun was well past its zenith now and the shadows of the trees were beginning to lengthen in the mid afternoon light as they emerged from the forest that covered the majority of the basin. The trail ran steadily northward the way she remembered, up and out of the basin toward the crossroads. The sound of their horses' steady trot filled the quiet country air, the only other sound being the distant wash of the ocean against the shore and the occasional bird song.

Their journey up and out of the basin was as quiet and uneventful as their ride through the forest. As they crested the lip of the basin, Callisto caught sight of the landscape beyond. As she remembered, the trail ran north with another thick forest to the east. To the west was all rolling hills and grassy plains, dotted with the same rocky outcrops she had seen before. Again, she was struck by how out of place they all seemed, as if they had been dropped on the landscape from a great height and then just left to molder there.

Ahead she could make out the distant shape of the outcrop with the temple carved into it where she had first met Atrix and Methades. The place had been strange, like no temple she had ever visited before. In many ways she was as curious about it as she was the mystery of events unfolding in the basin below.

"The Headstone," she began thoughtfully as they followed the trail.

"Yes?" Silas said

"What do you know about it?"

"Not much really. It's old. It's been here since before I was born. They all have."

Callisto frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Silas gestured to the other outcrops that dotted the horizon.

"They're all like that," he said. "Most of them just have a shrine carved into the side or something similar, but a couple of have been hollowed out to make temples. The Headstone's just the biggest one, and its the only one with that weird stone block inside."

Callisto remembered it well, that huge lump of rock seemingly left untouched when the rest of the temple had been hollowed out. It had had a strange atmosphere about it and she remembered how bitingly cold it had been to the touch.

"So it is a temple then?" she said.

"I don't really know. Looks a lot like one inside though, and Pelion and his followers certainly seem to think so." He twisted in his saddle to face her. "You met him right?"

"Older guy, red robes, kind of cooky?" Callisto said.

"That's him," Silas nodded. "Strange man. He turned up a couple of years ago, right after I came back from Delphi come to think of it. He was preaching that weird little cult of his. Said this place was his sacred ground. I've even heard him call it the graveyard of his faith, whatever that might mean."

"Just him?" Callisto said. "What about the others?"

"Oh, they're villagers. Perites and Marsus. Good young lads, but misguided. Perites used to be my assistant until Pelion started talking with him." Silas sounded disapproving.

"You don't like him?" Callisto said, an edge of sarcasm creeping into her tone. "Can't imagine why that might be."

Silas chose to ignore her tone of voice and simply answered her first question instead.

"I don't like what he represents," he said. "When he came, the fishing along the coast was bad. I'd been to Delphi to consult with the Oracle but you had put paid to that little audience."

Callisto only gave an apologetic 'what can you do' shrug of her shoulders to which Silas gave only a long suffering sigh.

"We'd already been praying and sacrificing to Poseidon for months." he continued. "It was no use though, the fishing didn't improve and then a sickness hit the village as well. I lost my wife and Dahlia lost her mother. We got desperate and tried praying to Zeus, and Hades, and any other gods we thought would listen. None of them did."

He shook his head ruefully.

"Sounds like the gods to me," Callisto said.

"What would you know about it?" Silas snapped at her.

"More than you," she shot back. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, before Silas went back to his tale.

"That was when Pelion showed up. He commiserated with us, apologised for our misfortune, then offered his help. The entire village went up and gathered around the Headstone while he went inside and prayed to that strange old god of his. He asked if two of the younger men could come inside as well, to help him with the chanting he said. Perites and Marsus volunteered. After that night they were never quite the same again. They took to following him around and eventually he pledged them into that weird religion of his. They call each other brothers and they spend their time wandering the countryside, preying at those shrines and temples. They come back to the village sometimes for supplies and such, but most of the villagers do their best to ignore them."

Callisto fought to suppress a shiver. This sounded suspiciously like the cult of Dahak to her. Not a religion known for its mercy or tolerance though, more for sticky cocoons and flying daggers.

"And did it work?" she asked.

"Did what work?" Silas replied.

"Pelion's praying. Did his god listen?"

Silas gave a dismissive gesture.

"Who knows. I'm no Oracle or priest. All I know was that within a month the disease had run its course and no one else had died, then within another month the fishing began to improve."

"Hardly a miraculous recovery," Callisto said.

"Maybe, maybe not," was all Silas had left to say on the matter.

The Headstone was looming close now and the afternoon sun was drawing toward the horizon, the lengthening shadows from the forest to the east splaying out across the hillside like a hundred grasping fingers. Callisto urged her horse forward at a brisker trot, wanting to get this over with and be away from the Headstone as soon as possible. Something about the place unnerved her.

It took them only a few more minutes to reach the Headstone. As she had seen Methades and his men do the day before last, Callisto hitched the horses to a nearby low lying bit of scrub and proceeded inside. Silas followed close behind her. Inside the main temple chamber all was silence. It was also a lot dimmer than she remembered, but then she had been here earlier in the day last time. The fading afternoon sun provided less light and the lump of misshapen stone at the far end of the temple now cast a long shadow that loomed ominously up the wall behind it.

"So," said Silas, drawing even with her, one hand resting casually on the top of the hammer at his waist, "you've dragged me out here. Care to tell me what this place has to do with Methades?"

Callisto glanced at him then wordlessly crossed the room to the incense burner she had seen Methades at the other day. Taking a deep breath and hoping nothing had changed since then, she reached down and tugged it open. Inside sat the same pouch she had seen Methades place there the day before last. She reached in and hefted the surprisingly heavy bag before turning and tossing it through the air to Silas.

"Catch," she said.

Silas caught the bag in both hands and gave a surprised grunt at the weight of it, causing him to fumble it and drop it to the ground. It spilled open with a clatter of metal on stone, disgorging a number of thick round coins onto the floor around it. Silas stood for a moment, a confused frown on his face. The coins glinted dully back at him in the dim light from outside.

"It can't be," he said simply, clearly understanding what Callisto had brought him here to see.

"I saw Methades hiding them here the other day," Callisto said as she walked back over to him. "I'm betting if you counted them, you'd find exactly two hundred dinars in that pouch."

"A fifty-fifty split," Silas said quietly.

Callisto nodded

"And more than enough to cover a bandit gang for a month. Methades has been paying Caelon to raid you, terrorise you, make you live in fear and ultimately make you need a mercenary gang. Quite a clever little scheme really."

He looked up at her.

"It can't be!" he said. "There are plenty of other reasons that could explain this."

Callisto only folded her arms and looked at him.

"Name one," she said.

"Hiding the money for safety," Silas ventured.

Callisto gave a mocking laugh.

"Safety!?" she said, and placed her hands on her hips. "Silas, if you want to keep this amount of money safe, you keep it near you. You don't hide it a two hour ride away in a place where any passer by could stumble upon it. Not to mention the fact that Pelion comes here from time to time. This place is fairly well trafficked. Even if that was the case, why only hide half? Why not hide the full amount?"

"Then why hide it here at all?" Silas shot back at her.

"A drop point," she replied. "An easy way to exchange the money without having to meet in person. Methades can't risk being seen with Caelon or the whole thing goes up in smoke."

A look of horror dawned on Silas' face as Callisto spoke.

"But that could mean..." he trailed off and turned on his heel, darting out of the temple.

Callisto frowned as he left. What had that been about? She bent and began to gather the money back into the pouch. This evidence would prove useful for proving Methades' treachery to the other villagers. She just hoped the other mercenaries were not in on the whole thing, or that at the very least not all of them were. She had the feeling that Atrix most likely was not, but as for the others, there she was less certain. The only reason she had to suspect that they might not be in on the whole thing was that Methades had waited until he was alone to hide the pouch.

She let out a long sigh of relief as she straightened, the pouch dangling from between her fingers. Her one worry this whole time had been that Caelon and his men would have already come to the temple, and that the pouch would have already been taken. The pouch still being here was also a cause for concern however. The first concern was most obviously that Silas might be right, that the reason the pouch was here was because there was no deal, and that Methades was simply not terribly clever in how he handled his money. The second was that she was right and Caelon simply had not collected it yet.

Her toughts trailed off as she realised what Silas had been thinking when he had darted from the temple a moment before. As if on cue she heard an alarmed cry from outside and the sound of footsteps on stone as Silas ran back inside.

"Callisto!" he shouted as he burst into the temple.

"Let me guess," she said. "We've got company?"

Silas only nodded.

"And it's not the friendly kind of company is it?"

Silas shook his head.

"No its not," he said.

Callisto cursed. They would have to think fast.

"Are they mounted?" she asked.

Silas nodded again.

"I think there were around twenty of them," he said, beginning to sweat nervously. "They were still at a distance though, so I couldn't get an exact count."

Callisto's mind raced. She doubted their horses could outrun Caelon's. Considering the state of the nags, she did not think that they would have had much of a chance even if Caelon and his men had been on foot! Maybe if they could get a head start though, and make it to the nearby forest, they could loose him in the trees. Twenty men on horseback would have a harder time in the woods than two. The odds would even up considerably.

"Okay," she began. "Get back outside and start unhitching the horses. As soon as you're saddled make for the forest."

She turned glancing hurriedly around the room.

"What about you?" Silas asked.

"I've got to hide this," she said, jangling the coin pouch for emphasis.

"I'm not leaving you here to face them alone," he said, hefting his hammer.

Callisto rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't plan to martyr myself so you can get away," she said. "I'm not that selfless. But we can't let Caelon get this money. It's the only proof we have that Methades and he are working together."

She reached over and gave the big blacksmith's bicep a rough shove.

"Now go! You're wasting time we don't have!"

Silas looked at her, and for the first time Callisto didn't feel uncomfortable under his gaze. Something in his look had changed. He was no longer looking at her with the same judging stare he had before. Now his eyes were filled with surprise, as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.

"Go!" she shouted at him, giving him another shove.

He nodded and sprinted for the exit, his speed surprising for a man so large.

Callisto quickly glanced around the temple interior for a suitable hiding place for the pouch when a memory struck her. She darted into the same cloister she had been hiding in the last time she had been here, her eyes searching the ceiling desperately. She smiled when she spotted what she was looking for. Carved above each arch within the cloister were a series of small alcoves, presumably for the placement of candles when the temple had still been in use. They were hidden away from the main temple floor, being on the inner side of the cloister arches, and thus would not be visible unless someone was to physically enter the cloister and look up. It was hardly the finest hiding place, but it would do for now.

She quickly scrambled up the walls, as she had done the day before last, and stashed the pouch safely in a waiting alcove, then dropped back to the floor and dashed for the exit. She had an obvious sense of deja-vu as she sprinted out into the late afternoon light. Silas was nearby, clambering into his saddle, his horse fretting fitfully at the nervous state of its rider.

Her own mount had also been unhitched and was prancing alongside him, Silas gripping its reins to keep it from wandering as he waited for her. Precisely what she'd told him not to do. To the south she could see the horses belonging to the bandits thundering up the trail. They had clearly spotted Silas and were already only minutes away.

Cursing again, she broke into a sprint for her horse, her legs eating the distance between them in seconds. She vaulted easily into the saddle, much to the consternation of the animal that apparently did not like such rough treatment. Reaching over, she ripped the reigns from Silas, shooting him an angry glance as she did so.

"I told you I wasn't just going to leave you here," he said simply. Callisto just ignored him.

"Come on," she said, turning her horse on the spot and then digging in her heels.

Silas did the same and soon the two of them were galloping across the open plain, Callisto's long blonde hair streaming behind her as the wind rushed past. She lashed her steed harder, desperately willing it to move faster. The trees and the safety they offered seemed so far away but maybe, just maybe they could make it.

Something whistled past her ear in a blur of brown. She didn't need to look to know that it had been an arrow. Caelon had mounted archers. She could almost feel the odds tilting wildly against them. Still it was too late to change the plan now. They were nearly at the treeline. Just another few moments and...

Her horse suddenly let out a pained cry, skidding wildly, and kicking up clumps of dirt and grass as it reared up on its haunches, then began to topple sideways. Callisto cried out in surprise and jumped clear, hitting the ground and rolling out from under the horse before it too came crashing down. It took her less than a moment to recover and she hurriedly sprang back to her feet, yanking the stiletto dagger free from her boot as she did so.

An arrow was sticking painfully from her horse's rear haunch. The animal was already struggling back to its feet, but there was no way she could remount the thing. She glanced back over her shoulder and felt her heart sinking. The bandits were gaining and fast, their horses' hooves pounding heavily over the open ground between them.

Silas had already ridden past her. He was now a good distance beyond and almost at the trees but he had drawn his horse up and was staring back at her, a look of worry on his face.

Callisto shook her head desperately at him. She already knew what he was thinking.

"Don't go playing the hero on me," she muttered from between gritted teeth, then waved him on.

"Don't stop!" she shouted. "Keep going! I'm not worth dying for!"

She didn't know whether he had heard her or not, but it made no difference either way. He had clearly already made his decision. He turned his horse and booted it to a gallop, coming back for her.

"No!" She shouted running toward him and waving desperately for him to make for the trees.

"Please!" she cried desperately. "Leave me! Just ride!"

The arrow took him hard through the chest.

Callisto cried out in anguish as she watched, completely powerless and unable to do anything. Silas slumped in the saddle of his horse, then like a puppet with its strings cut, he slid from the galloping animal's back to crash heavily against the ground.

"I told you!" she cried as she sprinted up to him "I told you to run!"

She dropped to her knees alongside him, hurriedly lifting his arm and swinging it over her shoulder, but it was already too late. Silas was a dead weight in her arms as she tried to lift him, his head lolling dreadfully, his chest already slick with blood.

Callisto could feel that old fire burning hotter in her gut. It flared bright then raced through her like a purging forest fire, burning up all other feelings in its path. Her pulse quickened and the blood pounded in her head, until all she could see was the image of that damnable arrow as it hit home again, and again, and again.

She let Silas' lifeless body drop back to the floor, wrenched the hammer he had been carrying from his belt and glanced back over her shoulder. The bandits were almost on her but their line was spread out. Four were very close, clearly riding the fastest horses. The others were only a half minute or so behind. More than enough time to exact some much needed vengeance.

As if guided by another hand, she flipped the dagger once as a test then pivoted on her heel, hurling it like an oversize dart. It streaked through the air, a flash of purest quicksilver and one of the mounted bandits let out a winded gasp as it took him in the heart. Like Silas, he was dead before he even hit the ground.

Callisto bounced on the balls of her feet, the adrenaline coursing through her as she readied herself. She lifted the hammer over her head.

"Come on!" she shouted, then with an ear splitting screech of purest hatred, she hurled herself at the oncoming riders.

The first rider's sword came in high, clearly aiming for a clean strike at her neck. It was easy to avoid. She ducked, spinning as she did so to build momentum with the hammer. The sword streaked harmlessly over her head and she brought the hammer around and into the back of the horse's knee as it thundered by within a hairsbreadth of her. There was a wet cracking sound and the animal let out a frantic cry of pain as it went down, crushing its rider's left leg beneath it as it went. The man bellowed in agony as the other two riders charged on past Callisto, spinning their mounts and hefting their swords as they prepared for another pass.

With a cold calm that belied the raging inferno in her belly, she strode over to the downed bandit. He struggled futilely from where he was trapped beneath his horse. Callisto never said a word. She simply lifted the hammer and brought it crashing down, stilling the man's efforts in a single sickening instant.

She turned back to face the others and flashed them a coy smile, the bloodied hammer dangling between her fingers.

"Next?" she inquired innocently.

The two riders shifted uneasily in their saddles but neither seemed overly eager to charge her again.

"How about you try us instead?" came a voice from behind her that she did not recognise.

She turned, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the further sixteen mounted bandits now at her rear.

A number of them had bows at the ready, arrows nocked and ready to fire. Again the sense of deja-vu as her mind flashed back to two days before. The question was, which of them had fired the shot that killed Silas?

There were three of the bandits who stood out the most to her, the ones that carried themselves with the largest amount of authority. One had a shaved head, bad teeth and was missing a hand. The next was a tall rangy man with muscles like banded iron and a wicked scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to beneath his ear. The third man sat his horse a little apart from the other two. He was a big burly figure with a thick beard and seemed uncomfortable around the other two.

"Bows and arrows, bows and arrows," Callisto sighed and shook her head, doing her best to put them off guard. "Whatever is a girl to do?"

The man with scar on his face looked her up and down. Unlike his two compatriots he was holding a bow.

"Die if I have anything to do with it," he said, reaching for the quiver that hung from his horse's saddle.

Callisto smiled at him darkly. He had taken the initiative in dealing with her, a clear show of strength in front of the others. That must mean he was...

"Caelon I presume," she said, baring more teeth.

The man paused, an arrow halfway out of the quiver, and fixed her with an even stare.

"And if my little birdie tells me right, you must be Callisto," he said.

She tried not to let her surprise show. She supposed it was not too difficult to guess who she was. She was, after all, fairly distinctive and in the past she had hardly been inconspicuous. Still if Caelon had guessed who she was, it meant he already knew of her and her reputation. It was time to put that to use.

"My, my," she said. "You do keep well informed, and you've discovered my big dark secret. Whatever am I to do?"

She gave him a wide eyed pleading stare that slowly morphed to become a malevolent grin.

"Maybe I'll just find your little birdie, spit it, and roast it over an open fire. Shouldn't be too hard. He goes by the name Methades I believe. I wouldn't call him a birdie though. More of a stuck up, strutting peacock."

It was Caelon's turn to look surprised now. As they spoke, a large number of the bandits had begun to dismount and were now starting to surround her. A few of them began to draw their swords threateningly.

"Careful with those things boys," she said, twitching the hammer between her fingers for added effect. "Things could get very messy."

"What do you know about Methades?" Caelon snapped, leaning forward in his saddle.

"Enough to know how much money he pays you to skulk around here like a house trained dog," Callisto sneered back at him. "Two hundred dinars am I right?"

The man with one hand stiffened in his saddle at that.

"That wouldn't be the monthly take you mentioned earlier would it?" he said, turning his gaze to Caelon as he did so.

The bandit leader suddenly looked very worried. Callisto's grin split wider. It was clear she had hit on something else with that little remark. Some other subtext she had not been aiming for. Caelon obviously was not the only force to be reckoned with in this gang.

"Oops," she said in the same tone of mock innocence that had so infuriated Xena and Gabrielle all those times. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Caelon let out a furious snarl and ripped an arrow from his quiver, nocking it in a flash and pulling the bow string taught.

"What do you know about my money!?" he demanded angrily, pointing the bow and arrow at her threateningly. Callisto didn't even flinch. She had faced down angry mobs, loutish prison guards, warrior princesses, demigods and even the god of war himself. She had a feeling she could handle these rag tag bandits.

"Your money!" the one handed man hissed in surprise, but Caelon ignored him.

"Enough to know that you pick it up from an incense burner in the temple back that way," Callisto said, answering Caelon's original question and gambling that her earlier assumption had been right.

"I also know that you'll never see a dinar of it," she added, a dash of smugness tainting her grin.

The look of dismay in Caelon's eyes was a small victory. She had been right all along. She tilted her head to one side and twisted the ends of her hair between her fingers in a girlish manner.

"Does that about sum it all up for you?" she said.

Caelon gritted his teeth until she was certain she could hear them grinding against each other.

"Tell me what you've done with my money, or I'll put this arrow through your chest the same way I did your friend over there," He snapped.

Callisto's smile disappeared in an instant.

"So it was you," she said, her tone no longer cute or child like, but instead all quiet and seething rage.

"Your money's in Tartarus," she hissed. "I'll send you to get it soon."

Caelon gave an angry cry and was about to let the arrow fly when the one handed man interjected.

"Caelon," he said with a sneer. "Kill her 'n me 'n my boys walk. We don't work for free and without her, you got no way to pay us."

"You'll get paid when we finish the village," Caelon shot back.

"Not enough," the one handed man said. "a quarter ain't worth the trouble. I want the up front you promised me and if this skinny psycho girl knows where it is then I say we get her to tell us."

Caelon glared at the other man for a while, then let out a long breath to visibly calm himself. As he did so, his arm relaxed and he lowered the bow to point at the ground.

"Bring her," he nodded to the men surrounding Callisto.

Four of them jumped her at once, driving her to the ground before she could get the hammer up to strike back. She thrashed and spat violently at them as they tried to hold her still. A heavy weight pressed down on her as she felt one of the men thrust his knee into the small of her back, holding her down as the others tried in vain to grasp at her arms and legs. She managed to scissor the legs out from under one of them and sank her teeth into another when his hand came too close to her mouth. She pulled her mouth free and spat a great wad of her attacker's blood onto the grass.

"Crazy little minx ain't she." She heard the one handed man say. "Just hit her in the head with a rock or something. She doesn't need to be in top shape. Just well enough to answer questions."

He sounded for all the world like he was describing the best way to get a pig to the abattoir.

The last thing Callisto managed to focus on was Silas' body, lying still in the grass some distance away. He was on his back, his face turned up to the open sky, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper, before the pommel of a sword came crashing down on the back of her head and reduced everything to darkness.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies to all reading this story for the late update. I originally had envisaged chapters 8 and 9 as one chapter, but I had a bit of struggle deciding in what order to present it and then what I had originally planned to be a fairly quick reveal of the truth of what's been going on turned into something a bit more substantial. In the end the chapter started to run so long I made the decision as I was finishing it up to cut it in two and edit it a little so that it would flow better as two separate chapters.

The end of chapter 9 was a lot of fun to write. Callisto's been fairly tamped down for the last couple of chapters, being a bit introspective, and trying to figure just where she's been dumped and what it is she's supposed to be doing, so it was fun to get her into a bit more of a 'blood and thunder' mode for the end of the chapter, even if only for a little while. There's a fair bit more of it coming though so I'm looking forward to getting stuck in to the rest of the story.

Hope those of you reading are continuing to enjoy and I will hopefully be back soon with another update.