Breaking up camp for a long march was a noisy long affair. There were pots to be washed then strung onto the horses, clinking and clanking like bells as they bumped one another. For the lucky men who had them, the bedrolls needed to be shaken, washed, dried, and then rolled up again. Every empty flask was filled with clean water and provisions were rationed. There were scouters to choose - the young and fast, to look ahead for ambushes or trouble. A few horses needed re-shoeing and some of the men needed to be ministered to.

Xena worried about none of it. She had started delegating to a select few men she trusted from her village and now there was a whole system in place. Everyone had their own tasks to complete and together they made the breakdown of the camp smooth and seamless.

"Looks like we'll get an early start," Petracles said from besides her.

"Just because I've agreed to your plan doesn't mean I've forgiven you," Xena replied, marching away without waiting for an answer. Petracles followed after her.

"How can I make it up to you, Xena?"

Xena walked between two men shoving clothing into oversized sacks.

"Hail, Xena!" they said, grinning up at her.

"You can die so I can have your army," Xena said.

Petracles paused, stunned. The two men glared up at him, then pulled on the blanket he was standing on until he moved off it. The dirty cloth went into the sack. Petracles ran to catch up with Xena, keeping pace behind her until she finally turned around. Her blue eyes were narrowed and cold.

"Xena, I'm sorry. What was I supposed to do? If I'd told you the truth you would have killed me," he said.

"I still might kill you," Xena replied, tearing her arm away. She whistled shrilly and the camp stilled and quieted. She hopped up onto a large rock and all eyes turned to her. "Petracles' army is waiting on the other side of Strymon Pass for us to join them. Together there's no army that can stand in our way. We can bring peace to Thrace. This is an alliance between… friends. I don't want any fighting. If there's a problem, solve it. If you can't solve it, come to me. You won't like the way I solve it. So if there's problem, solve it. We leave in ten minutes."

Petracles reached up and grabbed Xena's waist. He carefully brought her to the ground. She stood very close to him and his arms were still around her.

"Marry me, Xena."

She stiffened in his arms and moved away. Two of her men were grinning and nudging one another instead of packing up, waiting to see what she would say.

Petracles leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "It's the ultimate way to unify our forces. No question of loyalties. You know I'm right. I've been carrying these marriage bracelets with me hoping you would say yes."

"I'm not sure what to say," Xena replied.

"Xena, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known. Will you vow to stay with me, fight by my side, and be my wife?"

His fingers brushed her hair out of her eyes and he smiled down at her gently.

"Please?"

"Yes," Xena finally said. She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and flashed him a wide smile. "Yes."