Kensei By Honor Blaze

Disclaimers - I do not own any of the characters from XWP and HTLJ, even though I do wonder who they belong to now, as the shows are no longer in production, go figure. However, the character of Kalasin is mine. You can try and sue me if you want, but she is a fictional creation, and no one else owns her.

The Warning Label - There is violence in this fic, and there is romance too, of the heterosexual kind, so if that is not good for you in any way shape of form, just hit the back button, or read this anyway! The violence isn't too bad, it is not overly descriptive. Language comes and goes, about the level of a nice 'Sex and the City' episode, so not too bad at all.

Dedications - Kari, you legend! My gosh, you made me want to write again! You are a great person, no matter what anyone says. Also, for the ever- wonderful Summer, who has given me that much creativity over the past few months that it is simply devastating! Always for you Sarah. And anyone else that has come along for the ride. Life's a roller coaster, and I am honored to be riding it with you people.

Authors Notes - Well, this is the first thing I have written for so long, unless you would like to count all of the work I do posting at the Shatomlic Amazons. So do not expect a work of literary art.

Feedback - Hell yes! You can email me on jugoshin_kim@hotmail.com

Rating - PG13

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Arabia. It was a land of desert, and a land of thieves. Every day, you would hear of men slaughtering one another. There were too many desert bands to count, and so many were filled with idiots. As everyone knew, idiots with swords were the worst kind, as they didn't weigh up everything before attacking.

The wind blew softly, enough for the sand to blow lightly at the feet of the people that walked through the village streets.

How Hercules and Iolaus had ended up in Arabia was beyond them. They had so often tried to avoid it. The Arabs had their own way of doing things, and did not need the Son of Zeus coming into their territory and trying to change the way that things were. For some reason, beyond anything that Hercules could contemplate, Iolaus had decided that the barbaric land would be perfect for their next adventure.

So there they were, sitting in a tavern, looking at passersby. The tavern itself was inappropriately named 'Golden Luck'. Upon looking at the establishment, one would instantly think that perhaps the owners 'golden luck' had run remarkably short. The place was a mess, filled with drunks, and barely standing on it's shaky foundations.

However, it was the only tavern in the village, and the two heroes had to admit that they were in desperate need of some food and drink.

"There has to be a reason that we are here."

Hercules, the larger of the two men, was speaking. His deep voice echoed through the near-silent tavern. As he spoke, his long dark blonde hair fell across his face. Irritated slightly, he pushed it back behind his ear, seriously thinking of one day cutting it. He looked at his companion, his green/blue eyes betraying the curiosity that he was trying to hide.

"Really Herc, when are you going to believe me!?"

He was shorter than his friend by a head and shoulders. His name was Iolaus, and he had been Hercules' best friend for as long as he could recall. After Hercules' wife had died, he had persuaded the legendary man to travel the earth with him. His tousled light blonde hair bounced slightly as he moved his hands into the air in protest.

Hercules grinned, chuckling under his breath. He took another sip from the wooden mug of ale. He found himself listening to the music in the background, trying to figure out exactly what the people of the village could possibly gain from listening to that rubbish.

Finally, after his curiosity became insatiable, he decided to turn and see what was going on behind him.

There were not many people there, only about five. Four of them were men, and there was one woman. Each of the men were holding an instrument, and trying their hardest to play it. The woman was standing in front of them, tapping her foot impatiently. She was beyond beautiful, and Hercules found himself wondering why he had not turned around earlier. There was no way that she was an Arab, though they had nice women, this one was exquisite.

"What you looking at buddy?"

Hercules turned back quickly, trying to hide what he had been doing. "I thought that I heard something going on outside." He quickly lied, hoping that Iolaus wouldn't pick up on it.

His best friend looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found the woman. Just watching his facial expression, Hercules could tell exactly when his eyes found her.

Iolaus temporarily averted his eyes and looked at Hercules. "Did you see her?" he asked.

"See who?" Hercules replied, pretending his best that the thought had never crossed his mind.

Iolaus looked at him like he had grown another head, "That woman over there! She is. amazing!"

Hercules decided that he would turn again, it gave him another chance to look at the young woman, who he thought was a remarkable specimen of the female race. She was tall and her figure was perfection. Her skin was slightly pale and looked soft to the touch. Her emerald eyes looked up briefly from the men that she was focusing on. As soon as her eyes met his, her head tilted slightly to the side, and her eyes widened. Anyone would have melted at the innocent look that she projected.

As small smile broke out on her lips, and she turned back to the men that she was trying to teach. As soon as she turned back to them, her tantalizing grin turned back into a merciless scowl, and she started making comments in what Hercules could only assume was Arabic. Instantly, his hopes were dashed. He couldn't understand a word that she said, and his accent was unrecognizable.

He turned back to his best friend, who was still staring at her.

"You're never going to get her," Hercules started, waving a hand in front of Iolaus' eyes, "She doesn't even speak the same language as us."

Iolaus shrugged and brought his eyes back to the demi god. "She still makes for wonderful eye candy." He said, determined not to let Hercules get in the way of his good time.

After a moment's more of practice, the men all seemingly gave up and walked out of the tavern, muttering to themselves. The young woman sighed and pushed her long, slightly wavy hair back from her face.

Without warning, she looked up to Hercules and Iolaus. A smile broke out on her face again, and she walked over to them, swaying her hips gently, making sure to look as perfect as she possibly could. It was almost as though she knew exactly what sort of an effect she would have on all of them.

She sat down next to Hercules, putting a hand on his thigh. The demi god could have sworn that the temperature in the room had risen significantly, because all of a sudden, he felt the need to get out of there.

Then, in fractured Greek, she started to speak. "You are hero?" she said to both of them. Her voice was velvety and smooth, incredibly rich too, Hercules could have sworn that he felt himself melt on the spot.

"Well, it depends. We do good things to help people." Iolaus said quickly, wanting to get some of her attention.

"Latin you speak?"

Hercules frowned. He spoke the language of the Roman's but what an Arabic woman had to do with them, he would kill to know.

Then it hit him.

She was a Roman. It was obvious in her looks. How he hadn't seen it before was beyond him. The young woman had that aura of confidence about her, a trait of many Romans that he had met in the past. She was not any different to any of them, and he cursed himself for having not seen it earlier.

He switched to Latin instantly, "Yes, I do speak it." he informed her, hoping that he was speaking the language correctly.

"Good." The young woman said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I simply couldn't stand speaking a foreign language for another minute!"

Hercules and Iolaus both looked at her in confusion, not quite knowing what she was getting at. However, they nodded, pretending that they understood her. She was speaking rapidly, and in a dialect that neither of them understood. After a moment, the beautiful woman stopped and looked them over.

"You didn't understand a word of what I just said did you?" her deep green eyes probing Hercules'. She had switched back to basic Latin now, and was speaking it slightly slower, giving the sounds a slight Greek accent to help him understand it all better.

Iolaus looked the spectacular woman over. She had managed to make a simple dress look stunning. Even the red linen, which would normally looks horrid on anyone, seemed to suit her.

"What's your name?" the blonde hunter asked.

She turned to face him, looking like a woman that had just been told that her dress wasn't on straight. "My name is Kalasin." She said coldly before turning back to Hercules. "I am from Rome, as you may have guessed. And I need some help."