Leo.

Milo the Scorpion had a headache. It had taken human form and was called Skippy.

He did not object to her being a woman. He liked women when they were soft and compliant. She was not. And she was pregnant, which he thought was obscene.

"Why must they flaunt their bellies so? They should be locked up with their bloated bodies for full nine months 'till their brats are born."

And she was ugly.

The Scorpio Saint prided himself on being a pure, blond and blue-eyed descendant of Alexander the Great. Bad enough that Sanctuary had had to put up with foreigners from all over Europe and beyond, bad enough that it had been infested of late by those yellow monkeys from Japan, bad enough that they were led by that useless old fart of a Chinaman, Dokho (Another yellow monkey! So he had the gift of Misopethamenos? It might have permitted him to age slowly, preserving him from becoming the wrinkled gnome everyone thought he was, it had not preserved his mind from going two-hundred and something. Over-cautious, that's what he was, a draft could make him believe a storm was coming, anyway, anyone who had spend two-hundred years on a rock must be rusted, right? Right!) But That Woman!

Flat nosed and broad-mouthed, her ridiculously thin, spindly legs sticking out from under that mound of a belly in maternity dress, she had stood, hands on hips, facing Athena and scolding the Goddess like one would a naughty child.

He had not understood a word of it of course (Greek was the only language worth speaking, it just went to show how degenerate his race had become, the way they spoke the noble tongue these days, and nobody would ever catch him defiling is mouth that ugly foreign gobbledy-gook.) but the way she spoke and Athena's reaction to it was eloquent enough. Shaka had wanted to execute the woman for it there and then (for once he had agreed with Virgo! A pity he hadn't.) and Deathmask was already hopping with glee at the thought, yet the Goddess objected to killing mere mortals.

Of course theirs had been but a token gathering. Sanctuary was hardly united nowadays. Shaka, for all his meditation, still had some human emotions left in him, and the chief of these was extreme envy of Dokho's appointment as pope. Had he, Virgo, not been the one to remind Athena of the Arayashiki? Had he not made the Ultimate Sacrifice in order to obtain the Eight' Sense and thus enter Hades' realm? The Virgo Saint never let his true feelings show, but Milo could see through that quiet composure, see the burning resentment below. It almost made Shaka sympathetic to his eyes. Almost. He had something to say about the Virgo Saint. as well, and it was not nice either. Arrogant bastard. Thought himself a cut above the rest. Badly needed to be cut down to size. Still, he had chosen to follow Shaka rather than Dokho.

Aleksej had been very angry when the Goddess had ordered him to hand over the prisoners to Aquarius.

"They are hostages! The Renegade will surely come for them!"

"Be that as it may, I would rather have them where they will remain unmolested."

Aleksej's eyes had narrowed at that.

"You still need me, Goddess."

" Do I deny it, Lord of Blue Graad?"

Damn the man! That was what had made him side with Shaka, ultimately. Athena should never have allowed those Russki's into Sanctuary, and now she stood powerless and could not evict them. Or rather she lacked the will.

Shake had it, though. Along with Aquarius and the Gemini, they would have settled the Ice Warriors once and for all, along with Pisces and Capricorn and Cancer. Mind you, he was beginning to doubt Kanon. At the beginning of the war against Hades, he had been wary of Saga's evil twin; but the man had undergone the Antares willingly, attempting to strike back, and that had convinced Milo of his good intentions. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. The way Sanctuary was falling apart proved that every Gold Saint had his own hidden agenda, and that their unity facing the Wall of Lamentation was purely temporary thing, because at that moment heir agendas had coincided.

Although Cancer and Pisces favoured Aleksej (at least they had never spoken against his presence), Capricorn alone had openly backed the hostage-taking deal. Deathmask had slithered off to some dark business of his own, and Aphrodite had merely sniffed delicately at a white rose in his hand and not said a thing, not even when the Ice Saint appealed to him for support. And so Shaka had taken charge of the two women, and had handed them over to Camu. During the night Aleksej had attempted to retrieve 'his' prisoners, and got his nose bloodied by the Aquarius Saint. Camu's Temple however had been severely damaged in the process, and Virgo had decided to have the women transferred to Scorpio.

Milo felt certain that Shaka had done that only to pester him.

"Just you wait, I'll get even. With you and with Aquila and Draco, insolent pups, swaggering about as if they owned the place because Athena favours them. I was here first. I am Sanctuary born! Yellow monkeys the pair of them."

Shortly afterwards Aleksej had tried again. Three Blue Graad Warriors paid for it with their lives. They had died slowly and in a lot of pain. It had given him some satisfaction, but his bad mood soon had returned. He even felt disgruntled with Camu, the only Gold Saint he got along with, and the only one he actually respected and, yes, liked. Blasted Frenchie, he could have warned about the damn woman's nagging.

He halted in his tracks. Really, if he kept on stamping about in circles like this he'd be leaving furrows in the marble floor of his Temple's cella before long. He was a Gold Saint, damn it! True, he was the youngest of them all, and his temper often got the better of him, but this attitude was unworthy. He should not let a mere mortal wind him up so much.

"That's it, the women have to go. At any rate the black one. What if she drops her child right here and now? Let that softy Aiolia take care of her, he's the healer of the gang after all. Or Mu…"

No, not Mu. He could dump the women on Leo, no questions asked, but the Aries Saint would have something ironic to say. Dirty half-breed. Now there was another one he would love taking down a peg or two. Three. But not today!

"Aiolia? Come here, will you? It is urgent!"

He sent the thought to the fifth Temple.

Maybe I should notify Shaka as well… oh, what the hell, what difference does it make where the hostages are kept? Besides, I have the excuse of not knowing how to deal with a pregnant chick, that's it, if he calls me on his I'll tell him that. Problem solved."

Then another thought struck him. If Ailolia took on the black one, he'd be left with the other, the blonde with the bulging eyes that stared into nothingness. She creeped him out.

"I will be alone with her!"

"Scorpio? Milo? Why did you call for me? What is it?"

Damned! He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that his fellow Saint had taken him by surprise! He really needed to get rid of them both.

"Ah. Leo. The prisoners. You may take charge of them."

In the Leo Temple, Aiolia frowned. The whole prisoner-hostage-taking business went very much against his grain. In the Council of Saints, after Aleksej, triumphant, had brought them forth, he had vigorously protested against it. Each Saint had had his own unique reactions, each according to his temperament.

Mu had raised a delicate eyebrow and had said: " Hostages? There's a novel idea!"

Taurus had grunted: "It is not honourable."

"Nor is it, but they are here and we have to make the best of a bad situation." Saga had replied, and Kanon had added shrewdly: " Besides, they are friendly with the Renegade, and can tell us of his plans. Cancer had offered to interrogate them, and then he, Leo had exploded: "Hostages! Interrogations! Is this what we have come to?" At which Virgo had told him to sit down and be calm, excitement led nowhere. "Obviously the prisoners (Shaka had stressed the word) cannot be released as long as association with the Renegade has not been duly investigated."

"All right, let's read their minds, wipe them and be done with it." had said Scorpio. However, Deathmask's proposal was rejected, and the Cancer Saint had left the council in a sulk.

Capricornus had been all for using the women as bait to lure the Renegade to Sanctuary. Camus had suggested to put them on ice. Aphrodite had not even pretended an interest.

As Pope, Dokho had had the final word, although Aiolia strongly suspected that here had been a battle of wills going on over their heads between Virgo and the former Libra. The Leo Saint was not sure whether Dokho had actually agreed with Shaka, or whether he had been forced to do so. The two hundred-year-old youth had been very indecisive, and had looked almost absent-minded throughout the discussion, which was nothing new of late. And so the women had been handed over to Aquarius, who was Shaka's man, not Dokho's. Athena's contribution had been to insist that the two would not be harmed or tampered with in any way.

"Why, Scorpio? You know how I feel about it."

Milo grimaced. Leo might feel differently after he had spent some time with that Skippy.

"It's a matter of…health. Athena did express concern for their welfare, and one of them is pregnant after all. Oh, and Leo…"

"Yes?"

"I'll teleport them down to you. No need for you to come up and disturb Shaka."

"He is getting rid of the women and Virgo knows nothing about it!" thought Aiolia privately, Is that a good or a bad thing? It will certainly be better for those poor women. To be in the company of Camu amounts to much the same as being put on ice by him, and underneath those boyish good looks and charm of Milo's there is a nasty streak I'm not happy with either."

Still, he was relieved he did not have to go to the Scorpio Temple. He had never liked the place: it reminded him entirely too much of Cancer's. Small wonder. Both were the signs of deceit, of backstabbing, of death in slow and painful ways. He was glad to be Leo, and honest sign, the lion that fought straightforwardly, giving his opponent equal chances. Come to think of it, the number of Gold Saints who were as he was dismally low. Pisces was just as treacherous as Cancer and Scorpio, although that was Aphrodite's nature, not his sign's. Similarly, another man than Shaka would have a less cruel attack than all that sending to hell stuff and the obliteration of the senses the Virgo Saint favoured. The Gemini were fairly benign by contrast: banishment rather than death. Both Mu and Aldebaran were defensive rather than offensive which made them, perhaps, the best of Saints. He fervently hoped that Mu would become the new Libra, although Shiryu had an eye on the job as well. A bit of a comedown that would be, since the Dragon Saint was half-god and above Gold now. However, the young Japanese seemed to have personal problems he was interiorising. At any rate he was hard on himself, and hard on the new recruits. Fortunately most had been send to various training camps around the world. He understood Shiryu, though. Had he not been like that himself, totally dedicated to his duty, to compensate for his problems? Perhaps he should speak with the young Saint, offer help. Yes, he would. Later. This affair had to be resolved first. The latest news was that a group of people, including Hyo – no, the Renegade, had passed Taurus, who had abandoned his post (quite understandably so), to deal with Aleksej wreaking havoc in Rodorio. And Mu had totally disappeared. If the Gemini could not stop the intruders – which he doubted- Cancer would.

"They had better succumb to either Kanon or Saga, than face Deathmask…no, no, I should not feel sorry for them. Whoever defiles this hallowed ground deserves to die…"

No.

He ran out of his Temple, up to Virgo, where Shaka sat deep in meditation, up, past empty Libra, and into Scorpio.

"I told you not to come! What did Shaka say?" Milo shouted angrily.

"Not a thing, he is in trance. I want to see them."

"Oh, very well, they are over there."

In a corner of the Temple the two women sat, the dark one on her haunches, the blonde with her arms around her legs.

"Goddess, she looks like she is about to give birth! Now I understand why Milo lands them on me. Typical. How many children of his are crawling about Rodorio that he doesn't care a fig about?"

The black woman looked up, her eyes shooting resentment.

"Watch out, Vimi, here comes another one of those clowns."

Unlike Milo, Aiolia did have a little English. He could not blame the woman for her anger, even if her words were less than respectful.

The blonde made no answer. It was as if she hadn't heard.

A shiver ran down Aiolia's spine. He sensed a lack of feeling in her, greater than Camu's. A black home of despair. Was he the cause of it? He and the other Saints? Had she given up?

For the first time in his life he the Leo Saint began to wonder about ordinary people.

"Who are they anyway? What induced them to help the Renegade? Two plain mortal women. One cannot lay the blame on them. He must have warped their minds somehow. But Cygnus never worked with mind-control: that was Phoenix's speciality. That's it, they must have worked in concert, before Ikki was found out…"

"Are you moving or staying?" called Milo," Make up your mind! Get to your own Temple, man! Can't you sense it? The intruders have passed the Gemini!"

"That is impossible!" cried the Leo Saint, and with a flash he teleported.

"Hey, you forgot your baggage! Oh, what the hell, I'll dump them in his Temple."

Teleportation was not Milo's strong suit, and he would rather die than admit that he was only marginally better at it than Aldebaran. Teleporting people over short distances within Sanctuary he could manage without batting an eye though.

Leo was not amused when he saw the two appear out of nowhere in the middle of his Temple.

The black woman screamed. The blonde, again, had no reaction whatsoever.

"Right, that's it, I've had it with being zoomed about like Kirk and Spock! Now look here, Scotty…aaargh!"

The woman had jumped up from her crouched position, and suddenly doubled up in pain. Aiolia caught her in time as she lost her balance.

"Oh no, not here, not now, not like this!" she cried, hugging her belly.

Once more her body was racked with pain, and once more she screamed.

With his healer's touch, Aiolia knew what was happening. Her waters had broken, she was having contractions, her baby would come now, here, like this, as she feared.

"Vimi!" she called out to her companion, "Vimi, help me, I'm having my baby!"

The blonde shifted a little, but remained seated and staring ahead, as if nothing mattered to her; and perhaps it did not.

"Viminalis! Curse you, snap out of it! Now is not the time to give yourself over to depression! Aaah…that was at least a minute apart…Vimi! Help me!"

The blonde woman blinked. Once. Her grey eyes were expressionless.

"Oh…Oh? Yes."

"Thank you, Vimi, you are a big help."

The dark woman began to breathe heavily. Aiolia felt an almost uncontrollable urge to laugh. The situation was simply ridiculous. Sanctuary had declared war on the Renegade who was coming closer by the minute, he would have to do battle soon, and here he was, he, the Leo Saint, saddled up with a woman in labour, and a …what? A madwoman?

This 'Vimi' person was not right in her mind, he could sense that. She was despairing. Not of her present situation, not that…this was something far older than that, something that had begun long ago; despair, yes, and pain, and darkness, a sense of being lost and never being able to find the way.

An unfamiliar feeling for a Saint filled him: pity.

Yet she was not the emergency: it was the black woman who needed his immediate help.

"I don't know what to do! This is not a wound I can heal. It is not a disease. She is having a baby, woman have been doing it since mankind began, what need has she of help, surely she knows how to cope? Maybe I should call another woman. Athena… Athena knows nothing of childbirth. Rodorio? Plenty of experienced women there, but the village is under attack! Perhaps the Blue Graad girl, Nastassia? Oh, my Goddess, surely she is not having that baby in the middle of the floor?"

It looked like she was. At any rate she had removed her wet and bloodied slip, and was back on her haunches, groaning, sighing, panting like a beast.

She was incapable of walking, that much was clear; he would have to carry her to Athena's Temple, where Nastassia was.

"This is so embarrassing. Here I am, probably the strongest of all Gold Saints, forced to play midwife…thanks a lot, Milo."

What was he supposed to do? Stick his hand in? He shuddered at the very thought. He removed his long, flowing white mantle and draped it over the woman's shoulders.

"What must I do?"

"Her answer was a laugh that ended in a long groan.

"What can you do? This baby was supposed to be due on the sixth of January: an Epiphany child, not a Boxing Day one. It is going to be born despite of you, and I will not have any of you creeps touch it…or me!"

"You cannot do it on your own."

"Thousand of years worth of Aboriginal women have been doing it under gum trees and behind clumps of spinnifex grass, a Dorian Temple will be a luxurious first; just watch me do it alone! Ooooh! "

All of a sudden the woman called Vimi started to giggle. The giggle turned into a cackle and from there passed to outright laughter that was as mad as Cancer's.

"Stop it! Be quiet!"

She kept on laughing.

"Stop it!!"

"She won't listen. She may not even hear you. Vimi is a manic-depressive. Usually she doesn't switch from one state to the other quiet so fast, but who knows…ooooh…what that zapping us about has done to her metabolism? Aaaaah….she may even be happy. After all, she's harboured a deathwish for about a decade, she is getting what she wants now, isn't she…oooooh! ISN'T SHE? "

The last words the black woman screamed at him, " YOU are going to kill us! Vimi, me, my baby…my baby! Aaaah, my baby!"

Aiolia was close to a deathwish himself. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He was a warrior, his purpose, his duty was to kill, swiftly and mercilessly, anyone who violated Sanctuary. That was to say, anyone designated as a legitimate target by Sanctuary.

The false pope, Saga had called for Milo and himself to kill the rebel Saints, and Scorpio had protested, not because he felt it morally wrong, but because killing Bronzes was beneath a Gold. He, Aiolia, Gold Leo, had volunteered for the job. What did that make him? After he had left, Milo had told him later, the pope had said, calculatingly, that if Leo killed Pegasus, it would prove his loyalty; if, on the contrary, Seiya would vanquish him, then a potential traitor would be removed. "At that point," Milo had said, "I began to wonder at our leader. In the secrecy of my mind, I questioned his worth. It was that nagging doubt that made me fail against Hyoga's utter conviction."

And the strange thing was that the Bronzes had not fought for Athena. They had not even liked her back then. They had fought because it was the right thing to do. If she had been an impostor, if they had known that, they would have done exactly the same.

Taking hostages was wrong. Keeping people prisoner was wrong. Killing them was wrong.

Then what was the right thing to do?

He was a healer. Even as a child, before he had so much as developed a sixth sense, let alone a seventh, he had been sensitive to other people's hurts, physical or emotional. Perhaps because had been hurt so much himself he wanted to make them better, and one day he had found out that he could. It had astonished him, for it was totally against the nature of the lion that was his sign: a fierce, feline predator that knows no mercy for his prey. Healing was more suited to Mu, the gentle Aries. He had questioned his fellow Saint about it once.

"Why should you not have the nature of a healer, Aiolia? You are not Leo, any more than I am Aries. We merely wear the Cloth. We have our own personalities. Look at Milo: whatever else he is, he hasn't a treacherous bone in his body, for all that he is the wearer of Scorpio! Now, don't growl at me, I know you don't like him. You have to admit though that as Saints go, he is one of the better ones. He hasn't had all humanity stamped out of him, not like some I could mention, nor have you. You are one of the best! Despite the hard time you've been given in the years after your brother 's 'defection'; you kept the warmth in your heart. You are a generous, sensitive and caring person, Aiolia, and that has nothing to do with your Sainthood!"

He had been rather embarrassed by Mu's praise. The words had been spoken with such quiet sincerity, and that was not the Mu he knew at all. The Aries Saint's personality was difficult to grasp. He could be both gentle and hard as nails. During the Poseidon episode he had revealed himself a totally dedicated and obedient Saint, ready to execute Dokho's orders to the letter. Yet a few days later he had opposed the will of Sion, his own Master! And fourteen years previously, he had helped Aioros escape. He had witnessed the fight between the false pope and the Sagittarius Saint, and he had crept out of hiding to heal Aioros as best as he could after that one had been cast from the Hall of the Pope down into a deep crevasse by Saga's blast. His efforts had prolonged Aioros's life long enough for the dying Saint to drag himself, baby Athena and his Cloth box out of Sanctuary's reach. Mu too had fled, to Jamir, where he had established himself as a healer of Cloths. That ability saved him from Saga's wrath. Had Mu been aware of the deception? Probably not, or he would have done everything to avenge Sion. It must have been hard for Mu, all those years of doubt, torn between knowing that the traitor he had seen trying to kill Athena was his own Master, and yet knowing that Sion was a true and loyal servant of the Goddess. What a relief, the realisation at last that his master was innocent of the crime, and that he had seen Saga in guise of the Pope!

How old had Mu been at he time? A child, surely, they had all been children then, Gold Saints by default: only Aioros, Aphrodite, Saga, Shura, Shaka and Deathmask had properly speaking fully gained their Cloths, and Cancer and Virgo had been the youngest of the lot.

He himself and the others had been nominally Gold Saints, but effectively still trainees.

Leo and Taurus there had been long-standing vacancies, the previous occupants of the positions having died in office almost a century before, and none had been found worthy of vying for the Gold Cloths in all that time. The previous Scorpio had been executed on Sion's orders for his excesses (Leaving a trail of corpses. The man had been Master to Milo, Aphrodite and Deathmask, and it was obvious the latter two had learned their lessons well; and yet Deathmask had not challenged his Master, always the way of promotion in Sanctuary, but the Cancer Saint, and against all odds, had won. Aiolia wondered at that now.) Camu's teacher had fallen in a cleft in a glacier, impaling himself on an icy stalagmite in the process, while trying to preserve his young pupil from that very fate. Shaka had simply taken over when his master had died of old age - a thing unheard in the whole history of Sainthood, though Milo had unkindly suggested that he had simply meditated himself to death. The Pisces Saint before Aphrodite had been the first woman in Sanctuary, something she had managed to keep secret from all but her lover Capricornus. When she had fallen pregnant, they had fled. Fully aware that opting out was punishable by death. They had found refuge in the north, in Sweden, Capricorn's home country, for a couple of years. Then Sanctuary's own brand of implacable justice had caught up with them. Yet their child was raised in Sanctuary, and given the chance to atone for his parent's misdeeds: Aphrodite.

Shura had become Capricornus after he had fought bravely against insurrectionist Ice Saints. Once their rebellious leader dead at the hand of the young trainee, the remaining Warriors went into exile beyond the Polar Circle, led by a wise and kindly Russian called Piotr.

Being a twin Saga had been destined for the Gemini Cloth, though no one except Sion knew of the existence of Kanon. After the death of their respective Masters (the Gemini's demise was another one of Sanctuary's little mysteries it was best not to ponder on) Saga had taken over the further training of Milo, Aphrodite and Camu, while Aioros had taken Aiolia and Aldebaran under his wings. Like most Saints his brother had gained his Cloth by defeating his Master in mortal combat.

Perhaps that was what Mu had meant by having had one's humanity stamped out of one. It all depended on the Master. Saga had been evil inside, and Aioros had not, and that had reflected on their pupils. Milo's ruthlessness and Camu's cold had their origins in Saga.

"And history repeats itself, a new generation of Saints is forming from orphans collected by Julian Solo, and trained by the surviving Silvers and Bronzes, as well as the Marina general Sorrent and Thetys the Mermaid. It is necessary."

He, Aiolia, could heal broken bodies, but what of broken minds? For broken they would be: warped and twisted and wrecked.

"Goddess, where do these thoughts come from? This is not me. This is rebellious behaviour. I must trust in Athena. These seeds of doubt must be rooted out."

He sounded like Shaka. Was this what he wanted to become?

"It is not what I want. It is what I must do. My duty as a Saint is all that matters. It is the sacrifice we must make for Peace and Justice on Earth. For Athena is all that stands between the world and the Gods that seek to dominate it."

He reached out with his hand, his healing hand, for Vimi.

To take her life would be a kindness, Shaka would say. If she had been suffering from depression for ten years then she was not likely to recover, ever. He could ease her way into the death she desired.

As he touched her, he touched her spirit.

No Saintly attack had ever hurt him so badly. Physical pain was nothing compared to this horror of psychological anguish.

And then, like a switch from night to day, the elation, the euphoria, the mania. He had been nothing, worth nothing, and now he was everything. Impossible no longer existed. Why not jump over the moon? He could. Of course he could. Why not? He could pluck the stars and juggle with the sun. Why not? The future was his for the taking, the future…no future, there was none for him, he was back in the deepest darkest depths of depression a quagmire that sucked him further and further in…

No! He was a Saint! Nothing could bring him down, he was invincible!

And that, again, was the mania speaking. Goddess! The woman had a power to frighten the Saints themselves. To touch her mind was to trigger one's own mental destruction. She had to be eliminated.

His soul bleeding from the contact, almost ripped out but still there, he was still in control, that generous, sensitive caring soul…he would kill her.

Somewhere, a baby cried.

To be continued.

Author's note:

This chapter was written a month or so ago with Mikis Theodorakis still fresh in mind: the Greek composer who declared that Jews are the root of evil and that their society had produced nothing better than Abraham and Jakob whereas 'we Greeks had the great Pericles'. I wanted one of the Goldies to reflect the 'Greece is the navel of the world and only we (and, oh, very well, the other white Europeans) are entitled to the sacred Cloths' attitude we see in Cassios and others. Of the three Greek candidates, Saga has already plenty of problems and Aiolia is not like that at all, so the lot fell on Milo. Impulsive, gung-ho, very much a black-and-white thinker (unavoidable with his kind of upbringing), he obviously is very intelligent and lacks intellectual challenge, therefore he harbours a lot of resentment. All in all a very likeable young man. Keep in mind that he IS so very young, barely out of adolescence. Where he sees a wrong, he is ready to start a crusade, without much reflection. He stands not alone in that: Hyoga/Ilya, Ikki, Miho, Seika etc. all are like that, one has every hope they will grow out of it. Only Shun and Mu seem to be mature enough to think 'grey'.

"