Half a Candlemark later- Outside the Jail
The jail was a small building built of thick stone blocks. There wasn't a distinguishing mark on it, but the people who passed treated it with wary respect. From inside, she could hear the chilling screams of one of it's occupants. No expense had been spared when building it, but that didn't't surprise Xena. Persis had been a rich man when he still drew breath. He'd hurt her deeply, and in a lasting way. She'd caught him plotting to kill her and destroy the towns she was protecting. The town whose jail she stood facing was one of the, even though no-one who lived there knew she watched over it. She had visited the town as a child, with her uncle and had fallen in love with it.
When she'd goaded him into a duel with her, she knew that there was a good chance she could lose. He was a better fighter than she was. She beat him fair and square though. The fight had been a difficult one for her, it terms of physical effort and mental pain. She hadn't planned to kill him, but it had happened. His was the first death at her hands that she felt remorse for.
Her attention snapped back to the present as the judge spoke to her. She quietly cursed herself for letting her focus slip.
"This, Princess, is your new home." His tone was condemning and sarcastic. "I do hope you enjoy your stay." He spat on the ground at her feet and walked away.
She watched as the same guards that had been tasked with watching her came across the sparse grass that was laid in front of the jailhouse like a thread-bare rug. They both wore matching smiles, and inwardly she shuddered. The thought of what was coming made her feel sick. It wasn't exactly fear, more dread. Her own dark past had been punctuated with beatings and torture. Crucifixion seemed to be most people's favourite method of trying to kill her.
This time, she guessed that it would be a good old-fashioned beating. Normally, given the chance, she would distance herself from the scene. This time, she feared she wouldn't be able too. She wasn't the impermeable, untouchable stone angel that people imagined her to be. She bled just like they did, and could die just as easily. People needed to paint her as above them, as a sort of demi-god so that they could sleep easily at night. If she was just a mere mortal, they could just as easily fall into dark ways.
It was okay with her, most of the time. Sometimes she had to let her walls down and just be Xena, the woman, rather than Xena- Warrior Princess. It was hard to find a place where she felt happy to be her true self. Home was one place where she didn't worry about letting people see what she felt. After all, some of them had seen her as a baby. Another place she had to relax was a little hunting cabain a little way outside of the town.
The guard grabbed her arm and she reacted with all the honed skills she had. She twisted his arm around his back and applied just enough pressure to cause him pain. A fraction of an inch more and he'd have a broken arm. His partner, the older and wiser of the two, knew not to get into striking distance. He grabbed a lengthen of chain hanging from his belt and span it around his head. She heard the sound of the air moving and threw herself on the floor, landing awkwardly. The guard who had grabbed her wasn't quick enough and took the brunt of the impact. The result wasn't pretty at all. The result wasn't pretty at all. He lay on the floor, unconscious or dead. She didn't take the time to check.
The older guard dropped the length of chain and drew his short sword. Any normal day, she would have been more than his match. Today, chained and still a little winded from her tumble, she could only defend herself from his half hearted blows. He had no wish to kill a bound person, and a woman at that. He hit her with the side of his sword, leaving a red mark that would bruise by nightfall. He seemed to suddenly tire of the fight, and hit her across the temple with his sword. She felt a second's disorientation, and then blackness enveloped her senses.
Inside the Jail- 1 candle mark later
When she woke from the blow, she found that she was chained securely to the wall. It was damp, cold and very rough. She could feel several scrapes on her back and shoulders where the roughly hewn stone had torn through the thin shift she wore. It added to her discomfort, but she could ignore it. For now.
Looking around the cell, she guessed that it was underground. There was a barred window opposite her, but even if she had managed to break free of the chains, she would never be able to fit through it. It was only as deep as her hand span. The rest of the cell was empty. The floor was littered with slowly decomposing straw. The door, which was on her right, looked solid and un-breakable. It had a barred window in the top of it. Thee was nothing in the cell that she could use to free herself.
She would have cursed, but at the moment, the wooden door opened. A short, thin man walked into the cell. He was stooped, and looked aged. Thin clothes covered a frail looking body. What little hair he had left was shockingly white against his grimy skin. Nothing about his appearance looked dangerous, but something about him sent a shiver of unease running through Xena. She knew that nothing good could come from him being in her cell.
Without consciously noticing it, she sat up a little straighter, and something akin to defiance burned in her eyes. She was almost frightening to look upon. The man didn't stop until he was just outside of her striking range. When he looked at her, she saw insanity in his grey eyes. She knew she'd be lucky to leave the cell unharmed. She mentally prepared herself for the agony that was to come.
The frail old man was nothing like his appearance suggested. He had almost unbelievable strength for someone of his size. He wasn't all that old, either. A few to many hard winters in the army had withered his body, but hardened his soul. The white haired man nodded to the two guards, who brought the tools of his trade into the small room. For the woman, he had brought special tools. A knife that he had killed for was the instrument he planned to start with.
At his snapped command, the guards put down his bags and left the cell. The last one almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to leave the chamber.
"I, lady, am Tomas." his voice was low, and deeper that she had thought it would be.
"I'm impressed." the sarcasm was thick and hard to miss.
"You will be." Tomas said, the certainty in his tone convincing.
She raised a brow at him. "What? Let me guess. You're gonna talk me to death."
"No, lady. Talk is what you're going to do." something in his tone was threatening, and despite her bravado, Xena was worried.
"Try me." She bit off, "You're not the first, and you wont be the last."
"Ah, but I am the best, lady. But you'll find that out for yourself soon enough." he smiled at her, his mouth moving, eyes staying cold. As cold as the grave.
He opened the bag, and reached in. The knife that he pulled out was truly awe inspiring. Six inches of black metal, forged into a single edged blade. The hilt was made from carved horn, and had been buffed to a dull shine by the countless times it had been used. In the dim light, the knife edge glinted like a river in the night. He caressed the blade lovingly, drawing blood where the edge cut his skin.
"I killed for this, you know. Stuck my knife right in a man's gut." His tone was almost dreamy.
He stepped forward, right into her range. She drove a kick at him, putting all the power she had behind it.
She missed. He dodged, moving like a cat. She was expecting a blow back, but he simply stood and watched as she sat back up.
"You'll have to do better than that, lady." he struck out at her, hitting an accurate blow with the handle of the knife. Blood welled from the cut along her cheekbone, and she arched back in surprise. She hadn't seen the blow coming.
She strengthened her resolve, and spat "give me whatya got." He did.
The jail was a small building built of thick stone blocks. There wasn't a distinguishing mark on it, but the people who passed treated it with wary respect. From inside, she could hear the chilling screams of one of it's occupants. No expense had been spared when building it, but that didn't't surprise Xena. Persis had been a rich man when he still drew breath. He'd hurt her deeply, and in a lasting way. She'd caught him plotting to kill her and destroy the towns she was protecting. The town whose jail she stood facing was one of the, even though no-one who lived there knew she watched over it. She had visited the town as a child, with her uncle and had fallen in love with it.
When she'd goaded him into a duel with her, she knew that there was a good chance she could lose. He was a better fighter than she was. She beat him fair and square though. The fight had been a difficult one for her, it terms of physical effort and mental pain. She hadn't planned to kill him, but it had happened. His was the first death at her hands that she felt remorse for.
Her attention snapped back to the present as the judge spoke to her. She quietly cursed herself for letting her focus slip.
"This, Princess, is your new home." His tone was condemning and sarcastic. "I do hope you enjoy your stay." He spat on the ground at her feet and walked away.
She watched as the same guards that had been tasked with watching her came across the sparse grass that was laid in front of the jailhouse like a thread-bare rug. They both wore matching smiles, and inwardly she shuddered. The thought of what was coming made her feel sick. It wasn't exactly fear, more dread. Her own dark past had been punctuated with beatings and torture. Crucifixion seemed to be most people's favourite method of trying to kill her.
This time, she guessed that it would be a good old-fashioned beating. Normally, given the chance, she would distance herself from the scene. This time, she feared she wouldn't be able too. She wasn't the impermeable, untouchable stone angel that people imagined her to be. She bled just like they did, and could die just as easily. People needed to paint her as above them, as a sort of demi-god so that they could sleep easily at night. If she was just a mere mortal, they could just as easily fall into dark ways.
It was okay with her, most of the time. Sometimes she had to let her walls down and just be Xena, the woman, rather than Xena- Warrior Princess. It was hard to find a place where she felt happy to be her true self. Home was one place where she didn't worry about letting people see what she felt. After all, some of them had seen her as a baby. Another place she had to relax was a little hunting cabain a little way outside of the town.
The guard grabbed her arm and she reacted with all the honed skills she had. She twisted his arm around his back and applied just enough pressure to cause him pain. A fraction of an inch more and he'd have a broken arm. His partner, the older and wiser of the two, knew not to get into striking distance. He grabbed a lengthen of chain hanging from his belt and span it around his head. She heard the sound of the air moving and threw herself on the floor, landing awkwardly. The guard who had grabbed her wasn't quick enough and took the brunt of the impact. The result wasn't pretty at all. The result wasn't pretty at all. He lay on the floor, unconscious or dead. She didn't take the time to check.
The older guard dropped the length of chain and drew his short sword. Any normal day, she would have been more than his match. Today, chained and still a little winded from her tumble, she could only defend herself from his half hearted blows. He had no wish to kill a bound person, and a woman at that. He hit her with the side of his sword, leaving a red mark that would bruise by nightfall. He seemed to suddenly tire of the fight, and hit her across the temple with his sword. She felt a second's disorientation, and then blackness enveloped her senses.
Inside the Jail- 1 candle mark later
When she woke from the blow, she found that she was chained securely to the wall. It was damp, cold and very rough. She could feel several scrapes on her back and shoulders where the roughly hewn stone had torn through the thin shift she wore. It added to her discomfort, but she could ignore it. For now.
Looking around the cell, she guessed that it was underground. There was a barred window opposite her, but even if she had managed to break free of the chains, she would never be able to fit through it. It was only as deep as her hand span. The rest of the cell was empty. The floor was littered with slowly decomposing straw. The door, which was on her right, looked solid and un-breakable. It had a barred window in the top of it. Thee was nothing in the cell that she could use to free herself.
She would have cursed, but at the moment, the wooden door opened. A short, thin man walked into the cell. He was stooped, and looked aged. Thin clothes covered a frail looking body. What little hair he had left was shockingly white against his grimy skin. Nothing about his appearance looked dangerous, but something about him sent a shiver of unease running through Xena. She knew that nothing good could come from him being in her cell.
Without consciously noticing it, she sat up a little straighter, and something akin to defiance burned in her eyes. She was almost frightening to look upon. The man didn't stop until he was just outside of her striking range. When he looked at her, she saw insanity in his grey eyes. She knew she'd be lucky to leave the cell unharmed. She mentally prepared herself for the agony that was to come.
The frail old man was nothing like his appearance suggested. He had almost unbelievable strength for someone of his size. He wasn't all that old, either. A few to many hard winters in the army had withered his body, but hardened his soul. The white haired man nodded to the two guards, who brought the tools of his trade into the small room. For the woman, he had brought special tools. A knife that he had killed for was the instrument he planned to start with.
At his snapped command, the guards put down his bags and left the cell. The last one almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to leave the chamber.
"I, lady, am Tomas." his voice was low, and deeper that she had thought it would be.
"I'm impressed." the sarcasm was thick and hard to miss.
"You will be." Tomas said, the certainty in his tone convincing.
She raised a brow at him. "What? Let me guess. You're gonna talk me to death."
"No, lady. Talk is what you're going to do." something in his tone was threatening, and despite her bravado, Xena was worried.
"Try me." She bit off, "You're not the first, and you wont be the last."
"Ah, but I am the best, lady. But you'll find that out for yourself soon enough." he smiled at her, his mouth moving, eyes staying cold. As cold as the grave.
He opened the bag, and reached in. The knife that he pulled out was truly awe inspiring. Six inches of black metal, forged into a single edged blade. The hilt was made from carved horn, and had been buffed to a dull shine by the countless times it had been used. In the dim light, the knife edge glinted like a river in the night. He caressed the blade lovingly, drawing blood where the edge cut his skin.
"I killed for this, you know. Stuck my knife right in a man's gut." His tone was almost dreamy.
He stepped forward, right into her range. She drove a kick at him, putting all the power she had behind it.
She missed. He dodged, moving like a cat. She was expecting a blow back, but he simply stood and watched as she sat back up.
"You'll have to do better than that, lady." he struck out at her, hitting an accurate blow with the handle of the knife. Blood welled from the cut along her cheekbone, and she arched back in surprise. She hadn't seen the blow coming.
She strengthened her resolve, and spat "give me whatya got." He did.