Dusk hung over the encampment like a pall, shrouding the tents in darkness. The tents were black outlines against the night sky. Only a few fires burned; an eerie, deathly silence hung over the entire encampment. They were in mourning.

Callisto's second, a man named Theodorus, had begun what Gabrielle understood would be a long process of bringing up Callisto's massive army, joining it with Xena's horde. Xena's soldiers seemed to be in shock, as if they could not believe that their invincible mistress was dead; they wandered the lanes looking numb, lost—much as Gabrielle herself felt. Callisto's men were immediately distinguishable; they were scruffy and unkempt in contrast with the orderly discipline of Xena's men, and walked the streets in pride, grinning nastily as they looked on their new comrades. Gabrielle was afraid of them.

Callisto herself was not in evidence. After she had shrieked herself out over her dead rival, she had at last risen. Carrying Xena's body clasped close against her, the Bright Warrior had retreated to the Dark Conqueror's tent, and had not been seen since.

I have to get out of here.

Xena's words burned in Gabrielle's mind. With her dying breath, Xena had made the Bright Warrior promise to protect her….but from what she had seen of Callisto, Gabrielle had no confidence in how long that promise would last. It was dangerous to go, she knew that—if Callisto caught her trying to escape—but even more dangerous not to. As soon as dusk had fallen, Gabrielle changed out of the white clothing Xena had given her, back into her green top and red skirt. Taking what few possessions she could find, Gabrielle carefully stole out into the darkened lanes of the encampment.

The lanes were deserted. There were no soldiers out on the avenues after dark, not even drinking or dicing. Once, Gabrielle caught sight of what looked a patrol, passing at some distance from her; but she ducked behind some tents, and they passed unseen. She did not encounter another one.

When she reached the edge of the darkened assembly ground, Gabrielle paused, trying to get her bearings. She was trying to determine the best way to proceed to leave the encampment, when the sound of muffled clinking drifted to her ears, startling her—at first she feared that a patrol was coming up behind her. As she searched for a place to hide, running her gaze over the encampment square, her eyes lit on the Dragon Throne, still under its awning, and the shadow at the base of it.

The slave.

His chained hands were up at the collar around his neck, and he appeared to be struggling with something; as Gabrielle drew closer to him, she could hear muttered curses. Gabrielle could move quietly when she wanted to, and the slave was absorbed in his work; he did not see her there until she spoke.

"What are you doing?"

He started and looked up; his dark eyes glimmered with the light from the moon. It took him a moment to recognize her; when he did, his brows drew together in a scowl. "Go away." He returned to his work. Looking more closely, Gabrielle could tell what he was trying to do; he appeared to be trying to pick the lock that held the chain to his collar.

"You're trying to escape, aren't you?"

"Brilliant. What a genius you are." His hands slipped and he cursed quietly to himself; Gabrielle could see blood lacing his knuckles, dark in the moonlight. It was clear he could not see what he was doing; the collar was too tight around his neck. Gabrielle stared at him.

I can't leave him here.

She didn't trust Callisto's promise to Xena to protect her safety, and Callisto had made no such promise in regards to the slave. What will Callisto do to him, the moment she stops mourning Xena? Gabrielle didn't even want to think about that. Even assuming he gets the chain off, there are his legs. He can't make it on his own. And then….they had shared Xena's death. They had shared Xena.

Quietly, Gabrielle knelt beside him. "Here," she said, pulling her lockpick out of her belt pouch. "Let me."

He shouldered her away. "I don't need your help, little girl. Leave me alone."

"You can't see what you're doing—"

"I can see enough," he said, though he clearly couldn't. "I said, leave me alone."

"Come on—"

"Get lost," he ordered her sharply, and shrugged away from her again.

"You could at least let me help you," Gabrielle hissed in exasperation to his back. "I'm trying to escape too—we could go together! After all, you—" She took a breath, then hazarded a guess. "You loved Xena too—"

The slave stopped. She saw his shoulders tighten. After a moment, he turned back to look at her; she could see raw anger in his eyes in the moonlight. He started to snap at her, then stopped and seemed to get a grip on himself. His mouth curled in a cold smile. "Just like a foolish, emotional woman," he said scornfully. "Spend a day with someone, no matter how insignificant, and you think it's love. Xena was the best of you, and she was no different," he added, and his smile took on an even sharper edge. "Go ply your charms on Callisto, little girl, as you did with Xena. Someone like you—" and he ran his eyes over her from head to toe, definitely conveying the impression that she was not worth such a close scrutiny "—holds no interest for me."

Gabrielle stared at him for a moment, unable to believe he had said what she thought he said; when she realized it, a surge of anger welled up in her. On top of everything she had endured that day, this nastiness from Xena's slave—when she had been trying to help him—was just too much. She reacted before she thought, snatching his improvised lock pick out of his hand and stepping back out of his reach.

"You apologize," she said, her voice shaking.

He could not have looked more shocked than she herself felt at doing such a thing. After a moment, his eyes narrowed angrily. "Give that back to me this instant," he demanded.

"No. Not until you apologize. I was trying to help you—"

His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed further. "Apologize to you? I don't think so. Give it back, now."

"You apologize," Gabrielle said unsteadily, "or I start screaming for Callisto."

That got his attention. She could see him attempting to evaluate the likelihood that she would do it, and not liking the odds he came up with. Gabrielle had intended it as a bluff. Mostly. At that moment, she was not entirely certain she would not.

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I? Xena made her promise not to harm me." She could see the flash of real anger in his face, and she drew in a breath as if to yell.

"Wait—" He closed his eyes and inhaled. His entire body tensed, and between clenched teeth he forced out, "I—didn't mean it."

That was a lie. Gabrielle knew that he had meant it…..but at the same time, it was an apology of sorts. After a long moment, she bent down to him.

"What are you doing—" he began, drawing away from her, but Gabrielle gripped his collar. Using her lockpick, not his—his was no more than a splinter of wood—she unlocked the chain from his collar. It fell to the ground, clanking slightly: a dark serpent in the dust.

The slave looked at the chain for a long moment, then raised his bound hands, feeling the place on his collar where the chain had been attached. He reached down and picked up the end of the chain from the ground, examining that for a time. He looked, Gabrielle thought, as if he couldn't believe it.

"You—" he began, staring at her. His brows contracted in a slight frown.

Gabrielle stood up. She held out a hand to him. I'm going to regret this, she thought to herself, but even so, knew that she had no choice. "Come on," she told him again.

The slave regarded the end of the chain, then with a sudden movement let it drop. When he looked back up at her, she noticed a strange distance in his eyes. "Yes." Bracing himself with his hands, he got his feet under him, then struggled to rise. He almost fell as his mangled legs gave under him.

"Help me." It was a command.

Nevertheless, Gabrielle squatted beside him, tugging at his shoulder and locking one of her arms around his waist. He leaned on her as heavily as he could without her falling over, and somehow they managed to get him to his feet.

"North," he instructed, gesturing peremptorily with his bound hands.

"Why?"

"Callisto's army is to the south. Theodorus and Dagnon are still bringing them up. The north will have fewer guards, and the perimeter is also closer."

"All right." Letting him lean on her, Gabrielle stepped away from the Dragon Throne, and headed to the north exit from the square.

It took them over an hour to make it to the perimeter, though the actual distance was not that far. The slave's legs made walking extremely difficult; they had to stop multiple times to allow him to rest, and even when they were in motion they moved at a snail's pace. Gabrielle could see by the set of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes that he was frustrated with the limitations of his body, but there was nothing they could do. Gabrielle fretted about the likelihood of running into guards on the edge of camp, but the sentry they encountered was curled up asleep with a wineskin in one hand. The slave grimaced in disgust at the sight. "Xena's not even cold yet and this is what happens to her army?"

They were only as far as the first milestone when the telltale lightness of dawn began creeping into the east; it was not morning yet, but it soon would be. The slave had stopped again to rest his legs, and was rubbing them and cursing as he sat on a log. Gabrielle bit her lip.

This isn't working, she thought to herself. He saw her eyeing him and looked at her coldly until she turned away. Gabrielle wandered across the clearing to face a tangle of raspberry bushes, biting her lip.

We should have gotten some horses, she thought to herself. Why didn't I think to stop and get some horses first? Because she hadn't known where the picket lines were and because they might have been heavily guarded; she knew the answer, but it didn't make her feel any better. She could see already that the slave would not be able to make it any great distance with any speed. If we get into a situation where we have to run, we're going to be in serious trouble….

She was still thinking that when, as if in answer to her thoughts, the bushes rustled. The slave looked around from his seat on the log. "What is that?"

"I don't know." Gabrielle backed up toward where he sat, wishing for some sort of weapon. All she had was her little belt knife. The bushes rustled again, just long enough for Gabrielle to conjure up all sorts of horrible ideas in her overstressed imagination; she clutched her belt knife as the bushes parted to reveal….

"Argo?"

That had been her companion, not her; the palomino mare nosed aside the remaining shrubs and came into the clearing, snorting gently. She was still caparisoned with Xena's gear, as she had been the last time Gabrielle had seen her—Xena's final fight. Gabrielle couldn't believe it. Her companion, she saw, simply nodded to himself, with that superior smile; he didn't appear in the least bit surprised.

Argo came across the clearing toward her, her hooves making no sound on the leaf-strewn turf. She whickered, and Gabrielle felt the horse's warm breath on her skin; then the mare bumped her with her velvety nose. "What does she want?" Gabrielle asked the slave.

"I expect she followed us," the slave said; again, he sounded as if he had known it all along. "Callisto already has a horse, Charybdis; no need for another one." He heaved himself to his feet. "I'll take her. Here, lift me up there."

Argo sidestepped and whuffed as Gabrielle tried to boost the slave onto her back; she pranced away from the two of them, whickering and tossing her head. "Hold still!" Gabrielle pleaded with her; when Gabrielle looped her reins over an arm, Argo finally calmed and allowed her to heave the slave into the saddle. But when Gabrielle passed the reins up to the slave (wondering for a moment if he would simply touch his heels to Argo's sides and leave her standing in the dust), Argo would not go. He dug his heels into Argo's sides, slapped the reins against her neck, tried every command he could think of, but the mare just stood there, ears out to either side, ignoring him. Gabrielle swore she could detect a look of stubbornness in the mare's eyes.

At last he tossed the reins down in defeat. "Stupid horse," he said in disgust.

"Calling her stupid is a good way to get her to want to listen to you," Gabrielle observed.

"She is a stupid horse." He kicked her in the sides angrily, then his eyes widened as Argo snorted. The mare whickered and reared, and a brief moment later the slave was lying in the dirt, cursing Argo furiously. Gabrielle went to him and helped him up.

"Let me try."

"You?" He looked at her in astonishment. "If she won't obey me, what on earth makes you think she'll listen to you?" And he gave that superior smile again. Gabrielle realized she was getting very tired of that expression.

"We'll see."

Argo stood as silent as an old nag as Gabrielle swung up into the saddle, and started the moment she touched her heels to the horse's sides. Gabrielle guided her around the clearing in a circle; Argo obeyed her flawlessly. Facing the slave from the horse's back, Gabrielle smiled down at him. "She'll listen to me."

The slave's jaw tensed. He looked away. "We'll have to ride double," he brought out after a moment. He did not say why. He did not need to; it was obvious that his legs would not carry him. His expression said that he didn't like it at all. That makes two of us, Gabrielle thought, looking down at him. But she knew he was right.

She swung down. As she was struggling, again, to lift the slave into the saddle—he was heavy—something occurred to her. "What's your name?" she asked him.

The slave stopped. His dark eyes glinted, and he stepped back. "Caesar," he told her with that slight smile. "Julius Caesar."

Gabrielle thought, but the name meant nothing to her. "Never heard of you." Although…. She frowned, thinking.

A flash of irritation crossed the slave's face. "The emperor of Rome." He sounded as if he were saying something so obvious that it should not have to be explained.

Gabrielle thought some more, and then suddenly she had it—the tale of Rome's destruction at the hands of Xena. It had never said what had happened to the emperor after Xena had burned Rome to the ground. She realized she was staring at a fragment of the bardic tales right in front of her. "You mean you're—" He did not make a response, but she saw a strange, bitter pride in his face. "Wow," she said after a moment. "And she's had you as her slave all this time?"

"Yes." His jaw tightened.

Gabrielle stared at him some more, thinking. After a moment, she said, "Xena must really hate you, huh?"

He said nothing, but something flickered in his eyes. Gabrielle wondered at it.

"Why didn't you surrender?" she began, thinking of one of the running discussions she'd had with her fellow bards at the Academy. "None of us could ever figure it out. The tales say that Xena offered you the choice—"

He glared at her. "Are we going to talk, or are we going to escape?"

"Okay! Forget I brought it up!" she said with a shrug. A sensitive spot—something to remember, she reminded herself.

Argo stood still for her as she boosted the slave—Caesar, she reminded herself, it was so strange to think of this slave as Caesar—into the saddle, then swung up before him herself. She did not like being so close to him, and tensed as his chained hands gripped her waist for balance; she glanced over her shoulder. "Those hands better not move," she warned him.

He looked at her disdainfully. "Don't flatter yourself, little girl."

"Whatever. Just remember what I've said." He didn't bother to answer.

Did I do the right thing, saving him? Gabrielle wondered as she touched her heels to Argo's sides; the horse obeyed her at once, setting off down the road. He would almost certainly have died if I had left him where he was…but what have I gotten myself into? What is going to happen to us?

The thoughts were in her mind as she guided Argo carefully over the ruts in the trail. The road ahead of her was dark in the shadows from the overhanging trees; it bent in the moonlight, a dark path. She could not see its end.

Finis.