Chapter Eighteen: A Bird's Nest

The long-awaited message finally arrived, and Augusta Sabina had been able to get out of her husband's watchful eye for a couple of hours. She knew that Nero was paranoid as of late. He no longer held events or parties at the palace due to his suspicions. While she secretly slipped out of the palace, she knew her absence would cause alarm and didn't want to be out too late.

She wandered through the outer rim of the market, spotting her messenger. As usual, she instructed her maidens to wait for her at a fair distance. Sabina pulled the veil over her hair, covering the lower half of her face, and met with her messenger.

The blond Roman yanked off the cloak hood and pulled out the message with a surly smile. Cautious, the Empress took the note, read it over quickly, and the expression she wore was anything but pleased.

"She's still alive," Sabina stated, disappointed and irritated, painfully obvious in her tone. "Why is that? And all of Eylül's ships have been burned!" she gasped, clasping a hand on her chest. "That woman is going to owe thousands to this empire. Why is Xena alive? You know where she lives?"

The messenger implied a nod. "I do. It's the same exact villa she's been staying in. Almost all of her people saw her. They know what she looks like."

Sabina batted her eyelashes. She folded the parchment several times over, creating stark creases. None of this was panning out like she hoped it would. If she put so much trust into several different people, she would've thought that this problem would've been solved by now. Except, it wasn't.

"I want to speak with the Governor. This is taking entirely too long."

He scratched his throat, "Augusta, he does not like visitors."

"If you don't take me to him, then I will expose his plan and tell Nero everything," her eyes flared as she set a gentle hand on the messenger's shoulder.

He relented, although forced, and agreed to her threat. "Two days. I will take you to him. Don't bring them," he motioned to the anxious maidens.

"It will be rather difficult for me to leave the palace without them," she tapped her cheek pensively. "I will think of a way," she flicked her hand.

"Until then, Empress," he gruffly mumbled, bowing his head.

Sabina grabbed his wrist. "One more thing; did you ever find out who the women are in that villa?"

A week after the news was broken, she felt more lost than when she arrived in this region. She didn't plan for her life to end up the way that it did. She also didn't plan on living with one of the most despised women in the Roman Empire, but here she was. As Varinia contemplated for days, she couldn't wrap her head around her life and the way it was all pieced together. There were a few missing pieces, but she'd probably never find those pieces to solve her complicated puzzle.

Sitting on the bed, she picked at the blanket's threads, pulling pieces out one by one. She had a pile of yarn by now, and soon there would be a hole in this very expensive blanket. She lifted her gaze to Evander, who walked in with a glass of juice and a plate of unidentifiable food.

Evander smiled and sat on the bed, careful of his leg, and slid the plate across the bed. Varinia took a quick glance at the plate of hot grains and vegetables with a viscous sauce over it. She immediately pursed her mouth and pushed the plate away.

"Why won't you eat it? The sauce has tomatoes," he encouraged. "Erva made it."

Varinia raised her eyebrow with a wide-eyed look of shock. She never thought Erva would be the type to linger in kitchens over a hot pan. She supposed that woman was skilled in many things and that also included cooking. Still, she denied the food.

"You've hardly eaten anything in days. Don't make me go back out there with a full plate. I'm going to get a mean look."

"Evander!" she griped. "Can you…please, just stop."

Taken aback, he set the plate aside and inched closer. "What did I do? I'm trying to be nice to you like you asked me to."

"Yes, and that's the problem," she muttered.

"I don't understand."

"Why—why are you so calm about this? Evander, you—you didn't even want to come here in the first place! You wanted to move somewhere else, and now…"

Evander saw tears welling in her green eyes, and this is the part where he didn't how to respond or what to say. Instead, he kept to himself and heard her trying to minimize her feelings. He took a quick glance and wiped a tear from Varinia's cheek.

"Can you please tell me what I'm doing wrong?"

Varinia wiped her nose. "Evander," she began, her voice breaking, "you didn't want anything to do with Xena when we came here, and now you need her when it's convenient for you."

His defenses were up, and he straightened in posture. "Are you saying I'm using her? Let me remind you that she kidnapped me and brought me here—brought us both here!"

"Yes, and now that there's," she inhaled deeply, "a baby involved, you want to stay here, so she can help us, watch us, take care of us."

Evander slowly got up from the bed. "I don't know anything about taking care of a baby, Varinia! And neither do you. What do you suggest we do? Leave? We don't have anywhere to go."

"Exactly. So, you think it's alright to use her time, money, and hospitality because of this," she pointed to her stomach. "Yet, you wanted nothing to do with her before this happened, Evander! You won't even talk to or acknowledge her."

Her words stung, and a hand instantly splayed over his beating chest. He was too angry to respond, too confused to have this conversation. His mind was spinning in several directions, and the best thing he could do was leave. He grabbed the plate and glass, turning to leave. Once by the door, he paused, then turned around and set the glass and plate near the bed. At least, he thought that once he left, Varinia would try to eat something.

"You're using her for convenience, Evander," she said her final word before laying down, facing away from him.

Erva stood over a table in a tranquil state, grabbing small handfuls of the cooked grain and folding it into large grape leaves. Concentrated on the task, she didn't even notice Xena walking into the kitchen. Setting aside the rolled grape leaves onto a plate, she reached under the table to grab a bowl of washed leaves.

Xena curiously walked over to the table and picked at the grain. In the middle of eating the grain, Erva sprung up with the bowl in her hands and cast a wicked frown. She reached over, smacking Xena's hand.

"Don't touch that."

Chewing, Xena raised her hands. "Since when do you cook this much food?" she gestured to the array of plates. "Since when do you cook at all?"

"Since…always," Erva said, confiscating the bowl of grain from prying hands.

She waved her hand. "You're in a good mood." She reached across the table and pinched the irritated warrior's cheek. While distracted, she snatched a pinch of the grain and heard Erva curse in her native language.

"Ah, that's not a nice word, Erva," she teased, spooning the food from her palm into her mouth. "Needs more salt."

Erva threw the spoon into the bowl, placed her hands on her hips, and sent a knowing glare.

Xena licked her fingers, shrugging a shoulder. "I'll stop."

Disrupting the light-hearted mood centered in the home's hearth, Xian waltzed into the kitchen and halted in the doorway as both women turned towards him. He smoothed a palm over his head and coiled his long hair into a top-knot, ignoring their stares.

"Did you give the food to her?" asked Erva.

He shyly nodded. "I'm going for a walk."

Xena interjected, "you can't go outside."

He stopped halfway across the kitchen, groaning inwardly. "Then I'll just sit outside on the terrace."

She circled around the table and watched as her son plopped down on the bench. He had his head in between his knees, nervously bobbing a knee. Folding her arms, she kept her eye on him as he switched positions several times until he relaxed against the bench's back, gazing out of the terrace's open view of the forestry ahead.

Erva, kneading the grain, spoke over her shoulder, "are you going to talk to him?"

She doubted that Xian would ever want to express his feelings around her. She too had difficulty doing that herself the more she spent time around Gabrielle. She was so accustomed to keeping her thoughts and feelings to herself. Not even Erva could break that hard shell. And gradually, the shell splintered with small cracks the more she opened herself up to vulnerability.

"I'm sure he has a lot on his mind," Erva spoke once more.

Silently, she squeezed Erva's shoulder gently as a silent response. That meant no. Erva continued to knead the grain into a malleable paste, concealing her thoughts. She had said enough, at least enough not to stir the pot.

Varinia entered the kitchen, meeting Erva's gaze. Apprehension showed plainly as a day on her face. Uttering in her native language, she asked, "can I talk to you?"

Startled at the voice, Xena spun around and glanced over at Erva, who was hesitant to leave her spot.

"Did you finish your food already?" Erva asked, quickly eyeing Xena, who was oblivious to the conversation. By the worry etched on Varinia's face, there was no reason to keep kneading the grain. "I will meet you in your room."

Varinia gave a grateful and gratuitous smile then left the room right after she briefly acknowledged Xena.

Washing her hands, she couldn't shake the curious blue eyes beside her. Xena leaned against the table, arms folded, and raised an eyebrow.

"Do not touch any of that," Erva warned, pointing to the bowl.

"Hmm," her gaze shifted to the terrace. "What did Varinia want?"

Erva pulled her hair behind her shoulders. "I…don't know."

"You obviously do. You were conversing with her."

Erva sighed and threw the linen napkin on the table. "She just wants to talk to me. I will find out if you eat even a pinch, Xena."

Snuffing a laugh, Xena winked as her tall companion brushed by. There was a slight temptation to steal more of the grain, but knowing Erva's temper, she reneged the thought. Although she was curious about why Varinia wanted to speak to Erva alone, she wondered if she should be doing the same with Xian. Still, he sat on the terrace, noticeably irritable and a bit fidgety. Her mind began to wander, which wasn't always the best, and she thought maybe he and Varinia argued earlier.

I better not go there, she thought. Instead of mustering up any courage to talk to her son, she waltzed out of the kitchen and entered the lounge room. Rubbing her sore shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Gabrielle heading down the stairs, looking as if she just had a bath given her damp locks.

Gabrielle met her at the bottom of the stairs, and concern gathered in her forehead like a stitch. Her hand came to rest on the warrior's wound.

"You told me you were feeling better. I told you not to lie to me anymore."

Xena raised a surrendering palm. "I am feeling better. Just sore." She was aware of Gabrielle's skepticism. "I didn't want to wake you."

"I've been awake for a while, actually," she massaged the back of her neck. "And I smelled food. Did you…cook something?" there was a hint of laughter buried in her tone.

"That would be Erva."

Gabrielle's eyes fluttered. "Erva? Erva can cook?"

"She has many skills."

"So it seems…"

She padded over to the windows, drawing the curtains, and looked out at the busy streets ahead. She would've much rather be woken up to the aroma of food, but instead, she woke to a very busy Edirne. There were dozens of people who purposefully passed by this villa because they were curious about their ruler—about Xena—living in such close proximity to everybody.

While she knew that it was more than challenging for Xena to go out into the open, or rather, be explicitly exposed to the world, Xena could no longer hide away. The people knew where she lived. Her killers knew where she lived. No longer could Xena hide away and use Erva as her shadow any longer.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked, and Xena cinched her eyebrows. "Your people. You can't leave them in the dark, Xena."

Sighing, Xena walked over to the windows, peering at her people talking, gathering, pointing at the villa. Quickly, she withdrew and sat down on a sofa. She remembered when she first stepped foot out just last week. She intended to gather information on Eylül, but once the riots and fires broke out, she was subjected to her name being shouted all around her. She couldn't escape the foul things her people said about her.

"They think I raided their homes. Eylül made them believe that."

Gabrielle took a seat beside her, grabbing her hand. "We both know the truth, but your people don't. Hiding is just going to confirm their feelings."

"But how will I make them believe me?" she threw her hand in the air out of frustration. "Xian told me Eylül's cousin is in on everything! They even have some of my soldiers against me, Gabrielle! They slaughtered innocent people right in front of me."

A new emotion emerges once more. Frustrated and flustered. Fear. This wasn't about Romans or the Bastillias trying to kill her. It was all about her people trusting her, admiring her, and believing her to be a great ruler. You fear that people won't like you.

Gabrielle gracefully adjusted the rumpled sleeve of Xena's robe, finicking with the fabric. With reassurance, she squeezed Xena's hand, swiping her thumb over a knuckle. A small cut, a small cut between the two knuckles of her forefinger. She wouldn't have been able to feel nor notice the minuscule wound if she hadn't been so close. More people should be able to be close to you, Gabrielle thought.

"You've been absent for a long time," she started off slow, her voice gentle, "enemies should fear you, not your people," she shook her head.

One could always tell what kind of person someone is by their eyes. There, she looked into Gabrielle's eyes, and she saw honesty, affection, yet purpose and candor. She often wondered what others thought when they gazed at her from below—on their knees, most likely begging for mercy—but she didn't ever want to find out what lay in someone's mind most of the time. But Gabrielle wasn't kneeling before her nor pleading for her life.

"I mean, look at me," Gabrielle continued, her face brightening. "I haven't known you that long, and I trust you."

There was so much more that she wanted to add, but given the silence she received, she chose to keep her words to herself. She studied the warrior's troubled regard, conveying almost a sense of confusion.

A sign of gratitude was shown by kissing Gabrielle's hand gingerly. Her lips glued to flesh; her eyes lifted to meet the stunning gaze beside her. Her smile was like a sudden beam of sunlight, and she clasped her hand over their already intertwined hands.

"Does this mean you'll think about what I said?" Gabrielle blushingly replied.

"I will. Thank you. I needed that." Leaning over, her voice softened, "you always know what to say."

Gabrielle's grin flickered across her face.

"But there is one thing I need to get rid of first."

An unfocused stare only brought her expression to its full resolve.

"Eylül."

There certainly were suspicions, and she refused to believe it, but now she knew it was true. As she recalled the last year, she remembered a tall woman with impressively long hair that frequented the artistry shop. They even met a few times, and she always thought there was something off about that woman, and now she knew why.

Yet, she couldn't quite bring the two pieces together. Gabrielle.

Perhaps Xena was merely using Gabrielle, or maybe she kidnapped her. That seemed like the only logical reason as to why a blonde Roman-abiding citizen would be in the grasp of someone from the East.

Sabina had wallowed enough in her room. Two days it had been, and she was scheduled to meet with the Governor face-to-face. She didn't know what to expect, though she was anxious to leave the palace as Nero was simply paranoid about every little thing that went awry in Rome. It could be as simple as someone stealing fruit off the palace trees. Sabina couldn't take it anymore, and so she managed to leave the palace without anyone noticing. Not the wisest choice, but she needed to be stealthy.

The messenger waited near their usual spot, and Sabina calmly but hastily weaseled her way through the crowd. If she hadn't worn common cloth and a veil to shield her face, she would've been recognized in an instant. She met with the blond messenger, and they trailed to a more secluded area before she unclipped the veil off the cloak's hood.

She pulled out a small rolled parchment and placed it in the man's hand. She curled his fingers around the note with an exuberant smile. The messenger gawked at her warily, almost afraid of what was written laden in his palm.

"I want that delivered to Edirne."

Understanding, he tucked the message in his pocket, and Sabina snatched his wrist firmly.

"But I want the Edirne messenger to deliver that to Xena's villa."

"Augusta…?"

She needn't feel like explaining herself, and as her vision narrowed to a pinprick, the messenger looked away from her predatory stare.

"Now that that's settled take me to the Governor."

He waved his hand, trailing down the alley to the northern area of the city. "We'll be going through the cisterns to reach—"

"The cisterns!"

"Augusta, it is safer this way. Follow me. We want to make sure we aren't seen." He extended his hand.

Over the last couple of days, Xena sent a few of her men to search the entire city for Eylül's whereabouts. Knowing that woman, she was probably hiding out in one of her lavish apartment homes scattered around the region. She couldn't have left Edirne as she was bound to come back sooner or later.

Xian peered from a small entryway at Varinia and Erva whispering in the lounge. He was a bit annoyed that Varinia spent most of her time talking to Erva lately. He could barely get a word in, and the bed they shared was cold and distant. They might as well not even be sleeping in the same bed. If it weren't for her physical body beside him, he would've never known she was there.

In his side-eye view, Gabrielle approached, and he straightened his posture. There was no way he could look at her either. He couldn't remember the last time they had a decent conversation together, and the truth was, he was avoiding her. Just like he was avoiding Xena. Here he was, in a house full of women, and he felt numerously outnumbered in every way possible. He was also the youngest person in this house. It was a lose-lose situation.

"Hey," she looked up at his steely gaze. "We've gotta stop meeting like this—you and I—in these weird circumstances," she chuckled.

Xian's mouth quirked sideways at the jest. "We're in the same home with the enemy we were assigned to kill."

Gabrielle's throat numbed, and her mouth went dry. She tried to forget that, but she couldn't. She thought about that from time to time, but everything was so different now. She was fortunate enough to know one side of Xena that nobody else in Rome could see. Xian didn't know that side and might never see it. His views of his own mother were tainted for so many reasons.

"How're you…holding up?" she asked.

Ignoring her question, Xian displayed his frustration by motioning to the chatty women across the room. "Why is she talking to her? Why won't she talk to me?"

Gabrielle looked over at the sofa. "They speak the same language," she mustered up an excuse. "Varinia might feel more comfortable expressing herself with someone who understands her."

"But I understand her better. I've known her longer than anyone here, and she's over there talking to Erva," he grumbled.

There, he sounded like a teenager, and Gabrielle had to remind herself that Xian was, in fact, a teenager, just shy of twenty years old. He didn't understand a lot of the world, and the small world he knew was painted red. Gabrielle also assumed he was a poor communicator, much like his mother.

"Just give her some time. I'm sure she's still in shock."

Xian folded his arms, leaning against the wall, and groaned. "Well, she can't avoid me forever. I need her to talk to me."

She ran her tongue over her top teeth, holding in a chuckle. Yeah, definitely like Xena, she thought. But she could see why he was so incensed. Erva wasn't an easy person to talk to, yet she had no problem conversing with Varinia. They even looked to be having a good conversation, given their expressions.

As fast as she was able, Xena hurried down the staircase, clad in her signature black pants and long-sleeved tunic. She held her fur hat beneath her arm and a hefty cape draped over her other arm. She whistled at Erva, breaking the intimate conversation.

Gabrielle's chest knocked, and she glanced over at Xian's steaming stare. He was so fixated on Varinia, he could think of nothing else.

"Have you tried talking to…" she pointed over to Xena.

Finally, that broke his piercing tunnel vision, and he saw Xena speaking with Erva near the villa's entrance. He hadn't shared words with Xena since she bandaged his leg in the middle of the night. And that felt like so long ago. Only, that was a little over a week ago.

"No…" he muttered. "She should talk to me first."

Gabrielle held her tongue. "I think she's more nervous than you," she reminded him. "But I bet she'd really like it if you tried to talk to her."

She gave Xian's arm a firm squeeze and padded across the room, passing by Varinia, who sat idly, obviously avoiding the stare from the opposite chamber. She stood in front of the two tall women, and for once, she didn't receive a nasty look from her lovely housemate, Erva.

"Going somewhere?" her eyes scanned Xena's outfit.

"I found out where our favorite Bastillia is hiding." She placed the hat on her head, tucking in the fringed hair. "I'm going to arrest her."

Gabrielle crossed her arms, sour-mouthed, and stated, "and Erva's going to go with you."

Eyes locked, Xena said with a smile rimming her eyes, "actually, I want you to come with me. Erva will stay here."

Sabina grew wary as she was lead through the cisterns and into the countryside of Rome. She wouldn't be caught dead out here, and there was nowhere to run or hide. Open fields of grass, not a human in sight, just animals that flocked here and there. She treaded through the tall grass stalks, guided by the messenger.

They arrived at a small villa, although it looked more like a shack. It definitely didn't look habitable, but as they drew closer, there were clearly people here. Two guards were posted on either side of the door and recognized Sabina to be the Empress. Not even her ordinary clothes could fool them.

Eyeing the guards, Augusta Sabina recognized them. She'd seen them before. After the messenger exchanged a quick conversation, they were allowed entry. Sabina slipped by the men, eyeing their leathers from head to toe, and stepped into the rundown villa. In the back of the room, the only room was a man sitting in a chair, wearing a brown cloak and hood covering half his face.

She was alone now since the messenger left the shack. She jumped as the door closed and now felt it was a huge mistake coming here all by herself. The cloaked man leaned forward in the chair, causing a loud creak of the wood rubbing against the weight of his frame.

"Empress," he cast a grin beneath the hood, nearly visible to the eye.

She studied the wavering voice, instantly recognizing it. She had heard this man's voice before. She could nearly put a face to it, though she wasn't too sure of how factored her intuition was anymore.

"You traveled a long way. Our messages weren't sufficient, I gather."

Her plan was made oblivious to Nero, and she intended to keep it that way, but if she was correct, this man wasn't exactly who she wanted to be making deals with. This concerned the future of the empire and the future of ridding the Steppe ruler as well.

He slowly removed the hood and lifted his eyes, startling the petite empress. Sabina clapped a hand over her mouth, fear exuberant across her features.

"I've always known you to be quite talkative, Augusta. Now, you are tongue-tied," his lopsided smile caused Sabina's stomach to knot. "Have a seat."

Over a dozen men stormed into the home, and with a bit of struggle, two soldiers brought out a very angry, cursing, Eylül. She was forced to her knees outside of her summer home and growled, attempting to snatch her arms from the manhandling men.

Bastillia focused on the black boots at her knees, and slowly her gaze drifted upward to lock eyes with Xena's stern face. Her cheeks chalked, and for a moment, she felt brief relief.

Xena held out her hand, and Gabrielle emerged from behind, handing off a rolled parchment. Xena, emanating a humorless smile, or maybe it was a satisfactory smile. Either way, Eylül couldn't contain the stitched brow on her forehead.

Rolling out the parchment, there was hesitation as she gaped at the words. They seemed to move on the page as she kept trying to decipher what they meant. She slowly looked over her shoulder at Gabrielle, who gave a reassuring smile and gesture with an inclined head.

With focus, she stared at the words once more, now able to make out most of the words or what little she could understand. Xena shoved the parchment in Bastillia's face.

"A bill of sale, signed by you and none other than…Poppaea Augusta Sabina."

As Eylül quickly read over the document gifted by the Roman Empress, it was yanked away. Sweat trickled down her forehead, although it was mildly frigid outside. She scanned the many soldiers surrounding her home, and all worked for her—for Xena—for the Edirne Conqueror, the 'Steppe Queen' as Rome called her.

Xena handed the document back to Gabrielle, knelt down on a knee, and gently lifted Eylül's chin with a gloved finger.

"As you know very well, I forbid trade with the Roman Empire."

She leaned in, nearly touching cheeks, and whispered, "and China," her eyes crinkled at the corners.