Chapter Four
Wolf's keen senses of smell and sight shown him that he was almost to the area of the ocean that the Christians were chasing the others. He could see that they were not going to be in time. The hair stood up on his back, and he howled for already women were drowning and he could not reach them. He could not believe his eyes when they had simply held hands and walked out into the ocean, singing and chanting, to meet what they knew would be their deaths. How brave they were or, on the other paw, how stupid they were!
Wolf had never believed in anything enough that he wanted to die for it until he had met Jack. Now he knew he was willing to die for his family yet he still did not have a cause to which he would give his life. Jack had saved him on numerous occasions from the hangman's noose, and he owed him big time but there was still nothing that he believed in to the point that he would die for it and yet, these women were walking out, almost cheerfully though tears streamed down several of their faces, to meet certain doom. Gods, women! he wanted to scream out in man's language but only a howl came out.
Where was Jack in all this madness? Wolf believed Jack could do anything, even stop this madness. He renewed his efforts to reach the women, only to be blocked by the Christians. The stench of hatred and prejudice that came off of them was enough to gag him. It was overpowering. He glanced around, trying to find a place to jump into the water, but the Christians were barring the water.
It was then that the men finally reached the confrontation. They attacked the Christians with everything they were carrying -- axes, swords, daggers, claws. Some, like Xena, Gabrielle, Wolverine, and Cole Turner, were flurries of action that nothing seemed able to hold back while others, like Joxer, who was far more apt in the kitchen than on the battlefield, and Carl, whose shortness was constantly pitted against him, determinedly continued their struggles against the mob, no matter how many times they were knocked flat of their backside. The Lewis sisters and their husbands fought side by side in a blinding daze of silver blades, fur, and hair. Even those few among their number who might have attempted to find another solution before fighting, and moreover killing, did not hesitate to do their fullest in the fray for they had all felt the sting of prejudice at some time or another in their lives.
Their fighting gave Wolf enough of a chance to jump into the ocean. The first person he encountered was definitely dead. She lay floating with her eyes open skyward. The fear and grief in her eyes had been dulled by death, but a peaceful smile remained on her cold lips. It gave him the willies. He knew there'd be a lot more dead this day. He heard a yell and barely managed to swim out of the way just as a Christian was thrown in, blood spattering everywhere. Bile rose in his throat and he almost lost it, but his nose caught a scent of something barely breathing yet still alive.
Wolf started to swim toward the scent but had to take a quick detour as two huge forms fell into the water on either side of him. Upon glancing to the newcomers, surprise flickered in his dark eyes, but as soon as he saw the giant octopuses beginning to reach for women with their eight arms and caught their scents, he realized that they were only the shapeshifters, Morph and Tom. Immediately returning his attention to the scent of the live woman, Wolf continued toward her.
Reaching her, Wolf got a good grip on her hair. Her clothes were so heavy that they were pulling the body down, and he fought valiantly to pull the raven-haired wench from the water. Pushing her to shore, his eyes looked pleadingly for help. He was not surprised to see that there was only a handful of Christians left, and even as he watched, they were picked up, throats slit, and thrown into the water. A pair of strong arms reached down and took the woman out of the water. He did not let go until he could feel her being pulled. She was carried over to a grassy area and laid down. Gabrielle stood waiting at the designated spot, and as soon as Wolf saw the surgeon bend down to care for his rescuee and heard her calling commands to Joxer and Autolycus who had joined her in helping to care for those few who were snatched from the water while they still lived, he returned to his own rescue efforts.
Upon reaching the water's edge, Carl had gotten off the huge dog and was running back and forth, trying to braven himself enough to jump in and try to save one of the lovely women. He was scared of the water and could do nothing but whimper and run up and down. He noticed that the dog was gone and looked up and around for his companion, noticing that he had gone over to where a raven-haired woman dressed in black was laying on the ground.
Carl finally spied what he was looking for. It was a pole with a hook on it. He knew if he got in the water, his butt would be gone for it would either suck him down or carry him out to sea. He looked around for a buxom wench to rescue and finally spied some one with red hair. He snaked the pole out and caught the clothes, pulling the woman to him. Carl thought she was the prettiest fish he'd ever seen.
A couple of the guys reached down and pulled her out of the water. "Good going, little guy," one of them said and reached down and patted Carl on the head. Carl growled. He hated to be treated like a pet of some kind. He immediately began looking for another woman to rescue.
He spied another one and snaked the pole quickly out to snag her and pulled her up close only to find out that she was dead. The pirates who had quickly gotten rid of the Christians were now just as quickly pulling the women out of the water. Two of them, Lex and Clark, stayed close by Carl and pulled out everything that he snaked up. Unfortunately, the redhead had been the only one alive thus far, and all the rest that were dead they had laid a little ways away from them, grouping them together. It was a gut-wrenching, heart-sickening affair for all involved.
Then Carl snagged one with black hair. He pulled her up and breathed a sigh of relief. She was alive. Even as Clark gathered the woman into his arms and ran her over to Gabrielle, Carl glanced around but did not see any other bodies floating nearby. He did, however, see Cole trying to get to shore with a woman. Carl waited in case he could help.
Cole had arrived and jumped straight into the ocean, hoping to rescue a fair damsel, but every woman he came into contact with save one was already dead and he didn't spend any time getting their bodies out of the water. Cole was only in it for the live ones, although he would help later after they got the last live ones out and removed the dead women from the water. No one should have had to have died in this manner, but he knew it happened far too often. He felt powerless to do anything about it.
It was then that he spied another woman and swam over to her. He sniffed her. She was breathing but just barely. His heart stirred at the sight of her, but he didn't know why. She reminded him of some one. He put his arm around her and began to swim with his other arm toward the shore. She had been further out than the others, and her clothes were very heavy. They almost pulled Cole down. He was relieved to see Carl snaking his pole out, and he grabbed it with his hand and was pulled rapidly toward the shore where he and the woman were pulled out.
The woman was carried away toward the area where the live women had been taken, and Cole lay on his back, breathing heavily, looking at the sky. For such a miserable day of sadness and sorrow, he could not believe that the sky was beautiful, not a rain cloud in sight, no one to cry for the dead. He wondered about the woman and hoped that she had not lost any loved ones in this mess. He had lost both a mother and a sister to Christians, and he hated them with a bloody passion.
He closed his eyes and thanked the Gods and Goddesses that he had been in time and saved two women. He remembered back to another little, petite woman he had hauled out when he had first got there. The first woman he had rescued had made him think of his sister. She was small and had long, black hair to her waist. He figured her eyes were probably blue. He shook himself mentally, got up, and went to find out how the women were doing.
Wolverine had been amongst some of the first to reach the confrontation area and had grabbed three Christians at once, banging their heads together and then tossing them into the water to drown. He set about on a rampage, killing Christians with the greatest of glee, until there were no more for him. Then he began to jump into the water, bringing women out. He did not look to see if they were living or dead. He just brought them out, dropped them on the ground, and let some one else deal with them. When he found a Christian, he wrinkled his nose and pushed them away.
He soon lost track of how many women he had brought up out of the water. Glancing around, he did not see any more women and saw that the other men had gotten out of the water, so he figured the attempt was over. All he saw bobbing up and down was Christian bodies that he was going to leave to rot for the buzzards.
Something white fluttered in the slight breeze that had suddenly kicked up, and it seemed to be attached to a floating log. He swam quickly over and saw that it was a woman, a woman of such beauty that it simply blew him away. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. If this beauty was dead, there was going to be a Hell of a lot more pain going on! He managed to get her to the water's edge, and when others would have reached out to help him, he growled. No one would get to help her but him! This one was personal!
He lay her on the ground, rolled her on her back, and began to mash her stomach, gently at first. Water spewed out of her mouth, and she started coughing. This one was his! If any one got near her, they'd pay for it. He continued to work on her, making sure that the water got out of her throat and mouth. He turned her head sideways so that it could come out more easily. When no more water seemed to be forthcoming, he sat and looked at her, hoping she'd breathe clearly and not gaggingly, but she didn't seem to be responding other than spitting the water out.
He positioned himself over her and began to breathe into her mouth, holding her nose closed while he did so. He took several deep breaths and blew them into her mouth again. He did not know how long he was doing this. He was so frustrated that he screamed out his rage and hit the ground beside her with his clenched fist. She was going to die on him, and there was nothing he could do! He picked her up, dragging her into his arms, not realizing that he was crying. Several tears ran down his face and landed on hers. It was then he felt her begin to breathe. "Thank the Goddess!" He prayed she'd live.
To Be Continued . . .
