Disclaimer: Not mine. Any and all characters belong to TPTB
'Once upon a time there was a warrior. He was haunted at night in his dreams by the man who'd taken his innocence. Only now, he was being haunted by other ghosts - the ghosts of his friends.'
He sat on the log, taking in the beauty of the countryside under the setting sun. It was so peaceful there. No wars, or killing. Here, he could react to the natural course of nature. Here, the only time he fought was in the practice sessions that Ephiny had ordered him to start taking.
"I've ordered Cyane to prepare Morpheus for you at daybreak."
"You don't have to do that." He scooted over so she could sit down, "You've already done too much for me."
Ephiny lightly glared over at him as she settled next to him. "What makes you think I'm doing this for you? Xena and Gabrielle are a part of this tribe too."
"I'll bring him back as soon as I can," he answered. The queen was almost as stubborn as Gabrielle, but far more tolerant. He would miss that while he was gone.
Ephiny eyed him then reached around her neck and removed her choker. "I want you to have this."
"I can't acc..."
"You dare to insult me?" She asked. She softened her fierce gaze and carefully fastened it around his neck. "You're a good man Joxer, and one day you will find the peace you're searching for."
"I . . . Thank you."
"You'll always have a place here." Ephiny studied the man next to her. She was going to miss him, but right now there were two women out there who needed him. "Come on, the party is going to be starting soon."
"Ephiny..." He swallowed nervously as his earlier doubts returned. "What if I can't save them? What if . ..?"
"You will." Ephiny defiantly glared at him. "I know you will."
Two Weeks Later
He dug his heels into the horse beneath him, pushing the large gray horse faster. Morpheus sped up with still no sign of exhaustion. For the last two weeks it had been a constant game of tag. It seemed like he was always just behind his friends. He'd missed their ship by less than an hour, missed them docking by a day. From then on he'd simply raced towards the camp he knew was there.
Morpheus slowed to a quiet trot and nodded his head at the approaching hill. He tightened his leather-gloved hand around the thick Amazon staff as he recognized it from his dream. He settled back into the saddle as they took the final steps over the rise. Standing there, staring down at the camp was a middle-aged man with waist long hair and a beard. A young, teenage girl stood beside him. The man looked up at him, clearly recognizing him.
Joxer ignored the man, and glanced down at the camp. There were sounds of soldiers behind the gate, and sentries were patrolling the grounds. Two crosses stood in the ground, with two bodies nailed to them. Women. He closed his eyes against the scene he already knew so well from his dreams.
"There's nothing we could do."
His eyes snapped open with the echo of Eli's voice. He'd heard that same sentence every night for the last three weeks. He wanted to yell at him, to tell him that there was something, but it was his responsibility, not theirs.
'Trust your heart, and it will lead you down the right path.' It was the last thing Otrere had said to him.
His heart . . . It was filled with rage, with blame, and undying loyalty.
He slammed his heels violently into Morpheus' sides and galloped on down the path, his eyes silently mapping the camp. There was a wagon sitting unprotected, filled with cloth. A path led from the camp and up the embankment to . . . a stone building of some sort.
Morpheus stopped next to the building, snorting his approval ever so softly. Joxer slid to the ground and searched for any sign of life, the way Cyane had taught him. In the snow he could see fading tracks of a deer, but nothing human. He carefully approached the door and glanced inside. There were several slabs of marble and a few bags of food, but nothing else. Perfect.
"What do you think you're doing? And where did you get this?"
Joxer stared blankly at the young girl as she grabbed the leather choker that Ephiny had given him. Her face was contorted in anger and irritation. He felt her grip tighten on the necklace, and he instinctively clasped her wrist.
"It was a gift." He pressed his thumb into the pressure point of her wrist until she let go and stepped back. "Now, either help me get them down, or back off."
Amarice narrowed her eyes, "No Amazon would give that to a man. You stole it . . ."
Joxer stiffened. He was a lot of things, but he was not a thief, and he would never show so little respect to Ephiny - not after everything she had done for him. His jaw twitched as he brushed past the young Amazon. Today, he would let her ignorance pass. Today, the only thing that mattered was his friends.
"Joxer..." Eli's soft voice made him pause. He couldn't help it; there was something about this man that made you want to listen. "I understand what you're feeling, but getting yourself killed . . ."
"I'm taking their bodies back to Greece. They deserve to be buried with their families." He gripped Morpheus' saddle and stared at the light sword that Ephiny had packed despite his protests. He had no intentions of using it. Not now, not ever again.
"Is it worth you getting killed?"
Joxer gave Eli a sideways glance and started down the path, Morpheus' reins in his hand. "Yes."
Eli smiled sadly. He could see what Xena had been talking about when she spoke of the wannabe warrior - the spirit of a puppy coupled with the heart of a lion.
"He's crazy! The minute he tries to take their bodies down, they'll be all over him."
"Probably."
Eli started down the hill, and Amarice gaped, "They're crazy . . ." She then glanced from the two men to the two women that she'd been traveling with for the last month, and sighed. "This is crazy . . ."
He cradled her body close to his chest, feeling the icy cold through his deerskin shirt. A single tear ran down his left cheek and splashed onto her forehead. He gently caressed her cheek and brushed back the wild blonde hair.
"It's time to wake up now . . ," his voice cracked painfully. ". . . but you're not going to, are you? Not this time." He kissed her forehead, imagining that the frigid skin was once again soft and warm.
"Joxer, we've got to go. Now."
He tenderly lifted the body, laying her next to Xena on Morpheus' back. In front of him Amarice went into a battle stance facing the two soldiers that were quickly approaching. He picked up his staff and placed its end into the ground like a walking stick. There had been enough fighting.
"Amarice, take Eli up to the path. I'll be there in a minute." The young Amazon glared at him with no move to obey him. "Amarice . . ."
"Fine," she snapped, starting for the path with Eli.
He glanced over at the soldiers. They were teenagers, if barely that. They were shaking slightly, in fear he imagined - fear either of him, or at the idea of failure. They came to a stop right in front of him with their swords drawn. Neither of them looked like they wanted to fight him.
Probably blood innocents, too. He sighed tiredly and glanced back at the saddle. The sword was just barely in view under the fur blanket. Dismissing that idea before he could even think of it, he turned his attention back to the two men.
". . . bodies back."
"They're my family. I only want to take them home to be buried," he said quietly.
"Our orders . . ."
Joxer studied the man who was speaking. "Sometimes the very men that give your orders are the very men that shouldn't be in power. Sometimes even the kindest of leaders let their own fears and prejudice get in the way of their job."
"Our orders . . ."
"I know," he whispered, "but they're all I have. Caesar's already robbed me of the only family I've ever known - please don't let him take their deaths from me, too." He clenched his fist around his staff, "I . . . don't want a fight. Not because I can't, but because I've seen enough blood in my life . . . I'm asking you as one human being to another, to just let me pass."
He turned away from them, baring his back to their swords, and took Morpheus' reins. Keeping his eyes on Eli, who was standing near the building, he slowly began the walk to him. The older man smiled at him and nodded. Maybe it was his approval or maybe it was simply to let him know that it had worked. Whatever reason, it settled the pounding of his heart.
"Isn't there anything you can do?"
"No. My powers don't work that way."
Joxer clenched his jaw as he stared down at the two bodies of his friends. Unable to take it anymore he walked out of the building, his feet taking him to the edge of the hill that looked out over the camp. The soldiers were now screaming and running around in a panic, probably trying to figure out what happened to Xena and Gabrielle.
He'd failed them. He'd failed Ephiny. He'd failed Otrere. He'd failed Eli. He'd failed Greece. And now . .. . now he'd go back to the village and tell his friend that they were dead - dead because instead of leaving immediately, he'd waited. He'd waited, and he'd attended a party. He was a failure.
"If you didn't steal it, then who gave it to you?" demanded Amarice.
"A friend." He stared coldly down at the camp, and at the wagon that was still sitting there. Old, dry cloth, it would probably burn as well as wood, if not better.
"What friend?"
Joxer ignored her. 'Fire. Cloth . . . Cloth. Fire . .. .' He glanced over at the gates. All of the soldiers were out of sight. It would only take a moment. Just one spark and a quick push.
"I said, what friend?"
Joxer brushed past her and started back for the shed.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!"
He twirled his staff once as Amarice struggled to keep up with him. He was not in the mood for her. Couldn't she see that he was grieving, and that there were more important things in life besides necklaces? He entered the shed searching for Eli and paused . . .
"Gabby . . ," he whispered.
The pixie-haired angel stared at him with . . . what? Joy? Acceptance? Life? He didn't care if it was anger; she was sitting there, alive! He stepped up to the marble slabs, looking back and forth from Gabrielle to Xena and back again before wrapping his arms around his love.
"Thank the gods . . ."