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Chapter 4a of 4.
'The Road to Pergamum'
The road leading from the coast up into the mountains of Mysia was not paved like a Roman thoroughfare, but just levelled and cleared with a bare earth surface. Nonetheless it served its purpose; giving an easily usable route to the capital, some distance inland. The lie of the land was mostly scrub bushes with light patches of grass and thorns as the foothills rose towards the mountains. There were some groups of trees, light oaks, ash, and sycamore; and every now and then a respectable wood or two, which looked as if they might, at some close juncture, develop into an actual deep forest. It could be seen that the flanks of the rolling mountains further inland were heavily tree-covered.
The open nature of the land so far gave a fairly wide view in all directions, and it was this aspect of the terrain that Gabrielle was taking full advantage of. She was lying on a handy flat outcrop of bedrock beside the trail. She lay at full length, shading her eyes with both hands to her forehead, and looking back the way they had come; there being quite an extensive view in that direction.
"Whad'ya see?"
Xena stood beside the reclining figure, casually running a small flat stone along the edge of her sword which she held in her right hand. This, as usual, gave the few other travellers and pedestrians on the road second thoughts about either stopping to pass the time of day or attempting something more threatening.
"Nothing." Gabrielle squirmed uncomfortably. "Damn, this rock's hard. I can see a smidgin over two parasangs back towards the coast. An' all I can see is scrub and olive trees, lightly interspersed with handfuls of travellers. Some walking, some in wagons, some lone horse-riders. But nothing like Tros's force of warriors."
"Well, that can't be bad." The Princess mused awhile; pausing to give a young man, who was staring at the recumbent Amazon as he passed by, an evil stare that made him turn pale and pick up his pace considerably. "Means he must be more than half a morning's trek behind, maybe more."
"Ain't Tros a sailor?" Autolycus was holding the reins of his nag and staring gloomily in the direction they had come. "I mean, would he leave his trireme an' slog up into the mountains after us?"
"He's a warrior, a fighter; and a good one, too." Xena shook her head. "He'll be after us, have no fear of that. Somewhere back there, he's biding his time. Maybe waiting for nightfall."
Gabrielle grunted and rose to her feet, brushing her skimpy clothing free of dust. There were, though, smudges on her abdomen and legs that stuck because of the sweat—it being a hot day and Gabrielle perspiring freely. They had been walking over the last couple of stadia or so, to give their rather scraggy steeds a rest. These horses had been bought in Dikili, a somewhat bedraggled town on the Mysian coast opposite Lesbos. The island-ferry, a small liburnian, had made port safely there under escort by a naval bireme. The place was obviously a third-rate dump compared to nearby Atarneus on its towering hill. Gabrielle had wanted to visit the larger magnificent city but Xena had pitilessly rejected the idea on grounds of time and doubt of Tros's whereabouts.* The beasts were neither first class in comfort, aptitude, staying power, or age; but they were the best of the pathetic bunch available. So, after swearing volubly and spitting in the dust at the man's feet who was holding out for a ridiculous price, Xena had finally given in and bought the decrepit animals. 'About as much chance of their taking us to Pergamum as Ares giving it all up for the quiet life and buying a farm in Boeotia', the disgusted warrior-woman grumbled as they began their journey. "We'll probably have'ta walk the last day or so'.
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It was now late in the afternoon and though the sun was still visible the coming evening was beginning to herald a certain advancing gloom: the three riders would have to think about making camp quite soon. Neither Xena nor Gabrielle were happy about stopping at the side of the main road, which was quite busy with numerous groups and bands of travellers; not to mention the many single wayfarers straggling out along the highway: Pergamum being a remarkably popular destination for a variety of people. Autolycus affected to agree, with the air of an old hand well versed in such things.
They had, therefore, left the well-trodden highway to strike along a rutted winding trail; one of many which joined the road thereabouts, that led up into the now quite thick forest which had suddenly swooped down on both hands from the foothills as the road penetrated further into the rolling mountains. It would give them some privacy and safety from casual travellers on the main road, as well as from Tros's forces, Xena had opined,—and who was Gabrielle to disagree! Autolycus grumbled about wet mossy ground under the trees, creepy-crawlies getting into his bedroll that evening, and the odds of a bear turning up in the small hours. The women ignored him, of course.
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The twisting tree-lined track, shaded mostly by high firs and conifers, was dusty and deeply rutted; leading, it seemed, into mysterious unknown regions of the forest. Far along its winding course, still out of sight of the tired women-warriors, lay the abandoned wreck of a small wagon.
It was the perfect place to dump such an obviously clapped-out vehicle, no longer any use for road-driving. One night long years ago someone had brought it on its last trip far along the bumpy shadowy depths of this un-used trail and there left it. One hopes they had some accompanying form of transport to take them comfortably home again!
Left to slowly decay amongst the weeds, ferns, and advancing undergrowth it was not long before the wilderness noticed the unwanted vehicle and began to take it unto itself. Now, where the noise of traffic on the main highway was only faintly perceptible in the far distance, the weeds were growing through the broken boards; all four wheels had long ago given up the ghost, leaning at crazy angles and green with algae and moss; the driver's seat had lost its cloth covering, exposing wholly rotten planks; and the wooden sides had ripped free, fallen off the frame, and taken on a slimy peeling appearance, leaving the vehicle's ribs like a skeleton. From any distance only these were in fact at all visible over the surrounding ferns and bushes. And never a traveller passed by to gaze in amazement at the pathetic wreck from one year's end to another. All it had now were a few more years of quiet decay then—extinction.
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They had come to a halt ten stadia or so into the forest where they discovered, to Gabrielle's amazement, the abandoned wagon lying lop-sided at the edge of the rough uneven lane between the thick dark trees. The track widened somewhat at this point, and a little stream flowed by the edge of the track. It seemed the perfect place to set up camp; there was certainly no chance of being disturbed by any legitimate visitor. Xena gave the wreck close attention while Gabrielle kicked some stones into a passable circle for a fire; though her heart was obviously still engaged with the possibility of being disturbed by Tros and his followers sometime in the night. Xena and Gabrielle's horses, along with the scrawny nag which bore Autolycus, were placed under the shelter of the overhanging branches of a tall strong fir nearby; where they began grazing contentedly. Autolycus, surprisingly, made himself useful taking blankets and assorted equipment from their individual saddle-bags. In a remarkably short time he had arranged these around the fledgling campfire in a respectable manner; making even Xena stop to give a word of praise.
"This is old hat to me, girls." The King of Thieves didn't hold back from coming forward in his own commendation. "Years of fleeing from over-anxious share-holders and angry warlords through a variety of forests has given me the capability of an Amazon in woodcraft. Don't worry, I'll see to everything."
"Hah!" The only true Amazon present made known her disapproval.
In return Autolycus merely gave that trademark so-annoying grin, which said as much as here was a man of derring-do and swashbuckling bravura ready for every eventuality; then he hoisted a bundle of blankets and made for the warmest corner by the fire, under the shade of an over-hanging fir bough. The women groaned under their breath, as Gabrielle wondered when the opportunity would arrive to let her tell Xena that it was true—three was always one too many!
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Xena pointed over to the decrepit remains of the old wagon when Gabrielle said she was going to search for firewood in the nearby environs of the forest.
"Nah, don't bother. I'll rip some planks off this thing. Way past its drivin' days, obviously." Xena took a long-bladed dagger from her waist-belt as she headed across to the wreck. "Hope it's held together by wooden pegs, an' not rusty nails."
Soon a warm fire was burning, casting wavering shadows under the encroaching trees on either side. It was a clear night so there was no chance of being soaked with rain, though it would probably become quite cold later.
"Ah! This is the life." Autolycus relaxed comfortably, boots close to the low flames. "Toasting your tootsies at a warm fire, with your belly full of roasted rabbit. Good thing you shot that critter earlier, Gabrielle. Gettin' quite good with a bow, ain't cha? Mmm, Elysium."
"Lie down an' get some beauty sleep, Auto." Gabrielle rolled her eyes disdainfully. "The Gods know, y'need it."
"Hey, that's kinda personal!" The K. of T.'s muttered irritably as he nevertheless took the wise advice, stretching his long form out under a thick blanket. "Nighty night,—don't let the bed-bugs bite."
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The night was well advanced past midnight, though not altogether pitch-black. A low three-quarter Moon cast a feeble light over the rolling trees of the forest, while countless stars shone overhead as brilliant points in an endless dark canopy. Xena had risen quietly, though her movements quickly alerted the Amazon lying beside her. As Autolycus showed no sign of returning from the Land of Dreams anytime soon—he was snoring, if not loudly, yet with innocent determination—both women slipped away without disturbing him.
Picking a way carefully in the deceitful shadows the pair made their way back down the winding track for some considerable distance. The somewhat rutted lane meandered far too much to be able to get a clear line of sight for more than a few hundred yards, but it was an uphill track, on the rising flank of one of the foothills. So, after a little stumbling, Xena grabbed Gabrielle's shoulder bringing her to a halt where they could look out across the trees and ground below them. This gave a partial view of a good part of the main road stretching out over the uneven terrain back towards the coast, and something there immediately caught both women's attention.
"Lights, lots of them. All strung out in a line along the road." Gabrielle shaded her eyes with a hand on her brow and gazed intently. "Torches, maybe forty—fifty. Gods, he don't do things by half does he. How far, d'you think?"
"I'd say maybe one and a half parasangs." Xena nodded slowly. "About two hours, tops."
"Will he find where we cut off the road to take this lane, Xena?"
"Definitely." Xena glanced at Gabrielle, who was standing beside her tightly gripping the tall warrior's right wrist. "Our three horses must'a made enough sign in the dust an' soft earth down by the road to alert a ten year old girl, never mind Tros."
"So, he's gonna come t'get us?" The Amazon showed no hint of fear in her voice, rather a steely determination.
"Oh, he'll come right enough." Xena snarled like a tiger. "But he won't get us!"
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Notes:—
1. Dikili and Atarneus were real ancient cities. Their ruins are still extant.
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