Chapter III
Xena left before sunrise. She managed to get dressed in her leathers and armor without waking a snoring Gabrielle or Amyntas who had awoken Xena a couple of times during the night. Gabrielle had graciously tended the baby each time he cried. She knew that Xena wanted to leave for Amphipolis at daybreak. When Xena had left, her companion was sleeping with the baby tucked securely in the crook of her left arm. Xena had made a mental note to do something nice for Gabrielle in the near future.
There was a chill in the spring morning air. Xena endured the cold for a half an hour before deciding that she should pull her heavy cloak from her pack. Clouds to the west promised rain before nightfall. She was certain she would make Amphipolis before the rain hit. Xena hoped the roof was still patched at the farmhouse but she couldn't worry about that now, she had to see how badly her home village had been affected by the plague.
Her breakfast, which she ate on horseback, consisted of dried meat and stale bread. She also enjoyed a fresh apple which she gladly shared with Argo. About half way between the farmhouse and Amphipolis, she passed a field of wild sunflowers. She stopped and harvested some seeds and leaves. The seeds she could snack on and the leaves could be used to make a fever-reducing tea. As she filled her bags she thought of the story of Clytie that Gabrielle had told her. Clytie was in love with the god Apollo but he didn't return her love, in fact he barely acknowledged her existence. Clytie spent her days staring lovingly into the sun. The gods took pity on her and turned her into a sunflower. From that time own, sunflowers have always faced the sun. Xena paused a moment to study the drooping plants. The clouds were blocking out their beloved sun. They slumped dejectedly as if being cut off from their god took all the life out of them, sapped their souls. Xena understood the feeling all too well. "I'm sorry, Clytie" Xena murmured to the flowers as she hacked at their limbs.
A distant thunder rumbled across the mid-morning sky just as Xena reached the top of the hill that overlooked Amphipolis. The first thing she noticed was that none of the fields had been planted. That was bad news because if there were any survivors they were going to have a tough year without any stores put back for the winter. The villagers would not have neglected so basic a necessity if things weren't really bad. Xena urged Argo into a gallop. As she came closer to the buildings she noticed that red Xs had been painted on many of the roofs. She counted only three buildings that had been spared the mark of the plague. One had been the grainery when she had lived there, one the home of the blacksmith, and the last was the decaying remains of the temple to Ares. The temple her father had help build and her military campaigns had helped maintain. Being made of stone it was still the sturdiest structure in all of Amphipolis even with the gaping hole in its side. Xena spotted the new tavern that her brother had built on the spot of Cyrene's old place. It too had the dreaded X blazoned atop it.
"Yi, Girl," Xena pressed Argo to run even harder.
When they reached the edge of the village, Xena pulled Argo to a stop, took off her packs and saddle and told Argo to stay in the fields surrounding the village. She didn't want to put her in any unnecessary danger. Plus, she didn't want to have to fight off any starving villagers who might want to make a meal out of her mare. She kissed her on her nose and patted her backside before turning to walk the last couple of hundred meters into Amphipolis.
She went first to the house where the old blacksmith had lived. She knocked firmly on the door. She waited a few beats and then knocked again, harder. The last knock jarred the door open. The stench was grotesque. Xena slowly pushed it the rest of way and called out, "Anyone home? Can you hear me?"
She heard a faint moaning. She grabbed a scarf from her pack and wrapped it around her mouth. She left her other belongings at the door and proceeded into the house toward the groaning. She found an oil lamp and reached into her pouch for her flint stone only to remember that she had given in to Iason the previous evening. The house was damp and dimly lit. Xena thought it was a perfect place for sickness to fester. She had to get whoever was in here out, pronto.
The moaning became louder and Xena could make out a bed in the far corner of the room. A wispy hand reached out to her and then collapsed onto the floor, it's energy spent. The emaciated figure to which the hand belonged attempted speak, "Go, plague, death," it managed to huff out.
"I know," Xena answered, "now I'm getting you out of here."
"Too late," the poor soul tried to protest. It was then that Xena noticed the two other bodies in the bed. She felt both for signs of life. For them it was indeed too late.
The living body had lost much of it's vigor, to the point that Xena could not even tell if the person was male or female. And from the look of the black pustules that had sprouted on the figure's neck, Xena surmised that death was probably certain but she would do everything in her power to help the miserable wretch.
She tied the scarf tighter around her face, took a deep breath and hoisted the body up. She remembered in cases of serious illness or plague that the village often used the shrine of Artemis as the hospital. Xena didn't pass another living being as she walked her patient across town to the shrine.
She was relieved to smell the aroma of cooking meat and see smoke rising from the chimney of the spacious temple. A single man stood guard at the door. Xena guessed him to be in his thirties. He had short-cropped black hair.
"Who goes there?" The man was wary of the dark stranger with an obviously plague-ridden companion.
"Name's Xena, I found this person in your village, in the old blacksmith's house." The scarf muffled her speech but Xena didn't dare remove it for fear of contamination.
"Tydus, is that you?"
The figure tried to lift it's head.
The guard hurried down the step of the shrine to assist Xena with the infirmed body.
"Lysa," the guard gasped. "where's Tydus?"
"Dead," was all that Lysa could manage to mutter.
"This is Lysa," the guard informed Xena, "she's Tydus's wife, he's the town's blacksmith, their son, Alexus is his apprentice."
"Was," Lysa wailed and went limp.
Xena felt her wrist, "she's still alive but if we don't start treating her, she won't be for long."
"Right," the guard took Lysa from Xena, "I'm Kantar, I've already been through the worst of it. I shouldn't get infected again. You may not want to go in there."
"I'll be careful," Xena reassured. "I've brought some things that might be useful. I can start a tea that will help manage the fevers so that people can heal better."
"Good, good. I'll take you to Marta she's our best healer now that Draven has passed."
"Thank you, Kantar. How many are here at the shrine?"
"Seven, in various stages of the disease. Marta thinks that it is only contagious in the earliest stages, before the pustules appear. The hardest part of the sickness hits after that too."
"I see."
"Here she is. Marta," he called for Marta to come their way as he found an empty cot on which to place Lysa.
"Kantar, how bad?" She asked about the patient. She was all business, tall and graceful Xena could tell she was a forced to be reckoned with even in her advanced years. Her long white hair was bound in a single braid that ran the length of her back. She hardly even acknowledge that Xena was standing there.
"At least stage three," he answered, "maybe beyond that. This woman has brought some things, some herbs that may help," he added.
"Wonderful," Marta answered after she assessed Lysa. She turned to Xena, "do you have healing skills? We can use all the help we can get." The woman eyed Xena. There was something familiar about her presence. She couldn't put her finger on it.
"I do have some experience," Xena answered behind the cloth.
Marta couldn't see much of the woman's face behind the wrap but she had seen those eyes before. That was a blue you just didn't forget.
"I'm Xena," the warrior extended her hand.
"Xena, the Warrior Princess?"
"Some call me that," Xena desperately hoped that she had not wronged this woman in the past.
"Your brother often did," Marta smiled but there was no happiness in her eyes only loss and grief. It was then that Xena knew that Toris was dead.
After Marta explained that the healthy had not had the time to bury the dead for trying to help the ill, Xena excused herself and went immediately to the tavern her brother had built. He had used the same layout that had his grandfather had used when he erected the original. I didn't take Xena long to find him. She went to where she knew the master bedroom would be. He was covered in black pustules. Some had burst leaving a powdery substance on his skin. Xena hoped Marta's assessment of the disease's contagiousness were accurate because she took off the scarf, set on the edge of the bed, held her brother's hand and wept.
Lightning streaked furiously across the sky, rain came down in sheets, muddying the streets of Amphipolis as Xena carried her brother's body to the family tomb. She didn't have a proper sarcophagus so she enshrouded his body with the sheets from his bedding promising herself that she would build him a pine box as soon as the weather cleared. She would eventually buy him something more appropriate.
While saying her goodbyes to Toris, it occurred to her that his grandchildren were orphaned yet again. What would happen to them? She couldn't just leave them in the arms of a stranger. As kind and capable as Marta seemed, she wasn't family. She didn't know them anymore than Xena did. She'd think about it later. Right now she had to see what she could do to help Marta and Kantar.
Her boots were covered in sludge by the time she made it back to the shrine. She took them off at the entryway.
"It's really coming down, huh?" Kantar stated the obvious.
Xena shook her hair out and retrieved the cloth from the bag to wrap around her face.
"How's Lysa?" Xena asked.
"Still unconscious, it's an uphill battle for her. I've never seen anybody that far gone make a recovery."
Xena appreciated his honesty but she wasn't about to give up on the woman.
Xena found Marta tending to a boy who looked to be about twelve or thirteen. Xena guessed he was old enough to have started a trade.
"There's some broth on the fire and some tea. Wine is in short supply but if you're cold from being in that weather, help yourself."
"Tea'll be fine. The broth will warm me, I'm sure." Xena answered and grabbed a bowl and ladled some soup.
"Who's she?" the boy asked curious about the beautiful new stranger.
"This is Xena, Mikal, she's Toris's sister," Marta felt his brow.
"The Xena, that Xena, you mean the Warrior Princess!" He bolted upright on the bed.
"I thought you were feeling better but lie back down, I'm not finished examining you."
He reluctantly complied but his eyes never left the woman warrior who slurped loudly at the lamb stew.
"Did you really kill the gods?" He asked as Marta checked for any remaining pustules.
"Some of them," Xena admitted but he could tell she regretted it.
"Which ones? Who was the hardest to kill?" He was clearly enthusiastic about the idea that a mere mortal could slay a god.
"It wasn't my finest moment, uh what' was your name, again?"
"Mikal," he answered.
"Mikal, I only did what I had to do because they threatened my family."
"Oh, hey you and me, we're kinda like family."
"Yeah, and how's that?" Xena asked amused by the boy's enthusiasm.
"Mikal was Toris's apprentice. Toris never had any sons of his own and he married his only daughter to a man in a village a couple of days journey from here. So, when Mikal's mother passed three years ago, Toris took him in and made him his apprentice. The inn will be his if he chooses to stay here and rebuild it. "
"You bet I will," he answered.
Xena wondered where the boy's father was but thought it was too personal of a question to ask.
"Okay, you look fine, only a few scars from the pus pockets and no fever. I think you are out of the woods, Mikal. I don't want you leaving the shrine yet, though, okay?" Marta clearly held motherly feelings toward the boy. Xena was glad that her brother had found such a woman. And even though they had been too old to have children by the time they found each other, they had found a happiness with Mikal.
Xena finished the broth with a gulp. She belched and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. Marta smiled at her. Xena's indelicate nature reminded her of Toris's.
"So, where do you need me?" Xena asked.
"Those leaves you brought, they are excellent fever reducers, I've had them steeping for the last half hour. We should try to get Lysa to drink some, if we can get her to come to. She's burning up."
"I'll see what I can do."
Two days later, Lysa was still breathing but they lost two others. Over forty souls had been claimed by the plague. Marta, Kantar, Mikal, Lysa, an old seamstress name Karina, Estor the baker, and two children Dalin, and Cyrena were all that was left of Amphipolis. Karina prayed continuously to Artemis to heal their sick bodies. Xena didn't have the heart to tell her that Artemis could no longer hear any of her prayers. Mikal didn't ask Xena directly if Artemis had been one of the gods she had killed but he glanced at her every time Karina invoked the goddess' help.
Mikal offered to help Xena build a wooden sarcophagus for Toris's body. He told her that Toris had some planks left over from when he had built the tavern and that he thought they could work them into a suitable box. He also found some paints. It took them the better part of four hours but when they finished, Xena thought it was a suitable coffin until she could afford a stone one.
After they finished in the tomb, Xena and Mikal went to work cleaning up the tavern. The survivors were going to have to rebuild and if they were going to attract any new residents the town would have to have a tavern, a place for traders and visitors to stay. Xena could see just how much of a family that Toris, Marta and Mikal had become. The living quarters to the tavern were very cozy. Xena suddenly got the urge to settle down. She hadn't realized that she had even wanted a family life until she saw the evidence of her brother's happiness all around her. She decided that she would ask Gabrielle what she thought of settling down on the farm. They could raise the children there. They were her responsibility now. She wouldn't abandon them. And, she wouldn't abandon Amphipolis. By staying on the farm, she would be nearby if they needed her help. It was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned.
Mikal brought a new wine cask from the store room. "You want some?"
"Don't you think they need that over at the shrine more than we do here," she reprimanded gently.
"We have several more in here, I was just going to take one over there right now and see if Marta needs us for anything else right now."
"Sorry," Xena said peevishly, "you're more grown up than I give you credit for."
"It's okay, everybody makes that mistake," he said and handed her a goblet.
She turned the goblet over in her hand and examined it. She knew this design, where had she seen it? She closed her eyes and could see Ares drinking the wine she had left for him. A sign that she was ready to seal their deal when she and Athena were battling for Amphipolis. He had tossed the goblet haphazardly before removing his belt.
"Where did you get this, Mikal?"
"From that cupboard," he pointed to the largest cabinet behind the bar.
"No, I mean where did it come from before that?"
"Oh, yeah, that's one that I brought home from the temple."
"The temple of Ares?"
"Yeah, me and some of the guys used to hang out there. We had a gang, you know thought we were real tough seven year olds, that was before my mom died. My dad went off to war when I was just a baby, I used to go there thinking that if I prayed real hard to Ares that he would let my daddy come home."
"Me too," Xena whispered.
"There's some pretty cool stuff over there but nobody's really supposed to go in there. The magistrates forbid it. They say it could collapse the rest of the way at any minute but it's been like that ever since I can remember."
"You gonna take that wine to Marta?" Xena reminded him. Xena felt a little guilty about sending the boy off but she decided she was going to go check out the temple herself.
"Yeah, you want me to bring you some stew?"
"Nah, I'll be over there in a bit. I wanna make sure Marta doesn't need anything before else before I head out in the morning. I think everyone but Lysa is out of the woods and she seems a lot stronger today than she did yesterday."
"Okay, see you in a bit," he hoisted the wine barrel on his muscular shoulders and was off.
Xena took an oil lamp with her to the temple. It was a sunny day but she knew the interior could be pretty dark in places. She entered through the front door. The lock on it had been no match for a strike from her chakram. She grabbed one of the torches that hung at the entryway and lit it with the oil lamp. Her boots sounded loud in the stone corridor, echoing louder than she remembered, probably because most of the place was empty. She entered the throne room. The couch was still where she remembered it. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as the memory of them came rushing in. Why did she do this to herself? She shouldn't have come here. She could feel him all around her. She walked over to the sofa and ran a fingertip across the velvet softness. It reminded her of his silkyy god hair and the gentle caress of his beard. A jolt of pleasure ripped through her core She had to get out of there.
Ares felt a tingle when she entered his temple. He was playing a game of chess with Hermes on Olympus when he felt her. He had been doing his best not to interfere in her life. He had quit watching her, quit purposefully putting warlords in her path. He had seen the look of anger and frustration when he had brought her back from Jappa. He had honestly thought she would be greatful. He didn't realize that she would feel like he had made her sacrifice pointless. So, he had kept his distance but if she was seeking him out then all was fair in love and war.
"Sorry Hermes, gotta run!"
"Xena?" Hermes arched an eyebrow in disapproval.
Ares just smiled and disappeared in shards of light.
When he rematerialized in his Amphipolis temple, she was nowhere in sight but he could still feel her presence, still smell her scent. She had definitely been here. He found the torch snuffed out at the base of his throne. He put it back in its holder and wondered what she was up to. He debated going to her but decided if she had wanted to see him she would have stayed. He reached out with his feelings. She had gone to the temple of Artemis. That's where all the sick people were. He knew that Amphipolis had been hit by plague. Hestia had made him pick up some of the slack down in Hades. There was quite a backlog. He had processed Toris himself. He wanted to tell Xena that he had sent her brother to be with Lyceus and Cyrene in the Elysian Fields but he knew she'd find out soon enough. And, he doubted she wanted to find out from him. The sick house! Why did she have to be so damned selfless?
He disappeared from his temple in frustration and reappeared on Olympus just in time for Hermes to call, "Check Mate!"