Chapter 27: White Devil: Part I
Gabrielle found herself busier than ever, signing alliance documents with Augusta Sophia and Gohar. Fortunately, the documents for Gohar were easy, but an alliance with the Byzantines required her to slave over candlelight for days. After all the documents were finalized and signed, Augusta Sophia was escorted to the Danube River by Farah.
Farah, being optimistic, hoped her punishment would be over by the time Sophia went on her way back to Constantinople. She had yet to talk to Arielle about it. But this had gone on long enough, and she felt her punishment was fair. She also initiated an alliance with a well-known enemy of the Huns. That ought to soften Arielle's stance, she reasoned.
In the meantime, Gabrielle walked Gohar over to the neighboring Adame. There was word that Farah brought back the slave girl who once belonged to the Barsils clan. Gohar was elated to find out a member of her clan was nearby. Had she known sooner, she would've introduced herself.
Gohar eyed the large wooden palace, which was more innate than the Khagana's. The staircase was not as grand, but there were more roof peaks, several large balconies with banners draped over the railings.
She casually struck conversation with Gabrielle, "Life here moves a lot quicker than I thought. I've barely had time to think since I got here."
"It's not always this hectic. We had a lot of downtime before we found out about the rebels and Gepids."
"I'm sure downtime here is not the same like it is in my clan. We don't have enemies constantly trying to attack us," said Gohar, laughing softly.
"You're right about that."
They walked into the Adame and was greeted by Csaba's eldest child, Edemen. He seemed surprise to see them, but welcomed them inside the foyer.
Gabrielle gladly introduced them to one another. "Edemen, this is Gohar. She's from the Barsils clan and recently joined the empire. Gohar, this is Csaba and Farah's son, Prince Edemen."
Gohar bowed her head, too nervous to say anything.
"Nice to meet you," said Edemen. "I was about to have lunch with Öza and my father. Would you like to join us?"
Gabrielle politely declined. "We came here to see Fusun. Where's her room?"
The prince twisted his mouth. "I haven't seen her all day. She disappears a lot. I guess she's enjoying exploring the tribe," he gathered. "Are you sure you don't want to eat with us?"
She looked at Gohar to give an answer, prompting her to speak for herself.
"Um, yes, that would be lovely, Your Highness."
Edemen chuckled under his breath and nudged his head for them to follow.
Arielle perched herself on her bed, biding her time as she awaited the arrival of the midwife. She neglected to notify Revkah of her mother's intention to be present during the examination. Undoubtedly, this oversight was bound to vex the midwife.
Revkah strode into the room, her steps purposeful, with a large satchel draped over her shoulder. With a keen gaze, her eyes honed in on Anastasia, who occupied the seat beside the bed. A subtle display of annoyance flickered across her face, as she had not anticipated the presence of others intruding upon her exam.
"Khatun, you will be joining us for the exam," she stated flatly, as she washed her hands.
The woman possessed an unwavering demeanor, extensive knowledge, and an unyielding devotion to her work. Arielle held great admiration for Revkah's expertise, appreciating her unfiltered honesty. So, despite her best efforts, Revkah's restraint in concealing her irritation was obvious.
"I promise I won't get in your way."
Revkah raised a doubtful eyebrow and rolled up her sleeves as she neared the bed. With a gentle yet authoritative tone, she directed Arielle to recline and raise her shift.
"Have you had anything bothering you since I last saw you?" she asked.
"I've been having trouble breathing," Arielle said, noticing her mother's pressed lips. "But other than that, no."
She gave a subtle warning about her icy hands, then gently pressed them against the Khagana's abdomen. With impressive skill, she carefully explored and probed, to locate the child's position. Suddenly, a stir from inside caused a tiny limb to extend, either an elbow or a knee. Despite her consideration for the comfort of her patient, she struggled to determine the exact position of the baby.
"I'm going to apply some pressure. It will feel uncomfortable for a moment," she cautioned. "Tell me to stop if it becomes painful."
Arielle nodded, reaching for her mother's hand. With the prodding and probing becoming more invasive, she grimaced in discomfort. She tightly clasped her mother's hand, seeking solace and support.
Anastasia ran her palm over her daughter's fevered brow and whispered, "She's almost finished."
Upon completing the exam, Revkah was almost disappointed in her findings. "I've found the cause of your breathing troubles. The child hasn't turned."
With the aid of her mother, Arielle sat upright.
"The head is not positioned where it's supposed to be," she further explained.
"What can be done about this?"
Revkah sighed. "I could give you some breathing exercises and stretches, but that is all I can do."
"And if that doesn't work?"
"We can hope the child repositions itself before your labor begins."
On the balcony near the gathering hall, they indulged in a light lunch. Though Gohar hardly thought this was a light meal. There were so many dishes to pick from. Mainly, she enjoyed conversation with everyone as time went on. She was especially friendly with Öza, who was quiet and extremely polite.
Gabrielle observed how close Edemen was with Öza. He constantly grabbed her hand discreetly so his father wouldn't notice. But she noticed. While Edemen spoke of his latest hobby of weaving tapestries, he laced his fingers with Öza's.
Gabrielle kicked over her glass of fruit juice, spilling it on the rug. "Öza, could you go get another pitcher of juice?" she asked. "Gohar can go with you. We need some more bread too."
Without asking any questions, Öza immediately got up and Gohar followed her. Now, it was just Csaba, Edemen, and Gabrielle alone on the balcony. Edemen caught a strange look in Gabrielle's eyes and opted to scurry to the kitchen.
"I'll help them," he said, dashing off.
Csaba drank the remainder of his juice, furrowing his eyebrows. He wiped his mouth and reached for the bowl of curdled cheese and fried nuts.
"You're just going to ignore what's happening right in front of you, aren't you," she stated.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you spilled your drink on purpose."
"Csaba, why are you allowing Öza and Edemen to live together without being married?"
He spooned the cheese into his mouth and frowned. "Since when did you become like my grandmother? You sound just like her."
"The tribe isn't going to like what you're doing."
"Times have changed, Gabrielle. I don't see the issue."
She huffed, "Times have not changed. Don't pretend like you weren't the talk of the tribe when you and Farah eloped all those years ago. Maybe you don't remember, but I do. Arielle received the same treatment when she ran off with Bayan. And your own mother also received some backlash with your father."
Frustrated, he threw the spoon and planted his hands comfortably on his thighs. Intensely chewing his food, he glared at Gabrielle, his breathing heightening.
"I can't believe Farah is letting this happen. Her of all people!" she added.
He sighed and said softly, "She's in denial over their relationship."
"Oh, really, because it sounds like you're the one who's in denial."
"Are you going to continue to chastise me? I'm not a child. I haven't been a child in a long, long time."
"Edemen isn't a child either," she tersely replied. "Have them marry soon, Csaba."
The king's silence spoke volumes. Gabrielle understood that he had delayed his son's marriage proposal for far too long. Edemen and Öza had cohabitated for months, their presence no longer hidden from the tribe. Öza, once regarded as a former slave, had now ascended to the position of the prince's companion.
"I will talk with Farah when she returns from the Danube," he said.
Xena sat before the mirror, untangling the stubborn snarls in her shimmering ebony locks. It was a rare occasion when she could indulge in a morning of uninterrupted sleep. The sensation of such bliss had slipped her memory, and now she relished every moment. Nevertheless, at present, she found herself hurling curses at the insubordinate tangles that plagued her hair.
As she raked through her hair, her daughter's ghostly figure appeared in the mirror's reflection.
"Hello, mother."
"Hello, daughter," she said in a low voice.
Ana rolled her eyes and walked toward the mirror. She snatched the comb from her mother's hand and began combing the knots out.
"Why did you say that in such a creepy voice?" Xena said with a light laugh.
"I didn't mean to," she admitted, a laugh sneaking up on her. "I need to talk to someone."
"And I just happen to be your lucky pick." Her quick-witted comeback provoked her daughter to playfully tap her on the head with the comb.
"You remember when I had Arielle?"
"How could I forget? Tuya and Kreka were breathing down my neck the entire time."
Anastasia grimaced. "You had to find a midwife so she could perform a cesarean. Do you remember that?"
Xena grabbed her daughter's wrist and swiveled in the chair. There was apparent fear in those crystalline eyes. This wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
"Why are you bringing this up?"
"I'm afraid the same might happen to Arielle. I was with her and Revkah today." She dropped to her knees and rested her hands in her mother's lap. "You and I both know there are risks."
Xena traced her finger along her daughter's jaw. "At least she knows. We didn't know with you. There's still some time."
"Time? Maybe two weeks at most. I don't want anything to happen to her! I don't want her to die!"
"Anastasia, you aren't saying this stuff around her, are you?"
"No, I—I did try to tell her what happened to me, but she just got so angry. She wouldn't listen to what I had to say."
"Ana, I don't think she is interested in hearing your traumatic birthing experience. Sharing that will only intensify her existing fears."
Her voice trembled as she asked her mother, "What should I do? I want to help her."
Xena knew if she presented this particular solution, neither her daughter nor granddaughter would be happy with it. "She should go on leave early. You take over her responsibilities for her."
Anastasia's jaw slacked. "You know she will not like that."
"Don't make it sound like you're usurping her authority," she advised. "Make it sound like you care about her—which you do—and you're worried for her health. Try to turn off your queeny voice" she said, tapping Ana's cheek.
Ana rested her head on her mother's lap. Her mother toyed with her hair, which sent her into a state of relaxation. She hadn't realized how much she truly needed the comfort—her mother's comfort—right now.
"Can't you talk to her?" she mumbled.
"I'm not doing your dirty work," said Xena, jokingly.
She raised her head, looking her in the eye. "Mom, you've always had a better relationship with Arielle. She listens to you more than me."
"I don't know about that," she said doubtfully. "You're her mother. It's easier for her to say no to you. You like to say no to me all the time."
That brought a smile to Anastasia's lips. "Okay...I'll talk to her."
Aurora was aware that her mother would scold her if she discovered she had ventured to the river unaccompanied. However, she calculated the precise amount of time required to make it back to the tribe. By departing with Fusun in the late afternoon, they would arrive shortly after the sun had set.
Without delay, Fusun shed her garments and plunged into the frigid depths. Fortuitously, the sun's presence rendered the water somewhat tolerable. She submerged herself and resurfaced, grinning at Aurora.
"Are you going to get in or just stare?" she shouted from afar.
The princess let out a tired breath as she removed her trousers and stockings, carefully placing them on the ground. She then removed her vest and blouse, leaving her clad only in her undergarments. With a flicker of discomfort, she dipped her foot into the water, recoiling at its icy chill.
Fusun roared in laughter. "You're going in the water in that?"
"What else am I supposed to wear?" asked Aurora, putting her hands on her hips.
"Nothing? It's just the two of us. Nobody's here!"
The notion of immersing herself unclothed in a river alongside a mere acquaintance was utterly unfamiliar to her. Aurora inhaled deeply, proceeding to discard her undergarments with caution before delicately removing her camisole. At once, she draped her arms protectively across her breasts.
Submerged up to her knees in the frigid river, her gaze fixated upon Fusun's descent beneath the surface. Overwhelmed with unease, she remained rooted in her position, only to be startled by the forceful clutch upon her ankles. In an instant, she was forcefully propelled into the water, her piercing screams intermingling with the tumultuous splash of her fall.
She resurfaced, her desperate gasps piercing the air. Simultaneously, Fusun ensconced her in a tender embrace, their bodies entwined. A sly grin played upon Fusun's lips, brimming with mischief.
"Are you crazy?!"
Fusun giggled. "You look like you needed some help."
Aurora's senses jolted with sudden clarity as she became aware of their breasts pressed against each other. An intense blush flooded her cheeks, painting them a deep shade of crimson. She maneuvered herself out of the embrace, creating a palpable distance between them.
Fusun swam backward and floated on her back, staring at the blue sky. "I used to go on lavish trips with Augusta Sophia. We went to the sea every summer and I used to sneak out with the other slaves and swim in the ocean at night. It felt so freeing."
Taken aback, the princess said, "You were a Byzantine slave?"
"Mhm. But I'm not a slave any more thanks to Queen Farah," she said, swimming over to Aurora. "I can do whatever I want now. I've always loved the water, so thanks for...taking me here."
Aurora was suddenly consumed by guilt over her deceitful tales of her family and social standing. The fear of facing her mother's reprimand haunted her, while Fusun simply reveled in the relief of escaping a life of servitude.
"The river is a lot better when it's warmer," she said, smiling. "Are you planning to stay in Pannonia?"
"Probably. I don't have any family. I was an orphan in my tribe. The elders took care of me."
A slave and orphan? How could she even compare? She was granted all her desires and bestowed with opportunities that Fusun would forever be deprived of.
"I...hope Pannonia will be good to you."
"So far, it has been! It's a beautiful place. The people are beautiful too," said Fusun, as she smiled, locking eyes with Aurora.
Aurora awkwardly smiled and brushed her wet hair behind her ears.
On the training field, Eksama toiled relentlessly with the soldiers, from dawn till dusk. Cera stood by, obediently carrying out Eksama's directives all day long. Initially skeptical about collaborating with her distant aunt, Cera soon discovered that Eksama was an exceptional mentor and military leader.
Xena and Gabrielle were present, silently observing the training. They stood at the edge, witnessing the soldiers tirelessly circling the field. Xena had to exert great restraint, restraining herself from voicing her opinions. She constantly had to remind herself that she no longer held command over the army.
Gabrielle gazed up at her wife, amused by the judgment enrapturing her. "Bring back memories?" she asked.
"I don't know how I was able to do it for all those years," she said in admiration. "Eksama is great."
"Wow, you're complimenting her. You're in a good mood!"
"Or I am being the bigger person and trying not to judge her tactics. That's big for me."
"I know," Gabrielle said, grabbing her spouse's hand. "I'm proud of you."
On cue, the former Gepid queen strolled over to the duo. She struck her sword in the grass, shook Xena's hand and nodded to Gabrielle. Smiling, she admired the troops continuing to run laps while Cera instructed them with a whistle.
"Your granddaughter is a fast learner."
Xena faintly smiled. "It's a shame she can't speak."
Eksama turned with a furrowed brow. "She can say some words. Her favorite word is 'no.' She says that to me a lot," she said, snorting a chuckle. "She's got a whole list of words. Mostly three-word sentences. But she's not completely mute."
Gabrielle gasped a breathy "Really?" she nudged her wife. "Did you hear that?"
"Anastasia is going to be happy to hear that," she said with a smile. "She has trouble communicating with Cera."
Eksama kept nodding her head, seemingly disinterested in small talk. She was focused on the troops' training, but since the governor and Khanum were here, she knew they wanted something from her.
Changing topics, she asked sassily, "Did you two just come here to spy on me, or what?"
Gabrielle smiled. "We can always count on you to get straight to the point. We were hoping you could end training early. I need to talk with Cera and—"
"Which means Xena is my girl, right?" she jested, as she winked.
No matter how hard she tried, Xena could barely withstand the redhead's sarcastic behavior at times. Eksama proved to be quite comical, despite her seriousness.
"Call me girl one more time," she warned. "But, yes, I need to talk with you."
Walking through the outskirts of the tribe, Xena dreaded this topic. She tried not to have preconceived notions of Eksama's reaction.
"I know you've been busy with the army, but you probably saw Augusta Sophia here last week," she began.
Eksama twirled her blade as she took slow strides. "I saw the Byzantine, yes."
"We decided to build an alliance with her and Justin."
"Hmm. Best of luck with that."
She was glad she was the one delivering this news instead of Arielle. "As part of the agreement, Sophia is paying us a military stipend. We—you—are required to carry out certain missions...maybe possible raids of other tribes."
That struck Eksama's attention. "Raids of what tribes? There aren't many tribes around here that we don't have control of."
Xena stopped mid-stride and grabbed her arm. "It's the Gepids," she said, holding her breath. "There's a possible uprising. It's why Bayan came here."
There was no anticipated backlash, but the absence of any response was even more unsettling. Eksama's face briefly reflected remorse, but Xena couldn't discern whether it stemmed from distress or guilt over her previous attack on Pannonia many years ago. Eksama pledged to honor her father's name and coexist harmoniously with the tribe. She garnered the tribe's respect and reconciled with her estranged family. Additionally, she vowed to renounce the authority to govern the empire, despite her rightful claim as queen.
"Are you worried I will betray my people?"
"The Gepids used to be your people too."
Eksama sheathed her blade and turned her body to face Xena's. "After everything that happened and the grace I was shown, you think I would betray the people of Pannonia?"
"I don't think that." she chose her words wisely, continuing, "If the Gepids find out you are leading the army, I don't know what they will do."
"They will lose. I know all their tricks and tactics."
Hearing this brought Xena a level of comfort. "You're the right person to command this army, Eksama. You're the best swordswoman here."
"Aside from you?"
Xena smiled. "I don't think I'm the one who holds that rank anymore."
"Humbling, coming from you."
Whenever Gabrielle had the chance to be with Cera, it was a precious delight. Like the rest of the tribe and family, she cherished their time together. Despite Cera's imposing stature and her responsibilities as a mother, wife, and warrior in the making, Gabrielle forever saw her as the little girl she had nurtured.
They settled on the grass under a tree, resuming their talk. Cera, with her ever-present bread and apples for sustenance during training, extended an invitation to indulge. As they munched away, she couldn't help but fix her gaze on Gabrielle, sensing an unspoken depth simmering beneath her composure.
She snapped her fingers and Gabrielle lifted her head.
"I heard that you can say a few words!"
Cera half-smiled. "Yes," she whispered. "A little."
Hearing that voice, though faint, brought a smile to Gabrielle's lips. "That's wonderful! I remember when you said a word years ago. Does your mother know? I'm sure she'd love to hear your voice again."
A small frown graced the princess. "I'm still mad at her."
Gabrielle swallowed. "I...I know how hard that was for you, Cera. She thought she was protecting you."
"She protected me too much. She crippled me," she said, angrily slapping her knee.
"I know. But you've accomplished more than your mother ever thought you would. You proved her wrong. Trust me, that eats at her."
She added, "Talking to her will help. You don't need to forgive her right away, but talking it through helps."
Cera pondered, her head gently swaying. Since her return, she had been quiet around her mother. Her sole intention in being here was military training. Eventually, she would have to go back to the Nezak tribe, as they depended on her as their princess. It was thoughtful of Mirac's eldest sister, Yana, to rule in her stead, yet her stay in Pannonia was limited.
"Why did you want to talk with me?" she asked.
"Well...you might have to work very closely with your mother soon," said Gabrielle, witnessing the princess' eyes darken. "She will be taking over Arielle's duties soon and there's a possible campaign coming up."
Cera's eyebrow shot up in surprise, her eyes widening in disbelief. The imminent arrival of her sister's baby was expected, but the revelation of a military campaign caught her completely off guard. It was baffling to Cera that despite residing under the same roof, communication with Arielle had dwindled to the bare minimum ever since her arrival in Pannonia.
"And the people trust someone, who can barely see, as their regent?"
The response surprised Gabrielle. So much so that her jaw dropped.
"Your mother has led very successful military campaigns, Cera. Her eyes may not be sharp anymore, but her mind is."
"Why can't grandma be Arielle's regent?"
"She will help when she can. She doesn't want to be in the field anymore."
Cera threw the apple core across the field. "Is this why you want me to talk to mother?"
"That's part of it, but you should talk to her anyway," she concluded, rising to her feet. "Khosrow is sending troops to guard the border in case the rebels come. Don't let your anger consume you, Cera."
Navaz sat on the bed, enjoying reading a journal of poetry. One day, he searched the archives and found the journal in a crevice, wedged between stacks of dusty manuscripts. With the fireplace's roaring flames and a quiet room, Navaz appreciated the rare time he got to himself.
Chuckling at the comedic poem, he suddenly heard the door creaking. Stepping into the room was Arielle, and without any hesitation, he quickly set the journal aside. Seeing his daughter, a surge of joy rushed through him. Waving enthusiastically, he beckoned for her to come closer.
"Is mother in here?" she asked.
"I haven't seen her in a while. She's a very busy woman lately," he said in slight jest.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Arielle's lips, revealing her fragile facade of happiness.
"Oh, is she? I guess I haven't been paying much attention," she replied.
"You've been a little preoccupied."
What he sensed was that his daughter was really eager to vent or seek comfort. And even in the absence of her mother, he firmly believed that he could provide her with the very same level of comfort. So, Navaz swatted the empty spot next to him.
"Is there something on your mind?" he asked her, observing her hesitancy. "You can talk to me, Arielle. You used to talk to me all the time."
Wavering for a moment, Arielle made the decision to accept her father's offer. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she felt an immediate warmth as he tightly wrapped his arm around her. What a feeling she had yearned for from her father. Assessing the elated expression on her father's face, she gathered he shared the same sentiment.
"Tell me what's bothering you."
"Um, I—it's about the baby."
"Mhmm..."
He waited patiently for her to continue and was met with a long silence.
"I'm listening," he said.
"Did mother tell you?"
Navaz smiled. "Your mother never misses an opportunity to share her excitement about the baby," he said.
This instilled within Arielle a feeling of immense delight. Due to her demanding responsibilities, she found it challenging to fully appreciate her family. Consequently, Arielle experienced a sense of remorse as she inadvertently disregarded her mother's joy over the impending arrival of her grandchild.
An overwhelming surge of emotions swept over her, tears cascading down her cheeks. She sought refuge in her father's embrace, unfolding the details of her session with the midwife. In that moment, she confided in her father about her fears regarding her life or the potential loss of her child.
Navaz effortlessly scooped her up, carefully laying her on the bed, he positioned himself beside her. Embracing him tightly, she continued to wail, tears unabated, in the sanctuary of his chest. He held his daughter close, cradling her like a small child.
Xena laid out a map on the ground and marked wooden totems to represent the various empires and tribes encircling Pannonia. Following her conversation with Eksama a few days prior, she understood her role in aiding the struggle against the Gepids. Even if she couldn't directly join the battle, she resolved to contribute by identifying vulnerable spots in their territories.
Gabrielle approached and gently kneaded her shoulders. She let out a low groan, tilting her head back and gracing Gabrielle with an appreciative smile.
"Planning to be Ana's eyes for this campaign, huh?"
"I know Eksama is capable, but I want to help. Plus, Eksama and Anastasia have never worked together. I'm a little...worried about that."
Gabrielle had reason to worry, yet she hesitated to disclose Cera's venomous words to her wife. Never did she imagine that Cera possessed the capacity to speak ill of others, yet a malicious side of her was revealed.
"Are you sure you want Cera to help with the campaign?"
Xena moved a wooden totem across the map. "It'll be good exposure for her. Eksama spoke very highly about her accomplishments."
She reached out for the wine glass that had been in her possession for the past hour. As she attempted to indulge in a sip, she discovered that the cup was barren, devoid of any trace of wine.
"Could you go get another bottle of wine?"
Gabrielle leaned forward, side-eyeing her. "You drank an entire bottle by yourself? How were you able to do that with me in the room?"
"It was only a quarter full," she muttered. "Please? I'll share."
Gabrielle snatched the cup. "Fine, but when you're done plotting, we're playing a game of my choice."
More wine, she says. Gabrielle muttered as she made her way through the dim corridors of the Adame. Whistling along with her steps, a figure brushed past her out of the corner of her eye. She halted and directed her gaze to the adjacent hallway, where only the dancing candle flames could be seen, flickering in response to the cold drafts.
Without a second thought, she pressed on with her quest for wine. Approaching her was Anastasia, burdened by the weight of two hefty sacks.
"Do you need some help with those? They look heavy."
Ana smiled, refusing the offer. "I managed to carry these across the tribe."
Gabrielle nodded. "Did you go on a shopping trip?" she curiously asked.
"I commissioned some clothes to be made for Abbaseh and Boran. I want them to wear more of our people's clothes."
"Boran's going to love that! You should've seen her trying on all the clothes Nousha sent."
Ana fought an eye-roll. "Well, I can't compete with Nousha's luxurious gold-woven silk clothes, but I hope she'll like these."
As they parted ways, Gabrielle's mind suddenly shifted. She turned around just as Anastasia was about to turn a corner. "Anastasia, has Cera talked to you in the last few days?"
"I haven't had many chances to talk to her. Why?"
"No reason," she said, beginning to walk away. Then, she changed her mind. "Actually, you should really talk to her."
At last!
Aurora found herself in the clear. She had no intention of crouching behind a towering vase in the corridor, biding her time until her grandmother and Gabrielle departed. Venturing out of the Adame after nightfall was a perilous endeavor, as evidenced by her narrow escape on her previous return home.
Aurora hurried outside, moving like a shadow. Breathless, she glanced back at the Adame, praying no one had witnessed her departure. Upstairs, she caught sight of her sisters strolling alongside Ku-Ilm. It amused her to imagine that she had once more emerged triumphant in her escape.
She found Fusun at their regular haunt, by the alcove near the training grounds. It was a secluded spot, particularly after sunset. She jostled Fusun's shoulder, catching her off guard.
"I didn't think you were going to make it," said Fusun.
Aurora, out of breath, leaned against the tree to catch her breath. "I almost got caught leaving this time."
"I don't want you to get in trouble. Maybe we should stop meeting up after dark."
"But I like being around you," she said just above a whisper.
Fusun cast a sliver of a grin. "I like being around you too, Aurora."
During their nightly escapade, they reached the crop fields. Navigating their way through, Aurora guided them to an isolated spot. Forging through the wheat stalks, they stumbled upon a grove of slender trees adorned with fresh, verdant leaves.
"These trees are from Persia. They grow the most delicious golden fruit! In the summer, they will be ready to eat."
Fusun's fingertips grazed the leaves as she walked through the rows of trees. "I used to go hunt for figs during summertime. Sometimes I'd find some golden ones. Do the fruits of these trees taste like figs?"
"They taste nothing like figs. They're better than any little gold fig," Aurora said, chuckling.
The pair emerged from the field of crops and made their way toward a well. Their plan was to dedicate the evening to hydrating the trees, so they procured two buckets of water from the well. Fusun, exerting considerable effort, hoisted the weighty bucket and noticed a distant light flickering in the horizon.
With a frown, she fixated on the intensifying light. Aurora pivoted, mirroring Fusun's line of sight.
"What's that over there?" asked Fusun.
Aurora sensed trouble lurking. It was abnormal for anyone to be out in the dead of night. Intrigued, Fusun ventured closer to the light, and begrudgingly, Aurora trailed behind. Their findings were far from anticipated. A monstrous inferno had engulfed the parched meadows, its flames bellowing and spreading relentlessly.
In the distance, the sound of thundering horse hooves echoed across the open field, as they galloped toward the encampment. Aurora squinted, unable to discern the unfamiliar figures atop the five horses. She was certain they were not Huns.
She seized Fusun's hand, yanking her away from the flames without delay. Fusun, consumed by fear, couldn't tear her gaze away from the spreading fire and the approaching riders. Aurora's pleas to escape fell on deaf ears.
Aurora panicked as she observed Farah and the elite Hun soldiers in pursuit of the mysterious horsemen. Farah quickly alerted the tribe by blowing a horn that hung from her belt.
Her heart pounded with two overwhelming fears: the thunderous hooves of horsemen trampling her, and the terrifying possibility of her aunt's gaze catching sight of her.
"Fusun!" she cried. "Run home! Run!"
Following a prolonged weeping session, Arielle gracefully succumbed to a deep state of slumber. Her father, in his unwavering support, consoled her until her bellowing wails transformed into gentle sighs.
Soon after, Navaz became aware that he was trapped in his bed, wrapped tightly in Arielle's warm presence. Her leg lay across his, her arm over his chest, and her belly comfortably nestled against him. And what an incredible sensation it was, feeling the robust kicks of his unborn grandchild, causing an undeniable smile to spread across his face.
In the midst of Navaz's engrossing literary endeavor, Anastasia entered the room, bearing two huge sacks. She removed her headdress and gently arranged it upon a pedestal. Unaware of her slumbering daughter, she recounted the events of her bustling day.
"I went by the seamstresses' tent to pick up Abbaseh and Boran's clothes," she said, unlacing her boots. "Boran is the same size as Abbaseh now! Can you believe that?"
Afraid of Arielle stirring, Navaz refrained from addressing his wife.
"Anyway, how was your day?" she asked. "Navaz?"
Anastasia was certain that her husband couldn't be asleep during this early hour of the evening. Although her vision was limited, her hearing was keen, and she could discern even the slightest of sounds. It was the distinct rustling of parchment paper against his fingers that confirmed her suspicion that her husband was indeed wide awake.
She traversed the room, parting the drapes enclosing the bed. The faint annoyance she bore ebbed away upon witnessing the tender embrace of her husband and their daughter. A broad grin adorned her lips, bestowing a gentle peck upon Navaz's lips.
Ana carefully maneuvered herself onto the bed, their daughter nestled in between them.
"She told me about the baby," he said, noticing his wife's smile fading. "You should have said something."
Her jaw tensed. "I've been working up the courage to tell Arielle to step down from her duties. My mother suggested it."
"You kept this to yourself for days. She came to me and cried herself to sleep. For two hours."
She stroked Arielle's head, her fingers entwining within the strands of her daughter's thick, luxurious curls.
She looked at Navaz. "Do you remember her birth?"
"I do."
The memory of the traumatic birth stayed with her, clear and sharp. She endured excruciating pain for days, her body tormented by unrelenting contractions. Her mother offered a potent concoction of herbs, easing her agony. After that, everything became a hazy blur until she witnessed a blazing knife, ready to slice through her womb.
She uttered, her voice a poignant blend of sorrow and optimism, "I don't want that to happen to her," as she delicately pressed a kiss on her daughter's forehead.
Anastasia lifted her head at the distant hum of a horn, a disconcerting sound that hinted at potential invaders.
"What is that?"
Aurora sprinted up the stairs, hurrying towards her mother's chambers. Wasifah was absent from her post, indicating her shift had ended for the night. The princess forcefully pushed open the doors, ceaselessly scouring the room for her mother, only to discover an empty bed.
Her head throbbed as she sprinted up another flight of stairs and burst into the room. Xena and Gabrielle stared at her in astonishment, as they sat on the floor, engrossed in a game of marbles.
"There—there are white riders outside!" she squawked. "I can't find my mom anywhere!"
With a burst of energy, Gabrielle wasted no time in grabbing her coat, slipping on her shoes, and snatching her sword off the wall. As she breezed past the princess, her determined steps echoed through the hallway. Xena swiftly followed suit, reaching out to snag her headdress from the stand.
They hurriedly descended the stairs, and the fire had swelled to such an extent that it was visible from the Adame. The tribe was already in a state of frenzy, with people abandoning their yurts to witness the grasslands being devoured by the fire.
Observing from the window, Gabrielle said, "I'll go get Csaba."
Xena nodded sharply and caught sight of Aurora trying to escape to her quarters. Swiftly, she grabbed the girl's arm and drew her back.
"What were you doing outside at this time of night?"
Farah traversed the camp, riding until her weary horse succumbed. She clung to her side, sensing the trickle of hot blood through her worn leather vest. A crowd of onlookers encircled her steed, their voices filled with anguish, fear, and concern.
She dismounted with a lack of grace, struggling to find her balance. Grimacing, she hobbled and gratefully fell into Gabrielle's embrace just in time. One more step and she would have been flat on her back.
Blood smeared onto Gabrielle's sleeves. Horrified, she helped the injured queen to the Adame. "You need medical attention," she said.
Csaba sprinted ahead, his children close on his heels. The sight of the blood on his wife's garments shook him to the core. Without a second thought, he effortlessly gathered Farah into his arms.
Aman and Aladar forced their path forward, their breaths coming in gasps as they beheld the copious amount of blood staining their mother's clothes. In a swift motion, Aracsilla shoved her brothers aside, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Mother!"
Gabrielle wiped her bloodied hands on her clothes, barely noticing Edemen standing next to her.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. All I know is that there were riders nearby."
"I'll go find out," he said, climbing atop his horse. "Look after my sister. She's pretty upset."
"Don't even think of trying to lie to me."
Aurora's heart raced as she took a step back, her eyes widening in fear as Xena towered above her. Her hands trembled as she stumbled and collapsed onto the floor, desperately scrambling to stand.
With an unexpected display of strength, Xena effortlessly lifted the princess by her arms and placed her on the bed.
"You've been disappearing a lot lately."
Aurora's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and fear.
Xena raised an eyebrow, mildly amused. "So, you have been wandering off."
The girl's expression betrayed herself. She had been tricked.
"I didn't do anything wrong!" she spat. "I was—I was by the water well. I saw a fire! I alerted you!"
"What were you doing by the well? That's far from the Adame."
"I was getting water."
She placed her hands on either side of the princess. "If you don't want to tell me what you were really doing, that's fine."
Aurora tightened her lips, spotting the door swing wide open. With her grandmother's entrance, she found an ideal chance to dodge the relentless questioning. She speedily leaped from the bed and sprinted across the room.
"Grandma Khatun!" she cried, hugging her tightly. "Do you know where mother is?"
Anastasia drew her brows in and kissed the top of Aurora's head. "Ah, she's in my room, sleeping. I heard there was a fire. You weren't outside, were you?"
Aurora glanced behind her, only to find Xena's eyes narrowing into sharp slits. With a slight tremor in her body, she instinctively turned her cheek away from Xena's piercing glare. She shook her head and hugged Anastasia firmly.
"Mom, could you find out what happened?"
Xena's fingers twitched restlessly as she fixated her gaze on the princess, her penetrating stare drilling into her back like a hot needle. She snatched her blade off the rack and tramped out of the room.
That little liar.
When Xena stepped outside, the fire was mostly extinguished. Xerxes approached her, his efforts to convince the masses to return to their yurts in full swing. Wielding his sword and whistling, he directed the crowd to clear a passage.
"Gepids were spotted on the bridge. They started the fire," he told her.
"Hmm." She crossed her arms. "Where are they now?"
"They fled—probably going back to their tribe. Have you seen Arielle?"
"She's asleep."
Relief crossed Xerxes' face, then he noticed how perturbed she was. "Something wrong?" he asked.
"It's not a good sign that Gepids showed up to the tribe. I would've preferred Adarmahan's rebels."
"I would prefer if none of them showed up here," he said. "It's a good thing Farah alerted the tribe."
"Farah?"
"She chased them down. I guess they followed her when she was returning from the Danube. I heard she was badly injured."
Xena departed from the tumultuous tribe and stepped into Csaba's home. Nearby, she caught the faint sounds of sobbing and discovered Gabrielle comforting Aracsilla in the communal hall. Xena entered the room, extending a gentle smile to the child, whose face was marred by tear trails.
She gathered Aracsilla in her arms, gently brushing away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. "Don't worry about your mother. She's pretty tough."
Gabrielle stood and squeezed the girl's arm. "She'll be just fine, you'll see."
"There was blood everywhere!"
Shortly after, tears poured down her face once more and Xena couldn't help but flinch at the sound of her heart-wrenching sobs. She cradled the girl's head against her breast, and turned her gaze towards Gabrielle, silently pleading for an explanation.
Gabrielle whispered into her ear, "Her side was sliced open."
It wasn't a fatal injury, so that was good news. "Gepids were here."