Chapter 33: The Poison Wars: Part II
The news of the Khagan's murder spread quickly. Everyone in the palace was ordered to go into the throne chamber. Hushed voices lingered in the chamber, filling the quiet space. Aurora sat on a floor pillow beside Mara and Gohar. Wasifah sat behind them, watching the room fill with servants, gardeners, stable boys, and a flurry of women. It was assumed that the women were concubines of the late Khagan.
Aurora's hands shook in her lap as she tried to erase what she heard earlier. She specifically heard the Khagan had been poisoned. Yet, from listening to the hushed conversations, not everyone knew the cause of death was poison. The image of the Shad retreating from the Khagan's quarters was stuck in Aurora's mind. She clearly saw the Shad.
Her gaze lingered on the Shad, who just entered the room. He paid no attention to her, and why should he? He didn't care who she was or where she came from. Aurora managed to hear a soldier call his name in the cacophony of voices. Buyruk Chor.
Gohar spoke softly, "A murderer is in this room. Everyone will be questioned. We will probably be interrogated more than the others since we're outsiders."
Aurora's heart quickened at the thought. She had no desire to face interrogation, having witnessed enough already. Her only proof was what she had seen with her own eyes. Shad Buyruk Chor had exited the Khagan's domain after two attackers escaped. If Aurora shared what she had witnessed, she would be entangling herself in the internal matters of another Khaganate. It was a treacherous boundary to cross. The burden of her family's empire weighed heavily upon her, and any misstep could prove disastrous.
The crowd hushed as the Khagan's sons made their entrance. Yollig strode purposefully through the room, determined to claim the vacant throne. Tengri and Qutlug Khatun took their places on either side of the dais. Tengri met Aurora's eyes from across the room and smiled.
Yollig eased himself onto the throne's hard seat. Spreading his legs as he reclined, he unsheathed his blade and laid it across his lap. After everyone was seated, Chancellor Yusi stepped forward, paying his respects to the new Khagan.
"Amid the unforeseen death of our beloved Khagan, a new ruler must emerge. The gods have blessed the late Khagan with two sons to take his place. It is decided that Prince Yollig is now proclaimed as the new Khagan, if there are no objections."
Chancellor Yusi scanned the crowd, looking for defilers. All was well. It was decided then. Yollig simply nodded and the chancellor strolled back to his seat near the dais next to Qutlug Khatun.
"I will find my father's murderer. Everyone in this room is deemed a suspect and I am determined to find the culprit. Nobody shall leave this palace. Guards will be posted outside every quarter."
Tengri raised his hand to speak. "If I may, I would like to be the one to interrogate the Huns," he said, and took a long pause. "They are our guests and should be treated as such."
Aurora threw herself onto the bed. The frustration built up inside her and she growled, glaring at the ceiling. She flailed her arms around and kicked her legs. Once she calmed down, the rhythm of her heartbeat thumped in her ears. It soothed her. Her staggered breaths became slow and heavy.
The door opened and heavy footfalls hit the wooden floor. Aurora recognized the graceful yet deliberate footsteps. Her eyes raised to look at Wasifah's veiled face looming above her. Wasifah's dark eyes narrowed. Aurora didn't need to see the woman's face to know she was frowning.
"I heard you leave the room last night," said Wasifah.
"I needed some air."
The officer sat on the bed and patted Aurora's thigh. The princess did not budge and continued glaring at the ceiling. Wasifah pursed her lips. "You've seen something."
Aurora shook her head in response.
Something inside her told her not to believe the princess's words. She allowed her instincts to override her military training. Wasifah wrapped a heavy hand around Aurora's arm and hoisted her up. Aurora jerked and a small yelp escaped her.
Wasifah lifted her face veil, unfolding a deep frown. "Aurora, this is no time to lie! If you saw something, you must tell me. It would be wise of you to keep your mouth shut when the prince comes to question you."
Aurora was taken aback by the reaction, leaving her in a state of blank bewilderment as she gazed at the Persian officer. It had been a while, but in that moment, she felt her mother's presence. Wasifah's authoritative yet heartfelt tone echoed her mother's voice. What Wasifah had just done went against her usual demeanor, but it was exactly what Aurora craved. She needed someone to help her—to guide her.
She threw her arms around Wasifah, burying her face in her shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. In a surprising turn of events, Wasifah embraced her, gently rubbing her back.
"I miss my mother. If she were here, she would know what to do."
Wasifah held the princess's face. "Tell me what you saw, princess. I will protect you."
Aurora gazed into the officer's brown eyes and cocked her head. The gentleness in her expression was almost motherly. It was a new aspect of the Persian that Aurora had not seen before.
She recalled what she saw yesterday evening, and relayed the scene with as many details as she could remember. Wasifah listened but occasionally paused her to ask a few clarifying questions.
"What am I supposed to do? I don't know if Buyruk Chor is the murderer, but it's what I saw."
"Listen to me, Aurora, tell no one what you just told me. Politics will reveal the answer soon enough. Did anyone see you leave?"
"No, I don't think so."
"You don't think so?"
Aurora frowned. "No. Nobody saw me."
Wasifah then asked, "There weren't any people wandering the halls?"
"Nobody was around, I swear to you."
Estakhr, Persia
The request for Ursula to see her grandson was swiftly rejected. The Shah was hesitant, and Xerxes had used up all his favors. It took much pleading just to get Ursula into Persia. Despite her persistence, the Shah remained firm in his decision.
Nousha intervened on Ursula's behalf, asking her stepson to allow Ursula to see her grandson as a favor. After four days she finally convinced Khosrow, feeling a sense of obligation for the kindness Ursula had shown her.
Ursula was forbidden from journeying through Persia, but Issik wasn't. Issik traveled through the empire with his wife by his side, not having seen or heard from the Shah since their forced marriage. After receiving a summons to Estakhr, he wasted no time in departing. Upon arriving in the throne room, he was surprised to find his grandmother waiting for him.
He felt a hand grasp his arm. Turning to his wife's worried eyes peeking out from her veil, Issik locked eyes with his grandmother. She appeared unchanged, save for a few more lines etched around her eyes and mouth. Despite her efforts to conceal it, he could sense her joy at seeing him again.
Ursula hadn't embraced him like he expected. The meat of her palm met his face with a resounding thwack. Issik's face vibrated and his eyes widened.
She had slapped him.
"I shouldn't have had to rescue your brothers from you," she spat. "You held them hostage. You terrorized your own kind. You are a tyrant."
Issik's wife approached and stood protectively in front of him. She pulled the face cover over her headpiece and stared at Ursula. The girl did little to intimidate Ursula. She was much smaller in size, younger, and inexperienced.
"Choose your words wisely. You are speaking to a member of the House of Sasan. Lest you forget who my cousin is."
Ursula's tone was even. "I know very well who your cousin is."
When his wife began to charge forward, Issik put his arm up. "Mahatab, back off," he barked. "I will speak with her alone."
"She struck you, Issik!"
"She is my grandmother!" he yelled, and Mahatab blinked. "I want to speak with her alone. Please."
Mahatab glanced at her husband's grandmother. With a loud huff, she hurried out of the throne chamber with two maids trailing her. Ursula's gaze followed her departure until she was finally alone with Issik.
"She's charming," her voice, dripping in sarcasm. "Mahatab, is that her name?"
Issik replied with a nod. "She has a short temper, but she's a good wife. She's been good to me."
They were confined to the palace, unable to venture outside its walls. However, they were free to roam within its rooms. Ursula and Issik chose to settle in a chamber close to the throne room, both instinctively avoiding the Shah's seat of power.
After many years, Ursula could hardly recognize her grandson. He was no longer a child, but a grown man. His chubby cheeks and skinny limbs were gone, replaced by a lean, muscular frame with his mother's big brown eyes and thick hair. He was now a husband, a prince, a part of the Sasan family. He was also a horrible person.
Ursula would always remember the day she attempted to save him and his siblings from Yeter. Instead of supporting her, he betrayed her by claiming she had kidnapped his brothers. That moment marked the end of her relationship with Issik. Now, she could barely stand to look at him.
"I wrote you a few times," Issik spoke in a soft voice. "You didn't receive any of my letters?"
Ursula's eyes softened, and said, "I did." He appeared hurt by her honesty. "I couldn't bring myself to reply to them."
"I suppose my mother's been imprisoned since I was forced to marry a Sassanian."
"Arielle spared her," she said, seeing his face lighten. "Your mother lives with Muqan and Tespar in a hidden location."
Good, Issik thought. His mother was alive. "I'm sure you didn't come all the way to Persia to see me."
"I would never step foot in Persia without good cause," Ursula said, slyly smiling. Then her light humor faded. "The Shah spared you too, Issik. You could've been dealt a worse hand. Marrying the Shah's cousin isn't the worst punishment."
"You hate the Sassanians," he sneered.
"I do not hate anyone."
"Just me? You hate me."
Those words stung. "No. I don't hate you." She grasped his hand in hers. "I will always love you. But if the blade threatened to end your life, I can't say I would stop it from happening."
Ursula watched as the color left his face. It pained her to see him hurt by her words, but she couldn't deny the truth. Her grandson had shown himself to be a cruel individual who had taken the lives of his own kind. She wanted him to understand the depth of her feelings towards his oppressive actions. The world would not mourn the loss of someone like Issik.
She rose and pressed her lips to his forehead. Cradling his head, she finagled her fingers in his hair. In this moment, Issik savored her presence, knowing he may never see her again.
Nousha staggered out of the bath chamber and climbed into bed. She was insistent that she could bathe herself without assistance. Ursula respected her ask, but Nousha wished she hadn't. Taking a bath by herself proved to be beyond tiring. She barely finished washing her hair before losing all her strength.
Ursula appeared next to the bed, holding a saucer with a glass on it. The medicine, which Nousha dreaded, stared back at her in the glass. She drank it one gulp and the bitterness traveled down to her empty stomach.
"How was your bath?" Ursula asked.
"A challenge." She watched the mirth dance in Ursula's eyes. "You shouldn't have left me alone. What if I had drowned?"
"I never left you. I was watching."
Nousha gasped. "You watched me bathe?"
"I have already seen you unclothed," Ursula said, slyly smiling.
She would've responded with her quick tongue, but Xerxes walked in. Her tune quickly changed upon seeing her son. He looked so joyful, seeing her sit up in bed on her own, eating, drinking, and talking. Xerxes had really set his life aside to see that she was healed. The guilt tugged at Nousha. He shouldn't be here. He needed to be with his daughters.
Ursula clapped a hand on the shehzade's shoulder. "Your mother took a bath by herself. I'd say she's feeling a lot better."
The news brought Xerxes more than joy than he could bear. Nousha eyed the woman carefully, baffled as to why she received such kindness. Ursula had lost so much over the years. Her grandchildren forcefully ripped from her, one marrying a Persian noble. Her son forced into a marriage to save thousands of lives. It was forgotten that Ursula was married to one of Attila's bastard sons. She could've been queen, but she didn't want such titles.
Yet, here she was, helping a Persian without asking for much. Nousha's features softened, staring at Ursula while Xerxes spoke to her, sending well wishes of her good health.
"Bawi is on his way to Estakhr. The moment he steps through the gates, we will arrest him," said Xerxes. "I may not be able to punish him for murdering my aunt, but I can punish him for hurting you."
Nousha smiled, touching his face. "My sweet son. You should be on your way back to Pannonia."
"I am not leaving until I know Bawi pays for his crimes and to see you better," he swore. "I want to take you back with me so you can see the girls."
The argument flared up once again, with Xerxes blinded by his joy and forgetting his reasons for leaving Persia. Nousha, however, could not forget. The heated argument lingered in her mind, as Xerxes had given up his claim to the throne for Arielle. Nousha's feelings towards Arielle were complex, as she had only tolerated her over the years for the sake of the children she gave birth to. While Nousha cherished the girls as they belonged to Persia, she could never forgive their Hun lineage and the actions it had forced Xerxes to take.
"I am not leaving Persia," she told him. "I belong here. If you want me to see the girls, they must come here."
Xerxes believed his mother should have moved on from their disagreement by now. It had been more than a year since their argument, and he understood that Arielle would never agree to bring their daughters back to Persia. He was starting to see that Arielle's concerns were valid. Persia would ensnare their daughters, preventing them from ever leaving.
"You would rather stay here instead of seeing your granddaughters?"
"I will see them again," she said, eyes sparkling. "You're foolish to think that your daughters will remain in Pannonia once they come of age. You and I both know it, and so does Arielle. It's why she took them away from here."
Xerxes sprung up, barely able to contain his fury. He wanted to slap her, but he couldn't. He wouldn't succumb to his anger. His mother had hurt him with his words once again.
"It was foolish of me to come back here," he said, clenching his fist. "I will not allow my daughters to become pawns to the throne."
Nousha slammed her hand on the bed. "Your words hold no weight in this place, Xerxes! You renounced your title as a prince! You've taken everything away from me. All I have left is Persia."
He finally grasped the situation. His mother had no standing in the royal court after his father's passing and his own abdication. The only protection and influence she had came from her granddaughters, who were of Sassanian descent.
The reality was far more unsettling than he had ever imagined. For the longest time, he believed his mother's concerns were solely about upholding tradition and following customs. But it ran much deeper than that. There was a hidden motive driving Nousha, and she was determined to fulfill it, ensuring that one of her granddaughters would ascend to the throne.
"I swear to you, I will never let any of my daughters set foot in Persia."
Barsils Encampment
The trip to the Caspian region was more bearable this time around, due to its close proximity to Persia. And this time, Xena and Gabrielle weren't accosted by Alp warriors. Once they dismounted and brought their horses to the stables, an Alp approached them.
Kida, one of the lead Alps greeted them with a curt bow. "I didn't think I'd ever see you two again. Did you send word that you were coming?"
"No, we were in Persia and decided to visit the tribe," said Xena. "Is Gohar awake? I want her notified that we're here. Oh, and tell her to wake Aurora."
The Alp twisted her face. "Gohar hasn't been in the tribe for over a month. She took the princess with her to the Altai Mountains."
Xena's face morphed, exuding a fury ready to unleash itself. She took Kida by the shoulders and rammed her body into a tree. The exertion of such strength shook Kida. She mistook Xena's age for weakness, but she suddenly was pinned to a tree with a sword held to her throat.
"Are you telling me that my great-granddaughter is halfway across the world? By herself?" she barked, pressing the blade deeper into Kida's throat.
Kida glanced at Gabrielle, pleading for mercy, yet the governor didn't move. She was equally as angry as her warrior wife. "The officer is with her. She is well-guarded." She swallowed hard and sweat dripped down her cheek. "Forgive me, I didn't know the princess wasn't supposed to leave the tribe."
This woman was of no use to her. Kida wasn't to blame for this. Xena released her and sheathed her sword. Turning around, she eyed Gabrielle, who seemed to read her mind. She was much too angry to carry a rational conversation with the Alp. Gabrielle came to her side and offered Kida some water from the wineskin.
"Why did they go to the Altai Mountains?" Gabrielle asked, her voice calm.
"Khaganate," she spoke in between large gulps. "A Khaganate resides there. Gohar has been trying to make an alliance with them for over a year."
"Where is this Khaganate?"
Kida, shaking her head, replied, "I don't know. Only Gohar knows the location."
Overhearing the conversation, Xena closed her eyes, fearing the worst. She knew why Gohar took Aurora to this new Khaganate. She was using Aurora to build an alliance with these foreigners. It was a bold move and could earn her head to be served on a platter. Xena wanted to believe that Gohar had no malicious intent, but she had very little trust in people these days.
Inside Aurora's yurt, Xena sat stilly, numb from the news. She had wondered how Aurora was feeling right now. Laying down on the floor, her hands roamed over the blankets. They still had Aurora's scent. As she closed her eyes, taking in the scent of amber and lavender, a hand rested on her arm.
"Do you think she was forced to go?" she asked.
"She feels comfortable with Gohar. It probably didn't take much convincing," Gabrielle said, rubbing her spouse's arm.
Xena sat upright and felt an unease settle in the pit of her stomach. Being in this yurt, seeing, touching, and smelling all of Aurora's things made her absence all too real. Something about this didn't sit right with her. She turned to Gabrielle and grabbed her hand for comfort.
"We need to find her," she stated, her voice weak. "We need to find out where that Khaganate is."
"That's like looking for a needle in a haystack. The Altai Mountains stretches between three territories. We'll never be able to find her on our own."
"We won't be alone," Xena assured. "The Nezak Huns will help us—Cera will help us. Their tribe is closest to the Altai Mountains."
It was a rational plan and good one, but what if Aurora returned when the search began? She could likely return to the Barsils in one piece, unharmed. Gabrielle knew Xena was not a person to jump to conclusions, but she was a bit surprised by her urgency to find Aurora.
She proposed the idea, "What if we wait another month and see if she comes back?"
Xena's face twisted. "As far as I know, she has been kidnapped. Gohar didn't notify anyone that she was taking Aurora outside the empire's limits. She also is the only person who knows the location."
When it was put so plainly, Gabrielle now understood how serious this was. Nobody could contact Aurora or locate her in case there was an emergency. There was no way of knowing if she was safe.
"We'll have to gather more supplies and food." She noticed the excitement brewing in her wife's eyes. With a smile she added, "How far is Kazakhstan from here? Eight-day trek? I think we can manage that."
Xena leaned over and kissed her generously on the lips. "I love you for reading my mind." She was given a peck on the nose and gently shoved Gabrielle's shoulder. "You realize this is going to be difficult? The Altai Mountains borders China and old Sabir territory."
"Something tells me that you're itching for the challenge," she hinted, nudging Xena's knee. "I'm more worried about what we're going to tell Arielle."
"We'll worry about that when we reach the Nezak tribe."
Rouran Khaganate
The moment Aurora received the summons to venture beyond the palace walls, she found herself perplexed. Stepping into the fields, she discovered Prince Tengri engrossed in his archery practice, shooting at targets with remarkable precision. As she drew nearer, Tengri turned towards her, his face beaming with delight. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the crossbow he wielded, but it was the presence of a second crossbow perched on a pedestal that piqued her curiosity.
Aurora's mind raced with apprehension as she tried to make sense of his intentions. Was this some sort of twisted interrogation tactic? Did he truly plan to thrust an arrow into her chest? The fact that she was isolated from her companions only heightened her suspicions. It seemed improbable that an archery range was the typical backdrop for such interrogations. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was a cunning plan to end her life right here and now. If Tengri questioned anything she said, disposing of her body would be a simple task.
Aurora pushed aside the intrusive thoughts clouding her mind. She had made a vow to Wasifah to keep the sensitive information to herself. The knowledge she possessed was a double-edged sword. Getting involved in foreign affairs was like playing with fire.
"I hear you're good with a crossbow," he stated. "Demonstrate for me."
It wasn't a mere request; it came as a forceful demand. Aurora's hand reached for the crossbow, assessing its weight. This particular crossbow was larger than the ones she usually practiced with, but she believed she could manage it. As she loaded the arrow, she could feel Tengri's intense scrutiny, monitoring her every move. The stakes were high; she had to hit the target. Tengri struck her as someone who thrived on competition, so she was determined to surpass him and prove her skills.
The arrow soared through the air and struck the target. It nearly hit the center. She was quite proud of herself and Tengri seemed impressed.
Tengri reached behind her to grab an arrow. He brushed his fingers along the back of her thigh, causing Aurora's skin to prickle. That was a deliberate move.
He aimed at the target and released the arrow. It hit right outside the center target. The landing didn't come anywhere close to Aurora's. That irritated him slightly but a quick head nod from his guard reminded him to keep his composure.
"It looks like I have competition," he said. "Your mother's archery skills run thick in your blood."
"That's a huge compliment, Your Highness," she said, lowering her eyes.
"Aren't you going to comment on my shot?"
Aurora blinked and thought he was jesting. His serious face said otherwise. "You did good," she said. "With a little more practice, you'll be able hit the center."
Her words did not amuse him, evident by the crease in his forehead. Instead of responding, he walked back toward the palace. Aurora hurried to catch up to his long strides until they reached the courtyards. It was quiet and there were no servants outside. Just the two of them and a guard standing at a fair distance.
"Do you enjoy testing my patience?" he asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"My thoughts are consumed by you, Blue Eyes," he declared, elegantly moving around her. "In my dreams, you are a vision of beauty. I even awaken to the intoxicating scent of anise and jasmine lingering in my chambers," he expressed with eloquence, a smile playing on his lips.
Drawing nearer, he caught a whiff of her hair and gently brushed his fingers against the center of her back. Aurora raised an eyebrow, acutely perceptive of his undeniable attraction towards her. Little did he suspect that the alluring scents he yearned for were not exclusively hers. Unbeknownst to Aurora, the scent of anise had subtly intertwined with her own, as Mara frequently perfumed her long, ebony tresses with anise-scented incense every evening. It was a surprising revelation for Aurora that Tengri had grown so familiar with her scent.
"You aren't wearing any of the blue dresses," he commented, tracing his finger down her arm.
His touch reminded of her a leech, like the ones she'd find on the rocks by the river. Aurora swerved her shoulder to evade the prince's touch. The move caused a noticeable reaction. She had annoyed him.
"I grew tired of the color."
"No matter." He weaved his fingers through her hair. "We'll find you a different color. Do you have one in mind? I bet a dark green would look breathtaking on you."
"You are bold to put your hands on a princess with nobody around," she brashly stated.
Tengri let a chuckle slip and he pointed to the guard. "I made sure we weren't alone." The strands of hair slipped from his fingers. "I want you to dine with me. I'll have a new dress made for you."
Qutlug Khatun watched her son from the window. She tapped her fingers on the stone sill, trailing Tengri's steps near the courtyard entrance. Stepping away from the window, she stood in the middle of the hallway. Her son nearly collided with her, and he jumped back.
"Have you interrogated the Hun princess?" she inquired.
"She knows nothing of the poisoning," he said, bidding to leave. "I shall invite her to dinner. Have a new gown made for her in dark green."
She found it difficult to approve of her son joining in joyful activities amidst the current circumstances. Yet, the promise she made to her husband before his passing lingered in her mind. Despite her personal objections, she understood the importance of her son meeting the Khagan's demands, even in death. Qutlug chose to remain silent, lowering her head in acceptance, and assuring her son that he would receive the princess's dress he coveted.
Tengri kept his composure until he rounded a corner, his back facing his mother. The smile turned into a frown as he stomped his way through the hallways. Drevo, his trusted guard, grasped his shoulder, and told him, "Majesty, you have lied to your mother. You did not interrogate the princess."
"It is obvious the princess has nothing to do with my father's murder," Tengri combatted. "Obeying my father's orders is more important."
"More important than finding the murderer?"
The prince arched an eyebrow. "You're very talkative today, Drevo. I like it better when you talk less." He turned to continue down the hallway. "Put in another order of poppy for me. Make sure it's the good stock, not that shit from eastern China."
Nezak Tribe
Xena and Gabrielle were greeted by a bustling scene as they arrived at the tribe. Despite the early hour, the tribespeople seemed to have embraced the festivities with open arms, their spirits lifted as if they had already partaken in the mirthful delights of spirits and wine. The crackling bonfires illuminated the yurts, casting a warm and inviting glow on the lively dances, melodious songs, and playful games taking place. The vibrant attire of the tribespeople hinted at the purpose of this joyous gathering - a seasonal festival, a time to rejoice in the ever-changing tapestry of nature's seasons.
By the larger bonfire, Arielle's younger brother, Soran, sat comfortably. The moment he caught sight of the two women, he enthusiastically waved in their direction. Xena couldn't tear her gaze away from the prince. Soran was an exact copy of Navaz, and this resemblance triggered a rush of memories from their initial meeting in Balaam.
Soran enveloped Gabrielle in a warm embrace, holding her with such strength that he effortlessly lifted her from the ground. She let out a joyful squeal and playfully slapped his arm, pleading to be released. With a hearty laugh, Soran turned his attention to Xena, greeting her with affectionate kisses on both cheeks.
"Welcome! I've been wanting to come to Pannonia, but I can't seem to find the time. Now I have a little bit of Pannonia right here!" he laughed, hugging them once more. "How's Arielle and the baby? What is she now, a year old? She must be a big girl now, huh?"
Xena smiled, clapping his shoulder. "She's gorgeous."
"Of course she is! My sister birthed her."
It was certainly the wine who was doing most of the talking. Unfortunately, they weren't there to partake in the festivities. There was work to be done.
"Where is Cera in all this chaos?" asked Gabrielle.
The prince wagged his finger with a beaming smile. "Ahh, you haven't come to visit out of your own free will," he said, chuckling. "You've come bearing bad news, eh? That's why you've come!"
Xena grew impatient. "Soran, where is Cera? We're not going to ask a third time."
He thumbed the large yurt a few yards away. "She has been asked not to be disturbed, just to warn you," he whispered in her ear.
Xena's nose wrinkled in disgust as she caught a whiff of the wine-laden breath emanating from Soran. Swiftly, she pushed him away and continued her leisurely walk down the dirt path. The yurt compound loomed ahead, consisting of three yurts, one of which stood out due to its larger size. The area was heavily fortified, with vigilant guards stationed all around. Xena surmised that these soldiers were oblivious to her true identity, as they obstructed her path. Two soldiers stood before her, their javelins crossed, preventing her from advancing any further.
"Entry is forbidden. The princess is indisposed."
Xena's eyebrows furrowed as she heard faint moaning sounds emanating from the yurt. She glanced at Gabrielle, who seemed equally puzzled and shrugged her shoulders in response. Curiosity piqued, Xena removed her gloves and focused her attention on the escalating soft moans until they reached their climax.
She arched an eyebrow. "Is that right? Tell her that her grandmother is here."
The soldier who spoke so directly to her suddenly lost all his confidence. He rushed into the yurt, alerting Cera of the Khanum's presence. Inside the yurt, there were hushed voices, and pitter-patter of feet. Suddenly, a topless man emerged from the yurt, catching Xena and Gabrielle for surprise. The man gave a charming smile and sauntered off.
That man was certainly not Cera's husband.
"The princess will see you now."
After the initial surprise wore off, they entered the yurt and found Mirac standing next to Cera. His chest gently rose and fell, in sync with their own breathing. The strange man who had left the yurt was covered in sweat, as were Mirac and Cera. They were all dressed in silk robes, and Cera's long red hair was slightly disheveled. The whole scenario was strange, and Xena could see that Gabrielle shared her confusion.
Overflowing with excitement, Cera's hands clapped together in sheer delight. She eagerly dashed towards her grandmother, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Xena struggled to hide her smile, thoroughly enjoying the warm embrace. However, as the scent of wine, sweat, and sex wafted from Cera, her smile faded and a frown crept back onto her face.
"Cera, my sweet girl," she said, touching her freckled face.
Now it was Gabrielle's turn to receive Cera's warm welcome. Gabrielle saw the mischief stirring in those amber eyes. Cera, towering over her, trapped her in a hug then swooped her off the ground. Again, for the second time tonight, she squealed, terrified of being dropped.
Xena laughed at the sight of her small wife in the arms of her tall granddaughter. It was a humorous sight, one that Gabrielle desperately wanted to end.
Once her feet touched ground, Gabrielle's heart raced. "That is the last time I'm being picked up! Do you hear me?" she spat, glaring at everyone. Soon, everyone erupted in laughter, including her.
"We're happy to see you two," said Mirac. "But we all know your visit comes with a price."
The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew quiet. Cera's expression turned somber as she moved closer to her husband. Gabrielle couldn't help but notice the sudden change in Cera's demeanor. It was strikingly evident on her face, with her dilated pupils and a deepening frown. Could she possibly still be harboring resentment towards her mother? Was that the reason behind her current state?
"What has Arielle screwed up now?" Cera asked.
Xena could feel the frustration in her granddaughter's hand motions. "What?"
Mirac began to translate, "She said—"
"I know what she said," she snapped. "Why are you behaving like this, Cera?"
"I could've taken Eksama's place. I was trained by her, but I was never considered for the position," Cera answered, ending her sentence with a fist to palm.
Xena ran her tongue smoothly over her teeth, giving a nod of understanding. Taking a cue from her granddaughter, she mirrored her stance, crossing her arms and widening her legs. Although Cera's sense of rejection was genuine, Xena made a strategic decision to divert the discussion, protecting Cera's emotions.
"We can talk about that at another time. Gabrielle and I came with an ask to help us find Aurora," she said.
Cera's features instantly transformed into a gentle expression, her love for her sweet niece shining through. She refused to let Aurora's connection to Arielle cloud her perception of the innocent child.
"What happened to her?" Mirac asked, concerned.
"That's why we need to talk to you both."
A shared understanding passed between Mirac and Cera, their nods speaking volumes. Determined, they embarked on their individual tasks. Mirac swiftly gathered a few floor pillows, while Cera fetched a tray filled with aromatic tea and delectable treats.
Gabrielle whispered to her wife, "Are we going to ask about the man?"
The thought of prying into her granddaughter's romantic affairs made her uneasy. She firmly believed in respecting privacy, but a small part of her couldn't help but wonder.
"We'll ask later," she muttered.