"Well, I think we're all here, so why don't we go ahead and start the meeting?" Gabrielle suggested brightly.

The assorted warriors milling about responded by finding themselves seats in the circle of chairs in the center of the room. Callisto, glowering at them all with undisguised loathing, was already in hers- shackled to it, in fact, at the wrists and ankles, as well as by a thick leather band which held her head immobile. Helpless to do anything except lash them with a burning glance and a scathing tongue, she constantly but surreptitiously tested her bonds, hoping against hope that she'd eventually be able to work her way free. Then she'd kill every last one of them slowly and painfully.

She knew she'd be wise to hold her tongue, to try to lull them into a false sense of security, but it was a vow much more easily made than kept, especially under the provocation that was about to begin.

"Who would like to start us off?" Gabrielle asked, holding a chakram aloft. Under the annoying rules of this gathering only the person holding it was supposed to speak before the group.

"I will," said a dark, beefy warrior as he claimed it. "Hello, my name is Draco, and I'm a warlord."

"Hello, Draco," everyone except Callisto replied. Her welcome was a little less friendly, though just as sincere. "A eunuch named after a dragon? How quaint."

But Draco continued on as if he hadn't heard her insult.

"It all started when I was a boy. My father, a blacksmith, almost beat me to death with his hammer when I told him I didn't want to follow in his footsteps when I grew up. I wanted to go to Athens and be a lounge singer! He just refused to see who good I felt singing show tunes in a while jumpsuit and a feather boa. He called me," the warlord continued with a heart wrenching sob, "A panty twist! I've never twisted a panty in my life!"

"No, I'm sure you had some big, strong man to do that for you," Callisto said with venomous sweetness, unable to help herself in the face of such absolute spinelessness.

But the rest of Draco's auditors murmured sympathetically. His closest neighbor, the warlord Barbarus, even pulled the tear stricken man into a supportive hug, helping Draco to pull himself back together and go on with his story.

"It seemed like he just didn't understand me," he continued with a sniffle. "So I gave up my dream of becoming a shining star, and became a warlord instead to try and make him proud of me. I maimed, I pillaged, and I defiled, all so my father would love me."

"And did it work?" Gabrielle asked gently.

"I don't know," Draco told her as he broke into renewed tears. "He... he... he died before I could see him again."

"An accident in his forge?" Xena asked with touching concern.

"No, he... he..."

"Spit it out, you wimp!" snarled Callisto.

"Take your time. Breathe," Gabrielle recommended soothingly as she patted his hand to help ease his suffering.

Draco drew in a few deep, hiccoughing breaths, then gathered his strength to reveal the gory details. "He died singing in a talent show! Somebody threw rotten tomatoes at him, and he slipped and fell into the orchestra pit. The feather boa he was wearing around his neck snagged on a nail as he fell and he was hanged!"

"How fitting," Callisto remarked with vicious glee. "May you follow in his clumsy footsteps. Oh, and if you need any help hitting the high notes, I'll be happy to help in any way I can. Does anybody have a dull pair of scissors?"

As always, they just ignored her. Instead, everyone started clucking sympathetically like the overgrown chickens they obviously were, making Callisto want to vomit. She actually heaved a couple of times when Gabrielle called for a group hug (centered around Callisto's chair since she could rise out of it to meet them. Or run screaming into the hills, for that matter.)

"Get Off Me! OFF, YOU SONS OF BACCHAE!" she shrieked as she was enfolded into the sappy embrace. She rocked in her chair violently, desperately trying to fear herself from her bonds through the sheer will power of her disgusted fury, but to no avail. She was forced to endure the oh so nauseating "friendly cuddle" inflicted upon her by these idiots.

But when they finally gave her some breathing space Gabrielle gazed upon Callisto sadly, saying, "Now Callisto, you know the rules. I'm afraid you need a time out."

And with that, her tormentor gently but firmly placed a muzzle around the warrior queen's jaws, stealing even the minimal freedom to tell them all how much she despised them and their miserable soul searching. She tried snapping at Gabrielle's fingers hovering just out of reach of her teeth, but the irritating blond was too deft in her work, leaving Callisto absolutely no consolation for this torture.

Draco in the meantime passed the chakram denoting his time of confession to the next warrior ready to bare his innermost feelings- Ares, God of War.

"Hello, my name is Ares, and I'm the Warlord of warlords," he announced.

"Hello, Ares," responded all those present (that weren't gagged at the time, that is).

"Family problems are at the root of my addiction to conquest, just like Brother Draco. My mother raised me almost as a single parent, but she only paid attention to me when she wanted to score off Zeus. My father was almost never around to see it, though. The only time I could get his undivided attention was when I was acting out- the fall of Babylon, the siege of Tyre, the destruction of Carthage.

"Then he'd show up and tell me that I should be more like Athena who's the Goddess of Wisdom as well as War," he explained.

Don't forget Weaving, Callisto thought with a sneer for both War Gods.

Ares continued his sob story. "'Use your head', he said. 'Be more like your sister- only kill those who refuse to worship the Pantheon,'" he continued bitterly. "Couldn't he see that I only did it because I lacked a strong male role model in my life? I knew what I was doing was wrong, but part of me didn't care. I thought that negative attention was better than being ignored for all eternity.

"After the fall of Carthage I had Zeus looking over my shoulder pretty regularly, and for a time I thought I could build a real relationship with my father. We could go fishing together, or something. But it only lasted for a few measly decades. Then my half-brother Hercules was born, and it was all over for me. All Zeus could think about was Alcmene's precious son."

Callisto thought she'd seen it all, but the sight of the supposedly virile God of War dissolving into a pathetic little emo was lame beyond all measure known to mortal man. She longed to tell him what a loser he was, but that b*tch Gabrielle still had her in her "time out" with no relief in sight.

But wait! Was that a blessed bit of slack in her handcuffs that hadn't been there before?! Could she possibly work her way free...? Redoubling her efforts, she schooled her face into a calm mask, hoping the little pest running the meeting would be fooled by her changed demeanor into believing it was safe to remove her gag. In truth, the warrior's gleaming eyes would probably have betrayed her under close scrutiny, but everyone was too busy repeating the Serenity Prayer along with Ares to notice.

But it didn't take long for Gabrielle to spot her apparent decision to demonstrate a more positive behavior pattern and release the strap clamping Callisto's jaws shut.

"Good, you seem to be in a much happier place than you were a few minutes ago. But of you'd like some extra anger management counseling, Marcus Furius is starting some seminars later this week," her little blond nemesis told her.

"That'th wight," Furius lisped. "I think I could hep you awot."

"Weawy? Gee, that would be thuper!" Callisto told him mockingly.

Furius turned bright red at her taunt and had to be restrained by Xena and Vishus from going after her. After he gave up the struggle with them he shut his eyes and began counting while his comrades gave him plenty of verbal encouragement.

"Oopth, thowy. I mean, sorry," Callisto said with a cheery smile. Drawing first blood on a foe always made her feel much better.

Gabrielle regarded her suspiciously but let it go, much to Callisto's relief. If that witch made her sing "Kumbaya" one more time...

Another warlord took up the chakram looking to get the meeting back on track.

"Theodorus, would you like to take this opportunity to share your feelings with all of us?" Gabrielle prompted encouragingly.

"Yeah," Callisto's former henchman said huskily, then visibly steeled himself for the emotional ordeal he was about to begin. "Hello, my name is Theodorus, and I'm a warlord."

"Hello, Theodorus," came the reply. Callisto silently mouthed a few different words, but either no one was a good enough lip reader to know what she's actually said, or they'd decided to cut her some slack since she wasn't actively disrupting the meeting at that particular moment. A pity, she would have liked to have seen the warrior's reaction to being called a ball-less wonder, but that would have to wait for a more opportune time. Until then, she'd keep working on her fetters, and hopefully tune out the BS he was about to spew.

"It was love that brings me here today," he began. "At least, I thought it was love. I mean, sure I liked to see the fear in people's eyes. It helped build my self esteem, which was low since I was always called fat as a child by my peers. And the loot was nice, too. It helped me to open an animal shelter for abandoned pets, my only real friends. Remember, dogs, cats, and gerbils are people, too!

"But I never would have slaughtered all those innocent people, and sometimes their livestock, if I hadn't fallen for this woman," Theodorus insisted, carefully not looking at Callisto, the not so secret object of his affection.

"She was a warlord, too, so on a Friday night we'd go out and have a night on the town together, fighting the townsfolk, that is. It felt like it was a solid love connection, so I told myself a little skirmish here and there couldn't hurt. But soon the skirmishes turned into all out war. It got so I couldn't make it through the day without a battle. I had to have that first fight before breakfast, even if it was just a tavern brawl, and by noon if I hadn't had a real fight I started feeling shaky and sick. I tried cutting back, I even went cold turkey, but I just couldn't take it."

A number of the warlords listening nodded as he spoke, having been through the same stages in their time. Callisto just stopped listening. She'd heard it too many times before, and it was just as weak the fiftieth time as it was the first. She had something much more important to do. She'd freed one hand right under their snotty noses, so now she just needed to release the other and the rest would be child's play. If the child in question entertained herself by torturing small furry animals, that is.

Almost there... she thought eagerly, already making a list of the order in which she'd kill these twerps. They all deserved to suffer excruciatingly, but after forcing her to come here to these Gods blasted meetings for so long Gabrielle had to top the list.

"... I thought I'd put this all behind me when she was sent to prison, but it didn't last. I needed that conquest," Theodorus admitted sadly.

Just give me a minute and I'll give you what you really need, Callisto thought with rabid anticipation. She wormed her other hand free, then lay some loose straps over her wrists so that she would appear to still be confined. She was ready to put her plan into action at last.

"Can I have the chakram?" she asked with the simulation of innocence. Nobody honestly wanted to listen to Theodorus' whiny blathering, after all.

"You'd like to testify? That's wonderful, you're making a real breakthrough," Gabrielle encouraged. "But what do you say?"

Or else I'll rip your liver out through your eyeballs, Callisto silently thought as her lips were forced to form the sickening words she had to say instead. "May I have the chakram, pretty please? With honey on top?"

Callisto's wheedling was successful, to her deep pleasure. Gripping it tightly, she prepared to give them a piece of her mind before she slaughtered them all.

"Hello, my name is Callisto, and I think every last one of you is lower than pond scum." She didn't wait for them to return her salutation. Perhaps she'd allow them time to bid both her and the world farewell, though. Using the chakram to snap through the chains at her ankles, she then tore the head band away from her brow. She leaped up, drew her arm back and aimed the deadly missile she planned to hurl straight at Gabrielle's tempting throat.

But before she could do so everyone there started laughing uproariously! Somehow Callisto in her uncontrolled wrath was the most hilarious sight they'd ever seen!

"What are you morons laughing at?!" she snarled. "Don't you know that I'm going to kill you all?! You're the most nauseating, pathetic sheep I've ever seen! Each of you used to make the world tremble in hate and fear, and now you're all nothing but a joke! I should be the one laughing at you!"

And laugh she did, a hysterical sound that frightened even her. But she had lost none of her desire to see their swift demise, laughing all the way to Tartarus or no. The last laugh would be hers, if she had to deliver them to Charon personally!

The laughing only got louder, and the warlords nudged each other in their glee, pointing at Callisto as they giggled.

Callisto looked down, following their pointing. "What's so damned fuh..."

She broke off when she discovered the sight that had them all so mirthful. Then she shrieked, "I'm naked?! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!"



Callisto wrenched herself awake. She heard mocking laughter echoing in her head. A bolt of fire flared from her fingertips, but the mischievous Olympian God she targeted fled too rapidly even for Callisto's Godly powers, leaving her to rage impotently, "I'll get you for this, Morpheus, I SWEAR IT! I will become your worst nightmare!"

Strike One

Love was in the air, Gabrielle wrote.

Oh, not literally. Aphrodite was probably schlepping around in one of her many temples checking out the various goodies (and the inevitable fish) offered to the Olympian as a bid for her notoriously fickle favor. And Cupid, Psyche, and their fiendishly mischievous son Bliss were all away from Greece entirely on a family vacation, according to her friend Hercules.

So what could explain this magical feeling of the anticipation of Love waiting right around the next corner?

"Maybe that cute guy standing over there," Xena suggested in answer to Gabrielle's written query, reading over the short blonde's shoulder.

"Xena!" Gabrielle exclaimed, snatching up her scroll. "You know I hate it when anyone reads my work before I'm finished with it!"

"Relax, will you? You've barely started, so all I've read is a couple of sentences. Besides, I think your "Muse" is about to get distracted by that guy. Or should I say the sight of that guy and me!" Xena finished with an appreciative grin at the stud.

"You?! Are you out of your mind? He's definitely not your type. You go for warriors, not farmers," she argued dismissively. "Just look at those big brown eyes. He's clearly the sensitive type, which means if he's anyone's he's mine!"

"That prime hunk of beefcake? Come on, Gabrielle, you know you're not into muscles like I am. It's obvious he's my type. After all, there are more places for "action" than a battlefield," she finished wickedly.

Gabrielle turned pink as a few of the many possibilities occurred to her fertile imagination but refused to be deterred. "Well, maybe we'll just have to let him decide. Just promise me you won't spoil things when he chooses me."

"An easy enough promise to make since he's going to pick me," Xena stated confidently, "but you can have my word if I have yours."

"Done!" Gabrielle readily agreed. She was eager to see Xena eat a little crow. "Let's go see which of us he likes better!"

"Right beside ya!"

Eying each other warily, they strolled over to their well muscled bone of contention. It was most definitely out of character for the two women to fall for the same guy, but neither had any intention of conceding. An outside observer might think it wasn't actually about the guy at all, but their own competitive natures. That outsider might be right.

"Hey there, you new in town?" Xena asked brightly. Considering she and Gabrielle had just arrived in Mytilene that morning it wasn't the most inspired choice of ice breakers, but she doubted he would hold it against her. She just wanted to get a word in before her Bardic sidekick grabbed the spotlight for herself, and had said the first thing that had popped into her mind.

Gabrielle wasn't impressed.

"Oh yeah, like no one's ever used that one before," she muttered. She didn't know which was worse, the competition or the cliche. She'd decide after she won the guy for herself. Meanwhile she just rolled her eyes and attempted to reclaim the initiative. "Hi, my name is Gabrielle and she's Xena."

She kind of mumbled that last bit, but his hearing was just fine. Fortunately the news that he was making the acquaintance of a legend didn't seem to phase him. In fact, his focus rested directly on her!

"It's nice to finally meet you," he told her with shy warmth. She was right, he was the sensitive type. It was all Gabrielle could do not to throw a gloating look of triumph at her partner and rival. There'd be plenty of time to rub in her victory in later. "I've read some of your scrolls. They're really wonderful. You have a true gift with words."

Gabrielle blushed at the sweet young man's compliment. Since Xena never read her scrolls (except when she was trying to be annoying and read over her shoulder) it was nice to know she had a more appreciative audience in this cutie. But Gabrielle's triumph proved to be premature.

"And you're even more amazing than Gabrielle describes in person," their newfound "friend" told the warrior princess in turn. Xena returned his smile, impressed that the subject of his amazement didn't appear to reside solely beneath her ample breastplate the way it did with most guys. He kept eye contact as if he saw her as a person, not a sex object or a threat to be feared and avoided. Of course, there were even some twisted creeps out there that saw her as both at the same time, but in spite of her "dominatrix leather look" and her bullwhip she wasn't into that kind of thing. Although there had been that time in Sybaris...

Her slightly kinky memories were rudely interrupted by an imperious, rising call from within the market's crowd. "Hor-TENSE!"

The lovely young man immediately turned towards the author of the shrill cry and readily waved her over.

"Mother, here are two nice ladies I'd like you to meet," he told his dam. "This is Gabrielle, and she's Xena. Ladies, this is my mother."

Hortense's mother glared at them almost accusingly. The crone was severely dressed, emphasizing the fact that all the woman's curves had been pared down into angles. Her pruney face probably would have smoothed out a bit if she'd been sucking on a lemon, but not by much. She circled the women, freely labeling them as harlots and pointing out to all and sundry their many flaws, real or imagined. To suggest that the pot that was as dark as midnight in Tartarus was calling the kettle black was the least of her hypocrisy.

"That puny little thing?" the old bat sniffed at Gabrielle. "Hortense, how many times do I have to tell you? With hips like that she'll never be a good breeder."

If Gabrielle hadn't been so flabbergasted at the criticism she might have decked the witch. She was still considering decking Xena, who found the derogatory remarks about her companion all too amusing, Hades take her! As it was all she could do was feel relieved that Prince Charming's evil harpy of a mother didn't consider her worthy of her son's regard.

Then the old hag turned her insulting perusal on the warrior princess, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was courting a slow, painful death.

"This one will do, I suppose," she admitted finally. Her reluctant concession sounded as if Hecate's chariot had forcibly dragged it out of her. "At least this wench has wide enough hips to give you lots of babies, and she looks as strong as an ox as well, though you'd better get those boots off her and leave her barefoot before you take her for your mate. Just have her carry Buttercup home for you and if she makes it you'll have my blessing."

Her tone suggested that a blessing wrested from her pinched lips was more to be feared than a curse from all three of the Furies. Xena, having previously experienced one such curse had no desire to compare the two. Still, she had to ask the one question that bothered her.

"Buttercup?" she wondered aloud. She couldn't credit the dried up old harridan calling anything by such a fluffy name, unless it was her pet spider.

"My favorite sow," Hortense clarified gamely. "Would you like to try?"

The sensitive, muscular moron actually looked hopeful. Apparently "good breeders" were slim pickings in these parts.

Xena glared at Gabrielle, who wasn't even trying to hide her giggles. "Sorry. I don't do pigs. Come on, Gabrielle."



Strike Two



"Now we know where he got all those muscles," Xena commented dryly, refusing to admit her humiliation.

"Don't forget his "sensitivity"," Gabrielle pointed out with the merest hint of self mockery. She had always been better at laughing at herself than Xena, but this was ridiculous. "Buttercup, for Zeus' sake!"

"Good thing all men aren't all like that."

"I'll say. Look at that one! He's checking me out," Gabrielle preened.

"You?! Are you blind? He's looking straight at me!" Xena insisted huffily.

"Shh! He's coming over," Gabrielle hissed in annoyance. That was just so typical of Xena, always thinking she was the center of everyone's attention. "Let's see who he talks to first."



"Hey, we're all grown-ups, right? I can't see any harm in having a little grown-up fun! Believe me, I've got plenty for both of you!" Lothario bragged with a leer that distorted the superficial beauty of his face into the salacious mask of a satyr. "You know what the Bards say, turnabout is foreplay!"

"What Bard says that?" Gabrielle demanded with disgust.

"Well, I did read this book from India once..." Xena began helpfully.

"Never mind, I don't want to know," Gabrielle broke in primly. Oh, maybe she'd ask Xena for the details later just to satisfy her curiosity, but not while this repulsive little lecher was around to take it as encouragement. "And I have absolutely no desire for you to show me anything!" she emphasized as lover-boy began fumbling with his tunic to provide "proof" of his substantial "assets".

Then she clobbered him with her staff when the oversexed, bastard son of Priapus failed to take the hint.

"Ouch," Xena commented, though with a distinct lack of sympathy.

"Yeah, well, now he knows that mine is bigger," Gabrielle said airily, twirling the only staff that interested her at the moment.

"And you know how to use it much better," Xena praised her sincerely.

"I had a good teacher," she stated modestly. "Now I know why a fighting staff is the favorite weapon of so many Amazons."

The women shared a laugh and left their importunate suitor lying in a heap in the dust.



Strike Three

"Look, there are plenty of good looking men out there. We don't need to fight over them," Gabrielle stated reasonably.

"I feel the same way," Xena assured her companion.

"Ooo! Look at those two!" Gabrielle told her partner, trying not to make her interest too obvious. Xena shouldn't have any difficulty figuring out which two she meant.

"Okay, you spotted them first," said Xena. "D'you want dibs on the blond or the brunette?"

"Well, I guess... the blond?" she hazarded. They were both cute, but the brunette seemed to be more Xena's type from what she could see from across the market's square.

"That works for me," Xena agreed. Either would have been okay, but the blond was just a little short for her taste.

"They're coming over," Gabrielle whispered urgently, and tried to appear nonchalant. Xena, on the other hand gave the two hunks a challenging smile.

"Ladies, hello. Are you new in town?" the brunette asked.

It was all Gabrielle could do to suppress a snort of amusement. He was Xena's type, all right. The two seemed to have gone to the same school of lame pick-up lines. Xena didn't seem to notice.

"As a matter of fact we are. Care to show us the sights?" she purred invitingly.

The blond didn't seem to like her warm response to the other man. He swatted his darker haired companion. "Hey Demetrius, I told you I had dibs on the brunette!"

The other guy smacked him back. "I was just being polite, Lysander. I told you, I want the blond. You can have the brunette or anyone else for all I care!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

The two neanderthals started throwing punches in earnest. Xena and Gabrielle watched their macho, egotistical display for a moment out of sheer disbelief and then looked at each other.

"Men!" the pronounced in sororal disgust and left he two idiots to their pointless chauvinistic conflict.

"Who needs 'em?" Xena snarled rhetorically to her best friend.

"Not me!" Gabrielle vowed firmly.

"You go, gurrls!" an androgynous voice told them as he/she left the shadows of one of the market's stalls and linked arms with the pair. "What a complete waste of time. We women don't need a bunch of hairy knuckle draggers around to have a good time. Come with me, girlfriends and I'll show you where it's really at in Mytilene!" the woman, by now Gabrielle was almost positive it was a woman, told them.

"Yeah? Where's that?" Xena raised with a raised eyebrow. She'd seen plenty of this type of female around over the years.

"A little place on the outside of town called The Meow Mix," their guide informed them. "By the way, my name is Sappho."

"Sappho, as in the poet?" Gabrielle asked excitedly. "I'm Gabrielle, the Bard of Potidea."

"That's me, the Poet of Leisbos," her new friend agreed. "I'm sure we have lots in common."

Gabrielle nodded happily. It was always great to meet a cunning linguist like the famous Poet. But why was Xena smirking?

"Cortese's army will be here tomorrow," Xena told her brothers. "We have to be ready."

"Are you out of your mind?!" her elder brother Toris asked her incredulously. "We have to get out of here!"

"What, just give up? Toris, if we do that we might stay alive a little longer, but what then? Live like slaves, cowering in fear for the rest of our stinkin' lives knowing that any scum-sucking warlord can take anything he wants without a fight whenever the mood strikes him? Show Cortese that that there's no one in Amphipolis with the guts to stand up to him?" Xena demanded with fierce passion. The intensity in her icy blue eyes drew all the listening men in her mother's tavern into sharing her righteous indignation. The infectious confidence she projected effortlessly bound them all together in determination. "No! It stops right here, right now. If we all stand together we can defeat not only Cortese but anyone else who would dare threaten our home."

The men gathered in the tavern rumbled their agreement, mesmerized by her charismatic leadership. Each man felt at that moment that he was ready to follow this young woman they'd all seen grow up before their eyes to the gates of Hades if she but asked. All except Toris.

"Lyceus, you try and talk some sense into her," he insisted to his younger brother. "Maybe she'll listen to you."

"Sorry Toris, I'm with her on this one," Lyceus told him. "She's right. Running won't help us in the long run. That'll just tell them that they can push us around and we'll just lie back and take it. Besides, if we let them loot the town a lot of us won't make it through the winter. At least if we fight we won't be dying for nothing."

"You're both fools, and you're going to get a lot of good people killed because of it. But I'll be damned if I'm going to stay here and watch it happen," he raged impotently.

"Where are you going ?" Xena asked him.

"I'm taking mother and anyone else who doesn't have a death wish up to the hills where they'll be safe," Toris spat out angrily. "Don't even think about trying to stop me."

"I don't have the time to waste even if I wanted to. But I have no intention of stopping you. I'm happy to get all the noncombatants and cowards out of Amphipolis and out of my way," she told him with icy contempt. "The rest of us are going to stay and defend our homes against these bastards."

Toris' hands clenched into tight fists at her scathing words. If he had the time to waste he gladly would have proven to her personally just how un-cowardly he was, but time wasn't on his side. He had a job to do. Xena was going to get half of their townsfolk killed and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it. All he could do now was get out of town and convince as many people as possible to join him. She would never leave, but he had to try Lyceus one more time.

"Lyceus, if you stay here you're just going to end up dead," he told his little brother pleadingly.

"Maybe so, but at least I'll take some of them with me and make the world a better place because of it," he replied calmly. His dispassionate response was even more maddening than Xena's angry call for glory.

"Leave, Toris. There's nothing for you here," Xena ordered her elder sibling flatly.

Toris twisted away and punched the wall of their family's tavern with a scream of frustration, but the pain in his bruised knuckles couldn't overpower the tearing agony in his heart. In spite of all their many fierce arguments he loved his sister and brother, and he knew that in a matter of hours he was going to lose half of his remaining family in a hopeless cause. Didn't they understand that they were going to die for nothing? Crops could be regrown with each new spring and towns could be rebuilt, but no one returned from the land of the dead.

Admitting defeat, he stalked furiously out of the tavern. His siblings watched him go wordlessly. Their failure to convince him to stay and fight was just as painful as his was to him. They knew he believed he was doing the right thing, just as they did. Only time would prove which of them was right.

"Gee, do you think we pissed him off?" Lyceus asked with a look of wide eyed innocence. That look had always fooled their mother when she attempted to discover the author of any bit of mischief in her household, but it never fooled Xena. It had gotten her into trouble too many times to count.

"I'd say 'pissed off' would be an understatement," she answered dryly. Forget about him, we don't have time to waste on it. There'll be plenty of time to kiss and make up after we send Cortese and his gang packing."



"Okay, we know Cortese will be coming at us through the Strymon pass. That means we have to position your force on the northwest side of town, Lyceus," she told her brother.

"You can count on us," he promised her.

"Maphias, you'll be in the foothills north of town with everyone we can mount on horseback. When Cortese hit's the town wait for my signal to sweep down on his flank," she ordered her brother's best friend, pointing out his assigned position on her map.

"I'll be in the woods southwest of town with our main body of infantry," she continued. "When the time is right we'll both attack them in a pincer movement and crush them between us," she predicted confidently.

"That sounds good and all, but they'll still outnumber us and they do this sort of thing for a living. Most of us have never actually raised a sword in anger," Maphias reminded her a bit nervously. He agreed with them that they had no choice about the coming battle, but the idea of killing and maybe even being killed still intimidated him.

"I know that," Xena responded evenly," but we can turn that into an advantage if we arrange things the right way. His scouts will almost certainly have seen Toris evacuating the town. Cortese will probably think that anyone staying behind is nothing but a rearguard fighting a suicide mission to give the rest time to escape. So we'll use that assumption against him. Lyceus' company of old men and boys will suck him into our trap and you and I will hammer their flanks. We can wipe them out before they know what's hit them if we strike hard enough with the first punch."

"Just like a bully in a tavern brawl," Lyceus agreed with a grin.

"Hang on a second. It sounds as if you intend to use Lyceus and his men as bait!" Maphias objected. "You can't throw them away like that!"

"If we want to stop Cortese we have to do it," Xena stated shortly. She didn't like it either, but there was no other choice except running away like Toris.

"But Lyceus..."

"Lyceus in a big boy," she interrupted sharply. "He can take care of himself long enough for us to make our move to help him. He's the keystone to the whole plan. I wouldn't have given him that job if I didn't think he could do it. So unless you're volunteering to take his place, keep quiet."

"Yeah Maphias, quit worrying about me. We'll all be facing our share of trouble before the day is done. All that matters is stopping Cortese and saving our town. If you've got a better plan we're all ears, but otherwise we'll do it just as Xena says."

Maphias subsided into an unhappy silence. Lyceus was right, Xena's plan was their only real chance of winning. He wouldn't still be in Amphipolis preparing to risk his neck if he didn't believe in her. Unfortunately he was still afraid, and if he concentrated on his fear for Lyceus' safety he'd have less time to worry about himself. But he couldn't forget that a lot of his townspeople were going to die even if they succeeded- people he'd known all of his life. The thought of ruthlessly sacrificing even one of them, especially the young man who had been as close as a brother to him twisted his gut with nausea and pain.

"All right, you've got your orders. Move out!" she told him coldly. They didn't have any time for doubts about her battle plan. Just as important, she couldn't allow any confusion about who was in charge or they'd shatter into pieces that Cortese could sweep up at his ease. Divided, they were sure to be conquered.

"Yes ma'am," he replied stiffly and then left the tavern to brief his men. Xena eyed him carefully as he left, a hint of sadness unnoticed by anyone else glistening in her eyes. But then she banished that emotion from her expression through an act of will. She couldn't allow herself from showing any doubts either. "Don't worry, Xena. He'll do what he has to do when the time comes," Lyceus assured her, a comforting hand resting briefly on her shoulder. "We all will."

"He'd better," she returned grimly. Because if he didn't Xena would make his failure his dying regret.



Xena was finally alone in the tavern. All the noncombatants, including her mother had cleared out of Amphipolis a little over an hour ago, and all of Xena's soldiers had left at the same time to disguise their purpose. Xena remained in the tavern which she had turned into her command post.

She swallowed a swig of wine as she studied her map yet again. Was there anything she was missing, any advantage she had failed to seize? Her father, a mercenary soldier, had once told her that sometimes the smallest detail was the difference between winning and losing. Xena was ready to let men under her command die to achieve victory but she refused to let them die needlessly. Unfortunately, her inexperience as a general made that possibility all too likely if she wasn't careful as well as clever.

She strode to the other side of the table to study her plan of attack from another angle. Once she reached her destination she froze. She hadn't seen anyone, but she was certain that there was someone behind her. She tried to relax her suddenly tense shoulders and took a deeper drink from her wine cup. Then she spun around, grabbed a nearby candle and sprayed a mouthful of flaming alcohol in the direction of the intruder. He shouted a curse in surprise and dropped beneath a heavy oaken table for protection from the blast.

"Whoa! I'm not the enemy!" her uninvited guest informed her, his empty hands raised to show her that he didn't have a weapon drawn.

She allowed him to stand up slowly and studied him. He looked like a typical mercenary- scuffed black leather armor, dirty brown hair and a jagged scar over one eye. His weapons, on the other hand, appeared to be in prime condition in spite of the fact that they'd obviously been well used. Xena had seen plenty of his type over the many years that she'd worked in her mother's tavern. Her own father Atrius had been a lot like him, or so she remembered. She hadn't actually seen her father in years. This man, however was a complete stranger. Was he one of Cortese's men trying to spy on her before the warlord attacked? The young woman doubted it. If he was a spy he wouldn't be carelessly wandering around the middle of town picking daisies for anyone to see. So that left her wondering who he was and what he was doing there.

Well, there was one easy way to find out- she'd try asking him. And if she liked the answer maybe she wouldn't have a squad of her toughest soldiers ask him again.

"My name is Straton," he told her readily," and I'm here in Amphipolis to fight with you if you'll let me."

"Why would you want to do that?" Xena asked the stranger suspiciously. "We're fighting because we don't have a choice. What do you expect to get out of this? Amphipolis can't afford to hire mercenaries to do our fighting for us, and we may very well end up dead for our trouble."

"You can't ever truly lose by deciding to stand up for yourself, no matter what the outcome," he replied with a warrior's philosophy that echoed in Xena's heart. "But you're right, I do usually expect to make a profit when I fight. Fortunately for you, I don't always measure profit by coins. I'm here to fight Cortese for my own personal reasons."

"Your own 'personal' reasons, hmm?" she repeated. She wasn't sure why, but she believed him. "Okay, you can tag along with me and my men. The Gods know we can use every sword we can get. Just remember that I want you by my side so that I can keep an eye on you, and at the first hint of treachery you're a dead man."

Straton smiled widely, and Xena felt a pull of attraction for the battered mercenary. She'd always had a thing for bad boys. "Keep two eyes on me if you like," he said with a roguish wink. "There's nothing I'd like better than the chance to fight at your side. In fact, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

Xena snorted scornfully at his line but deep down inside she couldn't deny that the idea had it's... attraction. She had just met the man, but already she felt more comfortable with the professional soldier than with any of the men from her hometown. Anyone she had ever known, as a matter of fact, except her brother Lyceus. She shook off the seductive feeling as best as she could. Pleasant though it was she didn't have time for any man, no matter how attractive, with her very first battle looming ominously in her near future. "All that matters to me is protecting Amphipolis from Cortese and anyone else looking to take what is ours."

Straton shrugged with another one of his winning smiles. "Sure, whatever you say. But maybe after all of this is over you'll be ready to start thinking about the future and what it could bring you. I'll be around when you do," he promised.

"I'll be sure and let you know when the time comes," Xena replied with a crooked smile of her own. Who could say what the future would bring? But whatever it was, she felt ready to meet it head on.



The battle went exactly as Xena had planned. Her makeshift army chased away the scattered remains of Cortese's men after inflicting quite a bit of damage to his gang. He and other parasites like him would think twice before they dared mess with Amphipolis again.

She returned to the tavern with her men to celebrate their victory when the mop-up was all but over. She'd lost a number of her own soldiers in the battle, particularly from Lyceus' weaker company, but she refused to dwell on their deaths. Men inevitably died whether in war or in peace, and a good commander had to accept a certain number of casualties as the price of doing business. She was toasting their victory with Straton and the rest of her men when Maphias found her. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Maphias exclaimed urgently.

"Well, you found me. Take a load off and have a drink. You earned it," she invited him with an expansive wave.

"Xena, you have to come with me now!" he told her impatiently while dragging her to her feet. "Lyceus is dying, and if we don't hurry you won't get a chance to say goodbye!"

The intoxicated flush drained from Xena's face. "Dying? How?! I know he wasn't seriously hurt during the battle!"

"It happened during the mop-up after Cortese's retreat. One of his men was hiding in the smithy. Lyceus spotted him, so he pretended to surrender. Then the bastard gut stabbed your brother and ran away," he informed her as he dragged her to her brother's side. "Come on!"

He hurried back to the smithy with Xena hot on his heels, but it was too late. Lyceus, her baby brother and best friend, was already dead. Xena stared down at her brother's twisted corpse. It was obvious from the rictus of pain graven on his youthful face that he'd died in agony. She'd been congratulating herself and swilling wine while Lyceus, the only person in the whole world who had truly loved and understood her had died alone. She felt numb at the sight of his blood-stained corpse, but she knew that a blazing inferno of anger and remorse raged beneath the surface.

Xena couldn't have said how long she'd been staring at him when Straton came and stood beside her. "It wasn't your fault, Xena," he told her quietly. "If anyone is to blame it's Cortese and all the other warlords who won't be satisfied until the entire world crawls beneath their boot heels to escape the slaughter of those they love. You have to stop that. Use your righteous anger, don't let it paralyze you. Just remember that Lyceus was a warrior and that died a hero's death. "But it's up to you where you go from here. If you want Amphipolis to remain safe you have to be ready to do more than just defend it. You have to be proactive, take the fight directly to your enemies and attack them before they can attack you. That means raising a standing army and creating a buffer zone between Amphipolis and the rest of the world," he told her, a quiet intensity shining in his dark eyes. "If you want, I'll help."

Xena met his gaze with his own, hard despite the unshed tears glittering in their icy depths. "You're right. I know what I have to do for Lyceus and my home. But I don't need your help. I don't need anyone."

Xena took one last look at her brother, her tears at last beginning to flow from her eyes and then walked away, never looking back.

The man who had called himself Straton watched her leave. When she was out of sight his form shifted, flowing into a new shape nothing like the man she'd seen. He was now a tall, powerful man with a neat black goatee. Xena didn't know it yet, but she had just met her destiny and the one who would bring it to her: Ares, God of War.



She will be mine, Ares gloated confidently. She was full of fire and rage, the fuel of greatness. Releasing it on the world would be child's play. He would patiently cultivate the seed he'd sown until it grew into a blazing inferno that would consume the entire world.

Killing Lyceus had been the key, he congratulated himself. With him dead Xena would never stop searching the world for revenge. Unfortunately for her peace of mind, she'd never find it. But peace was overrated, the pacifier of the weak. He had given her something far greater. Lyceus hadn't been killed by one of Cortese's men. Ares had done it himself. She didn't know it yet, but the young man's blood had forged a link between them that could never be broken. Her brother had been the only thing standing between her and glory. Ares had only done what he had needed to do to free her to meet it. And maybe someday he'd tell her that, let her know just how much she owed to him.

But for now he'd just watch and wait. It was a good sign that she had rejected his help. The strongest trees in the forest stood alone. She wouldn't have been the one he was waiting for if she had allowed him to take control of her destiny willingly. A leader had to stand alone.

He'd just have to manipulate her behind the scenes to get her where she needed to be. He smiled evilly as he envisioned her glorious future. It was certain to make a good show.

This is a blog to celebrate the birthday of our good friend and compatriot boromirbeauty! Remember, BB, it's not another year older, it's another year of successful accomplishments, new friends made and old friends sustained, as well as challenges met and faced down.:D You go, gurrl!;) Have a happy birthday, and save a piece of cake for me!

"Gabrielle, are your fingers cramping or something?" Xena asked her companion testily. The bard and Joxer had been waggling their fingers at each other nonstop for the past hour and it was driving her crazy!

Gabrielle and her partner in crime just smirked at each other and made a couple more gestures. Xena fumed in silence. Argo gave a snort, but the mare didn't seem to be in the mood for a conversation, either. Xena spotted a peasant herding some sheep in a field not far from the road and opened her mouth to greet him (just to hear the sound of another person's voice), but before she could even clear her throat Gabrielle did the finger wiggling thing at him, and the herder did it right back!

What, is this a conspiracy? Xena snarled inwardly. At the end of her patience, she pulled up Argo's reins abruptly. The horse gave a whinny of protest, but at least it got everybody's attention. "Okay, I must have missed finger aerobics day at Amphipolis grade school, so why don't you just tell me WHAT IN TARTARUS YOU'RE DOING?!"

Joxer tittered and started another round of finger waggling, but seeing Xena unhook her chakram convinced the dolt that she meant business.

"Easy, Xena," Gabrielle said soothingly. "Nobody has to get hurt, here. We're just 'text messaging.' Everybody's doing it these days. Well, almost everybody."

Joxer smirked again, but Gabrielle flashed another hand gesture his way and he managed to wipe it off his face before Xena decided to rip it off him permanently. "It's really easy, Xena. I'll teach you," the bard continued.

Xena frowned. "I don't know if that's such a hot idea. I mean, I'm riding, and if I'm not paying attention to where I'm going..."

"You'll what?" asked Gabrielle with amusement.

"Well... Argo might go off the road," she pointed out weakly.

"Only if she sees some really juicy grass, and then she'll just stop for a snack. It's not like it would make you have an accident, or something."

Argo gave a snort and pawed the ground. It looked as if the mare was spelling out...

"Argo! I don't know how you know that phrase, but it's rude!" Gabrielle exclaimed.

"What?! What did she say?!" Xena demanded as she swung out of her saddle. How dare her own horse gang up with Gabrielle and Joxer to mock her?!

Joxer snickered. "She said... umph!"

"Umph?" repeated Xena.

Obviously the warrior princess had been too busy trying to decipher the message pawed into the dirt to see the sharp elbow in the gut that Gabrielle had just given him. The bard might not know the pinch to shut him up permanently, but if you hit him in the right spot on the pasta strainer he called a breastplate, you could at least knock the air out of his lungs for a minute or two. Usually by the time he got his wind back he'd forget what he was going to say in the first place, and would instead start complaining about being mistreated for no reason. He might not like it, but Gabrielle figured she was ultimately saving his life, as well as forestalling Xena's return to the bad old days of slowly killing those who irritated her as an example to all others. Unfortunately, Joxer wouldn't make much of an example, because anyone witnessing his painful demise would no doubt be cheering too lustily to take the lesson, but that wouldn't stop Xena from trying if pushed too far.

"Look, it's really very simple," Gabrielle began quickly before Joxer could start up again. "Each of these hand signals represents a letter or number. See this?" she asked, holding up one finger. "What do you think this means?"

"I'm number one?" Xena asked sarcastically.

"No, no, it's a letter. The letter iota, actually. How about this one?" she asked, making a fist.

"You'd better tell me or I'll hit you?!" answered Xena, plainly not in the mood to be catechized over every letter way of the alphabet.

"Uh, no, that would be alpha. Anyways, once you know the alphabet in sign language, then you just need to learn the shorthand..."

"Shorthand?! Let me get this straight, you have to learn all these hand gestures and then an entire new language?! Why don't you just open your mouth and spit it out?!"

Gabrielle had the grace to look rueful. "I'll admit, it's kind of a gimmick right now. But just think of the possibilities!"

"Fine, fine, show me one of your 'shorthands' already," Xena said with the last shred of her patience.

Gabrielle was quick to comply. "Here's one," she said, then made five gestures, spelling it out for Xena as she did so. "C-U-L-8-R."

"Huh?"

"See you later."

"Where do you get that?" Xena demanded suspiciously. This had to be a conspiracy- nobody would start up something this dumb, and if they did, they'd sure as Hades never talk everybody else into wasting their time with it!

"C... U... La-eight-er," Gabrielle repeated again with stronger emphasis, but she could see that Xena wasn't getting it. Sometimes her partner could be so literal!

"How about this one?" Joxer suggested, then started making some different signs. "M-Y-O-B," he spelled out for her.

"All right, I give up," Xena admitted with a snarl after she had racked her brains for what it could possibly be and failing miserably. If it had been B-Y-O-B she would have known it immediately, but this one...

"Mind your own business," Joxer told her smugly. Then he went deathly pale as Xena stepped toe to toe with him, the furious light of battle in her eyes.

"Mind my own business?! I thought you were teaching me this stuff!" she exclaimed, poking him in the chest with a finger like a spear.

"Whoa, Xena, he didn't mean it like that. That's what M-Y-O-B means!" Gabrielle interjected before Joxer lost any vital body parts to appease Xena's wrath.

Xena fixed a narrow eyed stare into Joxer's wide eyes, daring him to give the slightest sign of mockery. But even in her fury she could see nothing but fright in his expression, so she turned away with a sniff. She heard a resounding thud when she did so as Joxer passed out from the rapid shift from abject terror to groveling relief.

"Who in Tartarus came up with this centaur dung, anyways?" Xena demanded. Since they apparently had WAY too much time on their hands, she might just have to do something about that, maybe by making the idiot chisel on a stone tablet a million times, "I will not become the Scourge of Mankind and the Destroyer of Clear Communication." If she didn't just kill them first...

"I'm not really sure," Gabrielle admitted. "But it seemed like such fun. Of course, it can be a bit tricky sometimes. Sign a letter wrong and you can turn a friendly 'hello' into 'kiss my...', ahem. Anyways, it just seemed like the 'hip' thing to do."

"'Hip'. Right. I've got a little sign of my own to teach you," Xena told her companions. She held up three fingers. "Read between the lines, Gabrielle."



Strife howled with laughter as he watched the foolish mortals dissolve into chaos from his latest plan to drive humanity insane. He laughed so hard he fell off the roof of the shrine where he had been perched watching the comedy, landing on his head. But he was too pleased with himself to do more than take a quick look around to make sure nobody had witnessed his less than dignified landing, and then leaped back on top of the shrine. He knew this whole "text messaging" gig would prove to be the perfect source of unending chaos. The warrior babe herself looked ready to eviscerate the next chump that wandered by who so much as waved a hand to swat a fly. That would show them- you don't need wars or large scale mayhem to destroy civilization, you just needed to give the mortals the right rope and they'd hang themselves! Chortling with glee, he popped out of there, heading back to Olympus. That little minx Discord owed him big after betting against the success his fiendish little plan, and he was more than ready to collect. TTFN, WP!

Well, I stayed up several hours later than I should have last night, but it was worth all the yawns at work today, because my beloved Detroit Red Wings beat the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-2 to win the Stanley Cup in six games. It was too bad they didn't get to celebrate on home ice in game five, especially since many of the Pittsburgh fans let their love for their own team prevent them from being gracious (booing and calling Detroit cheaters from the seats as they were given the trophy they most definitely EARNED!!!). But regardless of the fans disappointment in the arena, there were plenty of us around the hockey world that were celebrating. Coming on top of the President's Trophy for best regular season record in the NHL, they matched my other favorite sports team Manchester United by taking home the two most important pieces of silverware available to them as a club. So three cheers for the Wings!!! And on a personal note, I've added a new show, a Discovery Channel series called The Alaska Experiment, which follows four groups of regular people who are asked to live in Alaska for three months, late summer to early winter, with only a crude dwelling and a minimum of supplies. All protein they have to hunt or fish for themselves. It's a real eye opener, let me tell you. I only need 150 more subs to get my 20,000 subs emblem, so that should only take a couple more days. I've also gone up to level 65, and in doing so have reached the plateau of the top fifteen users, though I'm myself am currently number 18. My goal is to eventually overtake the infamous banned user DebStitch, but since she was level 74 before she was kicked off the site, it may take a little while. Oh well, it's not like I have anything better to do, now that my teams are finished until next season. I'm sure I'll tune into some of Euro 2008, but with England not even making the tournament that leaves only Holland for me to root for, since I'm of half Dutch descent. If they get knocked out early I'll have to randomly pick a team that's left to support, and that's not as much fun.:? More time for TV.com, then...;)