"Dimi, stop daydreaming and take those horses to the eastern pasture," Lazlo, the boy's father told him.

Dimitar scowled rebelliously but obeyed. Dimi hated all the many chores his father made him do around the family farm, but at least moving the herds were a chance to spend a few stolen moments in the saddle.

His family was of the Getae tribe, horse nomads from the northern steppes in generations past, now settled in the more fertile hills and valleys of Thrace. The tribe had been transformed by the land in a few short years into farmers and herders, losing their identity as nomads even though they still told the tales of their great grandfathers' days. Dimitar had listened to the tales with rapt imagination. The gypsy life of his forefathers seemed to him much more noble than spending a lifetime grubbing in the dirt as a farmer. A nomad had perfect freedom- freedom to come and go as he chose, not tied to land or possessions the way his father was. It seemed infinitely more satisfying to Dimi to live life in the saddle, taking only one's herds and a few necessaries in a family wagon as you roamed the world, seeing new sights and new people with the break of each day.

A farmer lived in constant fear- either drought or flood, pestilence or vermin threatened. Even in a good year with no plagues to contend with, a farmer had to be on guard against the danger of raiders. These raiders included the Scythians, a cousin tribe of the Getae who still lived the nomadic life on the steppes. They traveled the world on horseback and rolling wagons, herding cattle to meet their daily needs and raiding the fools who played in the dirt for anything else they required, only to disappear like the wind when they were done.

If only I were born a Scythian, Dimitar thought longingly as he mounted his favorite pony Bela. He had trained him from a foal himself, and now the young stallion was like Dimi's other half, moving flawlessly to the silent commands of the boy's pressing knees and heels.

He gave a chirruping call to the herd of horses, rounding them up with a few practiced moves by Bela on either side of the paddock enclosing them. Once he convinced the herd's lead stallion that he meant business, the rest of the animals cooperated without too much more trouble. The animals knew from experience that there would be fresh grass and cool water at their destination, so when Dimi kicked his pony into a trot, they followed him at a faster pace.

Dimi wanted to get the herd to the eastern pasture as quickly as possible for a reason. Once there, he'd no longer be able to see his home and the fields where his father was working, and more importantly, his father wouldn't be able to see him. That gave him the freedom to spend a few precious minutes really riding, riding as his ancestors did. Dimi had taught himself many of the tricks recounted in his father's stories, including sending his pony leaping over various obstacles, making his steed change gaits with just a quick, sharp touch of his heels, to rear and spin, then kick backwards on command. Dimi could also stand on his saddle while his pony cantered and mount him without using his hands. He could also shoot his bow with accuracy while at a gallop.

The hardest trick that he had tried to teach himself was to be able to shoot his bow from beneath his pony's neck as he rode. He sprawled over the stallion's withers, hooked his leg on the horn of the saddle to hold himself as steady as possible, but his legs just weren't long enough yet. He'd feel himself slipping, and he would either have to drop his bow and pull himself back up, or slide all the way out. At least he'd learned to roll as he fell so that he no longer landed head first!

This was the first trick he'd tried that he'd admitted that he needed someone to teach it to him. But his father and uncles had never had the urge to hang on to this particular part of their heritage, so they were of no help. In fact, Dimi would have gotten a beating if his father knew exactly what he was attempting to do. Lazlo didn't understand that this wasn't the careless recklessness of a rebellious boy on the verge of manhood, this was an earnest desire to claim his heritage before it was completely forgotten in the earth of Thrace. So Dimitar kept trying in spite of his failures, hoping he'd luck into the correct technique and be able to perform this feat of his nomad ancestors.

So Dimi delivered the herd as he had been told, and then spent some time practicing his new skills. He never in that stolen hour managed to pull his bowstring back to his ear without starting to slip, he never slid so far that he had to drop his bow to save himself, so that was a victory for him, of sorts. After the day's final attempt Dimitar was guiltily aware that he should have gone back to the farm a good half an hour earlier, but he'd accept his father's whipping for escaping his chores without flinching. Strength in the face of pain was something to be proud of, whether you were a Scythian or a Getae.

"The Scythians are coming," was the rumor flying on the late summer wind. The long, hot days of August were too early for harvesting the family's wheat fields, but Dimi's father and the other men of their community were all hurrying to reap their crops as quickly as possible, trying desperately to gather their living wealth into hidden storage places so that the anticipated marauders wouldn't be able to plunder it all from them.

It was tiring, dirty work, and Dimitar's entire family rose at dawn to take part. The long days of toil meant that Dimi had no more stolen moments riding his pony as he pleased, but he did spend a number of hours in the saddle since he still had the responsibility of moving the herds to fresh pastures, so he didn't spend his whole day in the wheat fields. It seemed strange, but for the first time Dimi found something like nobility in his chores. His family's livestock and herds had been entrusted to his sole care, and he was immensely proud of his new responsibility. He lorded it over his younger siblings, who watched him enviously as he rode away from the drudgery of gathering sheaves of grain to care for the thirsty animals. They had to remain behind with father and mother all day long. Father and Dimi's uncle Slava cut the ripe wheat with rhythmic swings of their scythes, then the youngsters gathered the sweet smelling stalks into bundles which their mother and uncle Misha tied, then stacked upright under the beating sun to dry.

Normally the sheaves would be left out to dry for several days before they were hauled off to the barn for threshing, but there was no time for such niceties this year. The Scythians could sweep through any day now, so at the setting of each sun Dimi hitched a pair of horses to the family's wagon and carted the grain off to a cave hidden in a nearby hillside. The raiders would never find it there, so his family would have bread to eat through the long, cold winter and still have seed to plant in the spring. They would probably lose any extra grain they could have sold to merchants from one the southern Greek cities, but they could live without those extra dinars in their pouches as long as they had food in their bellies.

So this crisis and Dimitar's new adult responsibilities had created a dawning respect for his father's chosen way of life. Daily toil on the farm might lack the romance of life in the saddle, but he now saw that the daily battles fought by farmers required as much, if not more courage and skill. Victory, whether it was won over plunderers or the forces of Nature, possessed a sweetness for which Dimi was definitely acquiring a taste. He knew he could still hold on to his roots, using his skills to protect his home from those who would try to take it from him, whether it be man or beast. Dimi had realized that true nobility lay in facing difficulty without flinching and overcoming the odds, no matter how great they were stacked against him. It took more courage to stand and hold onto what you had than roaming the world looking to take from others. He was a man, now, with a man's job to do. It was time to put away his boyish fancies behind him.

Dimi had just finished watering the herd when he noticed the acrid scent of smoke. In these balmy late summer days there was no need for more than a small cook fire, but the scent was too strong to come from that source. What could it...? No! Dimitar knew that trouble had finally found his family.

The boy quickly removed the halter from each of the horses so that they'd be harder to catch, then yelled and waved his arms to scatter them. If the raiders were making a lightning raid, it would prove to be too much trouble to catch them all, and Dimi could round up the remaining animals after they left. He refused to think about what he'd do if they weren't just making a quick raid. He had too much to do to waste time on that.

He slung his quiver of arrows from the back of his saddle so that they'd be easy to reach, and strung his light bow. He'd only ever shot at small game, and once at a stray dog trying to get at his mother's chickens, but they'd have to do. If the Scythians attacked his family he'd defend them however he could.

He kicked Bela into a canter, and the stallion obeyed in spite of the smoke which made him nervous. The scent only grew stronger as they got closer to the homestead, but it wasn't until he rode out of the ravine between the folds of the two hills leading from the eastern pasture that he saw that his home was engulfed in flames.

"No," he whispered, appalled at the sight of the bright flames leaping into the sky. He urged his pony faster, drawing an arrow from his quiver as they hurtled forwards. He notched it back, searching through the billowing smoke for a target.

He found one almost immediately, a fox skin hatted nomad bent over his mother's too still body to plunder the carved amber necklace from around her neck. With a scream of rage he was unable to suppress, he sent his arrow flying. It struck the Scythian deep into his belly, and he fell atop Dimi's mother to share the last embrace of death.

Dimitar saw his brother and sister nearby, trampled by the careless brutality of the attackers. Tears streamed down his grimy face, but this time he was able to bite his tongue to keep from exclaiming aloud. He notched another arrow, and buried it inside the ribs of a strange dog sniffing at their helpless bodies.

His eyes swept over the homestead and saw a knot of Scythians piling loot into his father's wagon. He rode towards them, emptying his quiver of arrows as fast as he could draw his bow. Several of his darts hit their targets as they stood clumped together, frankly amazed to see a young boy challenge them so bravely when the farm's men had fallen so easily.

But Dimi was out of arrows and had nothing but a knife at his belt to fight with. He saw a sword still pinning his uncle Slava to the ground, and leapt from his saddle to claim it. He tugged at the sword with all of his might, but the blade, which was nearly as tall as he was, would not slide free. He quit trying and drew his knife, determined to take at least one more of the murdering barbarians with him to Hades, but the nomads seemed to hesitate to finish him.

"Why don't you just kill me?" he defied them, tears flowing freely but with no fear to turn them bitter.

One of the Scythians laughed at his words. "All right, boy, if you like."

"No!" the leader of the band commanded. "We Scythians are wolves, not jackals. We kill sheep in order to feed, not our brother wolves. This boy has proven that he is a wolf, just as we are. You will live, my wolf cub, and be the stronger for this."

"You've killed my father," he told them with the fierceness of fresh grief. "You've killed them all!"

"I've killed many fathers, and little boys, too, when they got in my way," bragged the first Scythian.

"And I have killed a full hand of Scythians," Dimi told him defiantly in return, though perhaps he exaggerated. He only knew for certain that two were dead from his arrows, though five of them had been hit.

"That is why we let you live," the Scythian leader told him. "You must have some Scythian blood mixed in your veins, Getae."

Dimi wanted to deny it, to bravely declare that he was nothing like them, but the enormity of the day's events struck him with the force of a blow. His family were all gone, and Dimi was alone. What was left for him now? The fields his father had been so proud of cultivating were now soaked with his blood.

The nomads mounted their horses and prepared to ride away with the farm's wagon stuffed with booty.

"Stay well, little Getae, and perhaps when you are older you'll get your chance for vengeance," the first nomad told him with another laugh.

"No!" Dimi declared, filled with the same determination he'd felt as he'd battled to defend his home.

Getae or Scythian, Dimitar now knew firsthand that the only thing that mattered in life was living or dying. The Scythians had killed everyone and lived, and his Getae family were all dead. If he remained here to be true to his upbringing, he'd be dead too- the fields razed, the horses scattered to the four winds, and his home burned to the ground. A part of him felt as if it were lifeless in the dust amongst his family, but Dimi's heart refused to stop beating, and he knew that he had to live. The only difference was that his life would no longer include the illusions that had blinded him, those of nobility, and right and wrong.

"Wait!" he shouted to the leader of the Scythians. The nomad reined his horse in to look back at the small figure still daring to challenge him.

"You've taken all I have, so now you must return it to me. You said I'm a wolf, just like you. Wolves must live in packs, or die," he said.

The other Scythians laughed at Dimi's bold words, but their leader didn't. Instead, he met Dimitar's eyes to measure the strength of will within them. Dimi stared back unflinchingly. He had spoken nothing but the truth, and was ready to prove it to all of them.

The Scythian nodded abruptly and rode over to the boy.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"My name is Dimitar," he replied.

"That is a Getae name, and if you are going to ride with us, you will need a Scythian name," the leader told him sternly. But then his face softened slightly. "My own son died a few weeks ago, and his mother has mourned long enough. You shall take his name and his place within my yurt. Come, Borias, my son."

The nomad extended his arm so that the boy could swing up behind him on his horse. Borias (Dimitar no longer) did as he was told without hesitation, and all the Scythians rode away from the ruins of the farm without a backward glance.

It's been a great week for both of my favorite teams in red. The Detroit Red Wings have won their first two playoff games against the Nashville Predators in the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, and they did so convincingly, in spite of being outplayed in the first period of game two. Only two more wins to go, and then it's time for round two! Go Wings! Also this week, my other boys in red Manchester United defeated Roma to make it into the semi-finals of the UEFA Champions League, where they face Barcelona. And today they beat third place team Arsenal to retain their position at the head of the pack in the Premier League, giving them an excellent opportunity to repeat as champions. Go Man Utd!:D It's going to be a dogfight all the way, but they have the talent to take both pieces of silverware on offer, so hopefully they will. An honorable mention also goes to another side in red, Liverpool, who defeated Arsenal in the Champions League to also make the semis, facing Chelsea. That means for a second year running, three out of four semi-finalists of the Champions Leagus will be English! Well done, all! Even if United doesn't win, I'm really hoping an English team gets the vidtory this time around.

Here at TV.com, danbambridge has periodically made top 25 contributor lists (based on levels), so I decided I was going to try to hit the top 25 by my birthday on April 19th several months ago. Looking at the list at the time, I figured I would need to be at least level 62 to make it. Now that there's less than two weeks before my birthday, I checked out the competition, and from what I've seen, I'm currently in 27th place, with a level 61 76%. I was right about having to get to level 62, because the current #25 is TVTome_Sudser, at 62 25%. That means it's going to be very tough, but not impossible for me to reach my goal. So I'm going to go for it, making as many subs as I can for the next few weeks, which means that I am probably going to be slacking on other things, such as posting the next chapter, so I apologize to the readers who are waiting. I promise I'll make it up to you once this goal has either been achieved or just missed, on April 19th. In the meantime, wish me luck!:D

Gabrielle rode steadily onwards to make her way back to Xena and Epirus. She'd just spent a bittersweet week with her family in Potidaea, and now she was more than ready to be back at her best friend's side. Her family loved her, and she loved them deeply in return. But even after four years' time they still couldn't understand how she could possibly choose to leave her safe, quiet home to face danger and death with Xena.

Her father devoutly believed that his daughter leaving home was all Xena's fault. He was certain Gabrielle would never have left if the Warrior Princess hadn't filled her head with crazy dreams of glory and adventure. He didn't seem to realize that his daughter had dreamed of those things long before she'd even met Xena. Perhaps if she hadn't have met the warrior Gabrielle wouldn't have found quite so many adventures as she had following Xena. But she still would have left Potidaea eventually to search for new horizons on her own, no matter what he thought.

Gabrielle's mother, on the other hand, tried to pretend that everything was all right. But her daughter saw through the mask her mother wore to recognize the pain her absence caused her. The thought of the daughter she'd once held safely in her arms being hurt or even killed filled her days with a deep anguish and dread. But her mother buried that pain deep inside her, and did her best to project calm acceptance to the world.

In a way, that was worse than her father's reaction. At least her father dealt with his feelings honestly, expressing them openly to himself and everyone around him. Her mother couldn't do that. She refused to appear as anything less than completely supportive of her daughter's choice, even though the charade tore her to pieces on the inside.

Either way, both of them were in denial. At least Gabrielle's younger sister tried to understand, and she was the one that Gabrielle still felt connected to, even though she only saw her a few times a year. Lila missed her sister intensely, and she was still a little jealous of her relationship with Xena. In spite of that, she knew that Gabrielle had chosen to live the life she had because it was one that fulfilled her in ways she hadn't even dreamed possible before she met Xena.

Gabrielle's travels kept her from visiting Potidaea often, but she kept Lila caught up on her life and adventures as much as possible through her writing. She sent Lila copies of all her scrolls as she wrote them. Gabrielle traveled light out of necessity, which meant she needed a place to send her scrolls once they were finished. So she made several copies of each, and sent one set to her friend Homer at the Athens City Academy of Performing Bards, a second set to the Greek Amazons, and a third set to her sister. That way, she knew her legacy would be safe. Maybe someday, if she and Xena decided to settle down somewhere, she'd prepare a complete set of her own. But in the meantime she just kept a few of her favorites in her bag and passed the rest into safe hands.

Lila was thrilled to receive them. She found her sister's scrolls amazing, with their tales of warlords, Gods and demons, love and war. It was frequently shocking to think that the same sister she used to share a room with and even beat up occasionally was a hero known throughout the world, and was on a first name basis with many of the Gods.

But that was nothing compared to the events Gabrielle had just experienced. She told Lila about her death by crucifixion at Caesar's command, and the war she had helped to fight in the afterlife. Knowing made her fear that she might soon lose her sister forever, and there were times when she could have selfishly wished that her sister had been like everyone else in their village, so that her own sleep could be more peaceful. But she accepted that Gabrielle had to live her own life if she was going to find happiness, and she did her best, just as Gabrielle did her best to keep her sister an important part of her life as well. So Lila read each scroll as it arrived, and continued to look forward to the day when her sister would visit in person, just as she had now.

They'd spent a happy week together. Lila had told Gabrielle all the news about their neighbors, including that about a certain young man who'd taken to bringing Lila flowers on a regular basis. Gabrielle was extremely pleased to see that her sister was over her crush on Joxer, especially since the bard had just found out that he was in love with Gabrielle. She knew that she could never return his feelings that way, and knowing that Lila did made things even more uncomfortable. Fortunately, Lila had found someone who cared about her, and Gabrielle could see that she'd need to make time to be in Potidaea again sometime in the near future to watch her little sister get married. She just hoped she and Xena would be in Greece when the time came, or she might not get the word in time to be there for it.

All in all, it was a wonderful visit, but all good things must come to an end, and Gabrielle knew how much Xena would be needing her help. So at the week's end she bid a tearful farewell to her loved ones and started her ride across northern Greece. Now that she had a horse of her own she made much better time than she used to on foot, but even on horseback it would still take days of hard riding to reach Epirus. She just hoped she wouldn't run into too much trouble on her way back there.

It had been two days, and she hadn't met any so far. She'd just left Pella, the capital city of her homeland of Macedonia. Right now the Kingdom was under the rule of Olympias, the mother of King Alexander the Great, and his regent Antipater. Gabrielle was glad that Alexander himself was still at Babylon. She and the King had a history, but it was one that neither of them was free to reopen. Not seeing him relieved her of one major complication that she couldn't afford to deal with just then.

Macedonia's capital was a city on the rise. Persian gold and returning soldiers from Alexander's eastern campaign poured new life into Pella and the entire Macedonian Kingdom. Athens used to be the center of culture and learning in Greece, but that city's star was no longer ascendant. More and more scholars and artisans were being drawn north to claim the rewards offered to make Alexander's Kingdom rival the greatest ones of the world. Others might sneer at the nouveau riche and their eagerness to buy the civilized polish found in older cities. But the citizens of Pella had an energy that was lacking in places like Athens and Babylon with their self-satisfied complacency.

Gabrielle wished she'd had more time to explore it's thriving libraries and places of learning, but that would have to wait for another day. Maybe she and Xena would pass through there again on their way to Amphipolis. Gabrielle was certain she could convince Xena to delay that trip for a day or so, even if it meant poking through moldy old scrolls, as she referred to Gabrielle's preference for libraries. At least she'd get a reprieve from the tender mercies of her mother Cyrene! Besides, in a city as vibrant as Pella, there were sure to be places of more interest to the Warrior Princess, as well. But that was for the future.

She took one last wistful glance at the bustling city and then rode out of the city's western gate. It was only a little past noon, so she still had plenty of daylight left to bring her closer to Epirus. She went at a walking pace until traffic on the western road thinned, and then kicked her horse into a swinging trot.

A young woman watched the blonde Amazon she'd been following for the past hour through the city leave through the gates. She urged her own mount into a matching pace, wanting to keep the other in sight. She'd just left her own home to look for a new life, and she believed that she had just found it. She'd heard stories about the Amazon Nation all of her life, and she'd always wanted to meet one herself. She admired their strength, and their refusal to bend their wills to follow men's rules, instead living their lives exactly how they chose. She had always wished she had been born an Amazon, but since she hadn't been so lucky she hoped she could convince one of the many tribes to adopt her into their ranks.

To do that she needed to seize her opportunity to talk to a real Amazon. She followed the woman carefully, searching for the right moment to introduce herself. The streets of Pella were too crowded to be suitable for what she had in mind, but she knew that once they were a few hour's ride beyond the city there'd be plenty of privacy. She just hoped that the Amazon would be willing to give her a chance. She was ready to do just about anything to prove herself worthy of joining their sisterhood.

The girl's opportunity arrived at last, and in an even better scenario than she'd dared to hope it would. The Amazon riding ahead of her had been attacked by a small band of soldiers. She'd dismounted to fight them on foot, holding them at bay with a pair of long, slender daggers. She used lightning speed to duck and weave, stepping in when she was an opening to exploit, and smoothly backing out when her enemy's superior numbers forced her to assume a more defensive stance. In fact, she didn't appear to need any help at all with the men who attempted to close with her in a direct attack.

But then she saw that the Amazon needed some help after all. The girl who had dreamed of one day becoming an Amazon was no stranger to combat, and her trained eyes spotted an archer slipping through some bushes just out of the Amazon's sight. He drew a bead on her, and waited impatiently for his comrades to get out of his way so that he could take his shot. But he in turn was unaware that there was a witness to his dangerous intentions, so he failed to react in time to adjust his aim when the girl rode into the middle of the fight and interposed her own body between him and his target. Instead of taking out the Amazon, his arrow sank into the girl's left thigh.

Somewhat off balance already, the shock of the blow sent the girl tumbling out of her saddle onto the ground. The Amazon spun around and saw her go down, and when she saw the girl fall she realized that she had just missed being seriously wounded because of her actions. She hurried over to her rescuer's side.

"Are you all right?" she asked quickly, standing over the girl's prone body to protect her from further attack.

"I think so," the girl replied bravely in spite of her pain, "but I don't think I'll be able to walk out of here on my own."

It pained the girl to admit her helplessness to the very person she most wanted to impress, but she was no fool. She knew she could endanger them both if she claimed she could do something that her injured leg couldn't deliver.

She raised her hands in surrender, and hoped the Amazon would understand.

Gabrielle saw her rescuer give up the fight. The soldiers who'd attacked her closed in on them, and the bard was forced to make a decision that she hated to make. She didn't have time for this! But she couldn't fight them all off and help the girl get away, and she couldn't just leave her there wounded and at their mercy if she broke free and got away. She dropped her sais, and raised her own empty hands in surrender, too.

Her attackers grinned and took her weapons. Gabrielle handed them over, and then turned to check the girl's wound. It didn't look too bad, but it did need some attention before she could be safely moved.

"I need to bandage that up for her," she told the man who seemed to be in charge. She was reasonably confident he'd let her. If they were bandits, they'd definitely want her patched up. Dead or crippled slaves brought no profit to anyone, and it could be treated easily enough to make it worth their while.

"Make it quick," the leader told her. "I want to get back to camp before dark."

Gabrielle went to her bag hanging from her saddle and took both it and her water bag over to the girl. The men watched her closely as she dug into the bag, wanting to be certain she wouldn't pull a weapon out unexpectedly. But Gabrielle had no intention of fighting at the moment. That would have to wait for a more opportune time. She pulled a roll of bandage out and laid it on top of her bag on the ground next to the girl.

"This isn't too bad," she told her, "But I need to make sure I can pull it out safely. If I can, you should heal up pretty easily, and have a nice scar to show your friends in a few weeks."

She examined the wound closely, needing to determine if the head of the arrow was barbed. If it was unbarbed she could simply pull it free without causing anymore damage. Now that she saw it up close, she knew that they were in luck. It had a regular triangular head, so pulling it free from her damaged flesh wouldn't be any trouble.

"Get ready," she warned the girl, and then gave it a swift tug. The girl gave a strangled grunt of pain, but otherwise held herself as quietly as possible. Gabrielle rinsed the wound with water from her water bag and then wrapped it tightly with the bandage. A steady trickle of blood oozed from the torn flesh, but the flow tapered off quickly as the pressure from the bandage helped seal it shut.

"That's the best I can do for you now," Gabrielle told her, "but it should be enough to keep it from getting worse. Just try not to move it much and reopen it."

"I will," the girl promised.

Gabrielle turned back to the soldier's leader. "She'll be all right if she stays off that leg for a few days. Until then you ought to let her ride to wherever it is you're taking us."

The girl's horse had run away during the fight, but Gabrielle's horse was better trained. He was in fact the only horse present, since the soldiers had come out of the brush at the side of the road on foot. Gabrielle figured that meant their camp couldn't be too far away.

"All right," he grudgingly agreed. They'd take longer getting back if he made her walk, and he wanted to get back to camp as soon as possible, and with him holding the reins, the horse wouldn't be going anywhere he didn't want it to.

Gabrielle helped the girl to mount her horse while the soldier took the reins. Gabrielle settled in to walk next to her right stirrup so that she could talk to the girl.

"Thanks for what you did back there," Gabrielle told her.

"I have to admit, I hadn't intended to take that arrow in your place," she said ruefully. "But I had hoped to find some way to win your good opinion. I've never met an Amazon before, and I was hoping you'd appreciate my help enough to introduce me to your tribe."

"Well, assuming we get out of this alive, I'll be happy to do it," Gabrielle assured her. "My name is Gabrielle. What's yours?"

The girl looked around to see if the men were paying any attention to their conversation. Then she leaned over to whisper it to her.

"My name is Adrian."

Xena and Leonidas reached the city of Epirus the next afternoon. The city was swarming with activity as her citizens feverishly carried out the urgent business of preparing for the coming war. Those wealthy enough to escape scurried towards the harbor with as much of their portable wealth as they could carry, but their numbers were few. Only those with money to burn could afford the steeply inflated price of passage as each ship's captain took merciless advantage of the frantic demand to squeeze every last dinar out of this golden opportunity for profit.

Those unwilling or unable to run away from trouble were spending their last dinars on stockpiling food, fuel, and other necessities to allow them to live through the anticipated siege. The Epirote army was too small to take the field and fight toe to toe with Jason's army, so outlasting the attackers was the only real hope of the supporters of Pyrrhus and Adrian.

While the noncombatant citizens saw to their future needs, all the able bodied men either drilled with their assigned militia units or otherwise prepared the city for war. Epirus' professional army was relatively small, but they were highly trained in the art of war. Additional soldiers had been conscripted to eke out the standing army's ranks, but few of these men had ever had much military training. Many could use some sort of weapon with decent ability but most were completely unfamiliar with the skills necessary to fight alongside others as a part of a team. If they couldn't learn those techniques quickly the conscripts would be of severely limited use when the enemy assaulted the walls. Still, they could man the battlements, stand watches, and otherwise free up the more elite army units for use in other, more specialized duties.

Xena deeply approved of the efforts that she'd seen so far. There was no discernable panic in the city's frenetic activity, only order and discipline. Everyone seemed determined to support the King and his heir no matter what it took. That fact alone spoke well of all of Epirus- a beloved royal family and their deeply devoted subjects. Jason wouldn't have an easy time breaking their spirits, the fastest way to end a siege. Xena wasn't sure if Epirus' citizens all believed that Adrian was their rightful future King, but apparently none of them were letting their doubts prevent them from supporting the Prince now. That meant that they would rather break their own laws and be ruled by an illegitimate heir than submit to Jason's rule in compliance with the laws of their fathers. Assuming Jason's claims were true, of course. But it seemed likely that there was a reasonable doubt, since Adrian hadn't wanted to stick around to face the challenge.

Xena and Leonidas slowly wove their way through the crowded streets. The Epirote General paused frequently to speak words of praise and encouragement to those they passed.

"Well, it looks like this city won't be an easy conquest. From what I've seen, morale is high and preparations are coming along well," Xena said with approval. "I couldn't have done things better myself."

"King Pyrrhus has ruled his kingdom well for decades, and his people appreciate his benevolence," Leonidas explained with a shrug. But his diffidence couldn't disguise his pride in his adopted countrymen.

Eventually they arrived at the royal palace located within the stone walls of the city's citadel. The citadel was even more heavily fortified than the city itself, and should Jason succeed in breaching the city's defenses they'd still have it to fall back upon for their protection. It would take a great deal more effort to take it's walls, especially since all approaches to t were sufficiently narrow to hamper the besiegers' attempts. The attackers would be protected from counter attacks by many of the buildings near the citadel's walls, but siege engines would be useless. Jason's army would be forced to make a direct assault on the walls without the benefit of heavy artillery to sweep the walls of defenders or to shatter the walls beneath their feet. All Jason could do was either accept a high casualty rate in an all out assault or settle down for a lengthy siege and wait for attrition and a lack of supplies to wear the defenders down. Either way, victory would not be easy for Jason.

When they got to the palace Leonidas sought out King Pyrrhus' chief physician. He wanted to know if the King was well enough to discuss the situation, but not at the risk weakening the King further. Every moment the King rested peacefully was precious, helping him to regenerate whatever was left of his fading strength. Disturbing him while he rested would only wear him down to no purpose. They could afford to delay a few hours, or even all day if necessary since Jason wasn't expected to appear at their gates for several more weeks. Besides, it wasn't as if their wasn't enough other work for the General to keep him occupied in the meantime. The defense of Epirus was the direct responsibility of Leonidas, not King Pyrrhus. The King had been quite a good commander in his prime but his illness forced him to rely on others to defend his Kingdom.

Pyrrhus' physician told Leonidas that the King was indeed awake but warned him that a long conference was out of the question. The General promised to keep their meeting as short as possible and then took Xena to meet his King.

Xena had never met Pyrrhus personally although she had seen him on several occasions from a distance. So when she saw how feeble and wasted he appeared she was shocked in spite of the fact that she knew he was dying. But Leonidas was even more shocked. When he had left Epirus two weeks ago to coordinate the search for Adrian the King had been very sick, but his appearance then was nothing compared to the way he looked now. Pyrrhus was practically a living skeleton now, and in the darkness, he might have taken him for one long dead in actuality. But while the King's body was failing him so rapidly, his mind was as sharp as ever.

"Leonidas," whispered the King in a hoarse, breathy voice. "Have you found Adrian yet?"

Leonidas hated to crush his hopes, but he couldn't lie to him.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, we haven't yet. My men are continuing to search everywhere, and I'm confident that it's only a matter of time before he's returned to you. But what about you? Have you thought of anything else that could help us in our search?" the General asked, though not with a great deal of hope.

"I'm afraid not," Pyrrhus whispered, eyes closing with grief.

"I see. Well, we haven't yet found Adrian, but I did manage to recruit someone who will be invaluable in our fight against Jason," he said. "Your Majesty, I'd like to introduce you to an old commander and friend of mine, Xena, the Warrior Princess."

King Pyrrhus took a gasping breath in surprise, but immediately had the air forced back out of his lungs by a racking cough. The effort seemed to drain him visibly, but once he regained control of his breathing he made a weak gesture to acknowledge the introduction. Xena answered with a respectful nod and then asked a question of her own.

"If I may, Your Majesty, there are a few things I'd like to ask you," she began. "Your nephew Jason claims to be able to prove that your son isn't the legitimate heir to your crown. Do you have any idea why he thinks that, or what his proof might be?"

King Pyrrhus stared blankly at the ceiling of his bedchamber, his slack face revealing nothing. Or at least, it explained nothing. His very lack of response to so reasonable a question told Xena that he did have a pretty good guess what this was all about, but he didn't want to reveal it to her or anyone else.

"Pyrrhus, it'll make things much easier if I know exactly what I'm up against," she told him with all the persuasiveness she could muster. But the King remained silent. They both allowed the silence to stretch for several more heartbeats, and then Pyrrhus sighed and conceded the battle of wills, though not the war.

"Nothing I could tell you now will matter if I don't get Adrian back and somehow hold off my nephew's army," he evaded with determined pragmatism.

Xena let it go for the moment. Whatever the problem was, he obviously wasn't going to tell her now. So he was right, she was better off focusing on the tasks immediately at hand. She'd find out his secret soon enough when Adrian was found. Besides, she had no desire to contribute to the King's ills by pushing him too hard. His physician had warned them that added stress could possibly cause irreparable damage, mentally as well as physically. She turned to Leonidas and cocked her head to let him know she was ready to go.

Leonidas bowed to his King and promised yet again to defend his Kingdom with all his power, and then followed Xena out of the stuffy sickroom. Once they were well away from there he asked Xena her impressions on the situation.

"So, you're a pretty good healer yourself, if I recall. How good do you think are the King's chances of living long enough to see Adrian return to be his heir?"

"I'm not an expert on this sort of thing, but I'd say his doctors are right, he doesn't have long to live, especially if something happens to weaken his spirit. It looks to me as if he's only holding onto life through sheer willpower. We need to find the Prince as soon as possible, or it won't matter anymore."

"My men are doing all that they can. They'll find him, I know it, but you're right, it had better be soon. All I can do now is make sure that there's still a throne for him to come back to," he told her.

"Right," said Xena, mentally shifting gears to focus on the task immediately at hand. "Well then, tell me about your preparations up to this point, and I'll see if I can think of anything to add to them."

"You got it," he agreed.

Leonidas began by taking her on a tour of the city and it's fortifications while they talked. Epirus was completely surrounded by walls, requiring any attacker to either destroy them, tunnel under them, or try to climb over them, The ground was rocky, making sapping a slow and difficult proposition. The walls were of uneven height but of stout construction and sturdy thickness. They were shortest where the most difficult approaches to the city were located, which actually made the taller sections of the walls the easiest access points for the besiegers. With siege engines to weaken the walls and drive the defenders from the battlements, Jason's army could use ladders and siege towers to fight their way inside the city.

But they wouldn't have an easy time of it. Xena noted workers reinforcing the walls with approval. Carpenters built a second, wooden interior wall behind the permanent stone walls of the city. The secondary wall was about a cubit behind the first. Once the wooden wall was finished, they'd fill the empty space between them with straw and bags of sand, forming a cushion to help absorb any shocks to the stone wall. The added material would support the primary wall, making it resist blows by giving it a bit of flexibility. That would make them much tougher to break down using rams or large projectiles from the enemy's siege engines.

That meant any attacker's best bet for success would be to sit outside the walls and starve them out. But that strategy brought it's own attendant difficulties. The besiegers had to make certain that no one could get in or out, and that Epirus didn't have anyone one else coming to their rescue. If a relieving force did arrive the besiegers would in turn become the besieged, trapped between two armies with no place to go.

Possibly the most difficult part of the job would be remaining disciplined enough not to get sloppy. Sieges meant a lot of hard work with little immediate victories to keep the bored, toiling soldiers happy. If they relaxed their guard too much they'd lose any advantage they'd won, and have to start from scratch.

Even if no one came from outside to break the siege, keeping the city's defenders pinned down prevented those outside from moving too much, as well. So while foraging for supplies would be easier for Jason's army than for the Epirote citizens, it would still be difficult. They could only live off the immediate neighborhood for so long, especially if the city harvested what crops they could early and destroyed the rest. Jason's soldiers would be forced to supplement their stores from other, less convenient sources, which would be expensive, and cause shortages if the supply line was too long.

Jason wouldn't want his troops plundering the countryside too heavily if he wanted to get the citizens of Epirus to accept him as their ruler. If the soldiers destroyed everything the people would never see him as anything but a conquering enemy. Giving them nothing to lose sent them directly into the arms of Pyrrhus and Adrian.

Such problems could cause an impatient commander to try to find a way inside the walls more quickly, either by a direct, bloody assault, or by attempting to suborn a few of the defenders and gain a decisive advantage through treachery.

In a war of this nature, treachery was indeed the greatest weapon of all. Even though the people of Epirus seemed united in defending their Prince, there was a very good chance their own laws made Jason's claims completely valid. By refusing to accept the legal challenge, Pyrrhus had put himself very much in the wrong. So there might be those who would see betraying the city's defenses as the act of a patriot, not a traitor. They could rationalize it as being a greater good to stop an unnecessary war and the suffering it would bring.

The only thing they could do to avoid that was to remain constantly on the alert for potential troublemakers and work to keep the city's morale as high as possible. As long as they had enough supplies and didn't suffer any major reverses, they could do it. But when food ran short or if Jason won enough victories, the likelihood of someone betraying the city's defenses went from being possible to most definite. Even then, most of the city's defenders would do their best to stop any treachery they discovered, but that couldn't stop every attempt of things got bad.

Epirus would fall eventually if Jason kept at it long enough, unless the Kingdom was reinforced by an outside power. Leonidas told Xena that King Pyrrhus had attempted to form several alliances when he realized the danger they were in, but everyone the King could have ordinarily counted on for support declined to become involved in a succession war. Xena couldn't blame them. A war between family members was the ugliest kind.

The King had been offered help by Rome, but as desperate as the situation had the potential to become, he couldn't accept. If he did, he'd keep his throne for Adrian at the cost of his Kingdom losing it's freedom. They would be a tributary of Rome, and give them the foothold they so eagerly wanted in Greece from which to launch the conquest of the entire land. Pyrrhus, and Adrian after him would be King in name, only, while his Roman "Advisors" pulled his strings. They might even depose Adrian, if his cousin proved easier to control than the Prince was. Jason's ambition would assist them in their quest to take all of Greece.

So Pyrrhus had refused their offer of assistance outright. For now, Rome was content to watch and wait, especially now that Caesar was dead and his own successor remained in question. But there were plenty of Roman Generals who would be ready if either side of this war called them in, like carrion crows at a battlefield, waiting patiently to pick the bones of the dead, completely indifferent as to which they fed upon.

All Leonidas and the citizens of Epirus could do now was prepare themselves as completely as they could, by gathering food, water, and other vital supplies while the rest reinforced the walls and drilled with their weapons in formation. Xena could see that Leonidas and his officers had everything well in hand, but that didn't surprise her a bit. Back when he'd been her own second in command, she'd always delegated her army's logistical concerns to him, and he'd obviously only gotten better at those duties over time.

So for now, Xena would leave the preparations up to him. She could use her time instead to walk the city, getting to know each building, each alley, learning every twist and turn of the streets in anticipation of the day when she'd be fighting in them. Once she was comfortable with the layout of the city she'd volunteer to lead a few sections of drill. She couldn't do more than teach them a few basic tricks in the time they had, but she'd being doing it mostly for the sake of the shot it would give to the militia's morale. Knowing that a famous warrior like Xena was on their side would be an immense encouragement for Epirus' inexperienced troops, even before she did anything concrete to prove her worth. And her reputation should also keep anyone with any second thoughts about staying loyal to their King from being too quick to act, out of fear of what she might do to anyone who betrayed her and her allies.

Sometimes a bad reputation was a handy thing to have, Xena reminded herself wryly. She knew what a potent weapon fear could be in her hands.

But the fear of others was a potent drug, one that she'd been addicted to, once upon a time. That made her fear to use it even more, but Xena'd had four years to beat her addiction, and she knew that she could keep herself under control. She just hoped Gabrielle would return before it got to be too much of a struggle. With the bard at her side, nothing seemed impossible.

Hey all, I just wanted to let you know that all but a page and a half of the next chapter is ready, so I'll be posting it this afternoon sometime. I'm also happy that I've achieved some milestones here at TV.com, reaching level 61, as well as making my 15,000th submission. I've also added my 15th show, a cartoon I watched when I was in high school before I went to school called The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers. I haven't done a ton of work on it yet since I'm working full time on Nikita and Bro'Town, but I'm getting there. I've also had quite a few submissions to moderate for the first time beginning this weekend. I hate denying any of them, and I've done some major editing on a few that I thought were worthy of inclusion in spite of some format problems or lack of context in the original submission, but unfortunately there have been a couple that just didn't work for me, and I had to reject them. I wish I didn't have to refuse any of them, and I think I work with the people as much as I can, but sometimes it's just a subjective decision, like what's funny enough to be on the page, and that's tough. Oh well, it's giving me more sympathy with the editors who have rejected my submissions in the past (at least some of them!).

Gabrielle was filling two mugs at one of the hall's water barrels when Leonidas arrived. He looked to be in his mid thirties from what she could tell, with sandy hair, blue eyes and a tall, wiry physique. He wasn't exactly handsome, but there was a lot of character in his features. It made him quite attractive when he smiled as he did when he saw his former commander before him.

"Xena! How long has it been, twelve years?" he asked heartily in welcome.

"Just thirteen, and I'm glad to see you, too. What are you doing in Epirus? Last I heard, you were a highly decorated Captain in the Theban army."

"Oh, I left them a few years ago. There are no promotions beyond the rank of Captain for anyone who isn't a born Boeotian, so I decided to look for something with a little more future in it, since I'm not getting any younger. But the Theban Generals I served under were pretty happy with the job I did for them, and they recommended me to King Pyrrhus when they heard he was looking for experienced officers. That was good enough to get Pyrrhus to hire me on the spot, and now I'm his Commander-in-Chief. I guess they must have told him about that little maneuver I pulled off at Orchomenus."

"That was a nice piece of fighting," Xena said approvingly. "I'm glad to hear that your King is smart enough to recognize talent when he sees it. But tell me, what's going on here and now?"

"Trouble, for my King and Kingdom. Prince Adrian, the only son of King Pyrrhus has gone missing."

"Kidnapped?" queried Gabrielle.

Leonidas shook his head. "We don't think so. The Prince left a note saying that he was leaving but didn't say why. King Pyrrhus took it very hard, especially on top of the rest of his troubles."

"What troubles?" Xena prompted. Leonidas had always done a thorough job of briefing her when he was her Lieutenant but sometimes she just wished he'd cut to the chase.

Leonidas noticed her impatience wryly. Some things never changed, no matter what else did. "The King is extremely ill, and there's likely to be trouble with the succession. Epirus is a constitutional monarchy, and the constitution says that the throne goes to the eldest legitimate male in the royal line. For years there'd been no question that Adrian was the heir, but all of a sudden King Pyrrhus' nephew Jason of Pherae has laid claim to the crown upon the King's death. He claims he can prove that Adrian isn't the true heir. Nobody here believes him, of course, but Jason's challenge has the whole Kingdom in an uproar. Worst of all, word has just reached us that Jason is putting together an army to seize the throne if he isn't proclaimed Pyrrhus' heir."

"Sounds pretty bad," Xena said with concern. The last thing Greece needed was another internecine war. Every time the rival states of Greece started fighting the entire country grew weaker, leaving them dangerously vulnerable to an outside conqueror like Rome. Julius Caesar and Pompey might be dead but there were undoubtedly plenty of other ambitious Generals just waiting for their chance to make a name for themselves written in another country's blood.

"I still don't understand why you don't think Jason had had something to do with the disappearance of Prince Adrian," Gabrielle stated.

"If Jason wanted the Prince dead he wouldn't call attention to himself with a legal challenge right before he disposed of Adrian. Besides, he can't legally prove his challenge under Epirote law if the Prince isn't present in person to face his charges."

"I see," said Xena thoughtfully. She wasn't entirely convinced that Jason was innocent, but she set that unanswerable question aside for the moment.

"I had planned to go looking for Adrian myself," Leonidas continued, "but with Jason preparing to march on Epirus I can't afford to do that, at least until I know exactly where he is."

"Could you use some help?" Xena offered. She owed him that and more.

The General looked deeply relieved by her offer. "I was hoping you would ask that. I've already got as many men as I can spare combing Greece for any leads on Adrian's whereabouts, but I can definitely use your help getting Epirus ready for the war that's headed our way. And once they do track the Prince down I'll need someone I can completely trust to bring him back safely."

"You've got it," Xena promised without hesitation and then turned to Gabrielle. "Well, I guess I'll have to put off my visit to mom after all. But there's no reason why you can't go to Potidaea, and send a message for me. You can meet me back at Epirus when you're done."

"Are you sure you won't need me?" Gabrielle asked, clearly wanting to go home but not if Xena could use her help.

"Sure I'm sure. I can help Leonidas with all the preliminaries and I'm sure you'll be back in time for the real action. Hopefully by then we'll have some idea where Prince Adrian is and you and I can persuade him to come back. But until then you should have plenty of time to see your family."

"And you can put off seeing your mother again! I swear, Xena, if I didn't know better I'd say this was a set-up," Gabrielle teased her partner.

"Starting a war to avoid my mother?" Xena asked sardonically. "She's a pain, sometimes, but she's not that bad."

"Uh huh," agreed Gabrielle with exaggerated skepticism. "You have to admit, the timing couldn't have been more convenient for you."

"Give it a rest, Gabrielle," Xena growled, not wanting to admit that she secretly enjoyed her best friend's teasing. She was going to miss it over the next few weeks. Fortunately it looked like she was going to be too busy to dwell on her absence.

Gabrielle just smiled at her friend. Of course she knew that this wasn't a plot to avoid her mother and her own grouchy father. But that didn't mean that Xena wasn't any less relieved by this unexpected twist of fate. The legendary Warrior Princess was the bravest person she knew, but Cyrene still possessed the uncanny ability to transform her wayward daughter into a sulky adolescent at times. Xena could only hope that she wouldn't do the same to her own child someday.

"All right, then. I'll see you in about three weeks," Xena told Gabrielle briskly.

They hugged goodbye, then Gabrielle, pausing only long enough to swipe a heel of fresh bread and a chunk of cheese from the mess hall's serving table for her dinner, left the building. Now more than ever she was in a hurry to get home. Xena would be needing her soon, so she didn't have a moment to waste.

Xena watched her beautiful young friend go and then turned back to Leonidas.

"So, where do we start?"

"It feels so good to finally be back in Greece," Gabrielle told her best friend happily.

"You said it," Xena agreed with equal contentment.

For awhile it had seemed as if it would never happen again in this lifetime. If it weren't for an honest-to-Gods miracle, their lifeless bodies would still be nailed to a pair of Roman crosses as a gruesome example to anyone foolish enough to contemplate challenging the might of Julius Caesar and Rome. Even now the brutal memories of their execution haunted the dark corners of their minds, in spite of their miraculous resurrection.

At least we took that bastard Caesar with us. I hope he likes his new empire in the fires of Tartarus, Xena thought to herself with grim satisfaction. She no longer celebrated the painful deaths of her enemies for vengeance's sake, but she had no qualms about enjoying the fruits of justice when it came from the death of someone as deserving as him.

Xena herself had arranged for Caesar's demise to take place at the very moment of his seeming victory over the world, and there'd been no miracle to snatch him from the jaws of death and eternal damnation- Eli's power had been reserved for Xena and Gabrielle alone. Eli had no idea why this was so, but none of them were going to look that gift horse in the mouth at this point. Whatever the reason, some mysterious Divine Presence had channeled new life into the two women, rescuing them from an eternity in Hell. Xena had scant respect for the Olympian Gods, but the unknown Deity that had chosen to save them had her thanks. Still, the debt made her nervous. She didn't mind owing her life to Eli, but his God was a different story. She could only hope that when He decided to call in that favor she would be able to afford His price.

Fortunately, Eli's share of the gift had come without any strings attached. He'd already proven himself a true friend on more than one occasion. She knew that Gabrielle found him particularly compelling with his message of love and peace, and the two women both wished that he had returned to Greece with them. But he'd chosen to remain at his old friend Kaleb's home to study the ancient scriptures stored there, so they'd had to part ways. Only their friends Joxer and Amarice had accompanied them through the mountains into Greece, and even they had left the women when they reached the Kingdom of Illyria.

That meant that for once they had no one to please except themselves. Xena and Gabrielle had decided to visit their respective families, since their loved ones might well have heard the story of their crucifixion, but perhaps not about their miraculous resurrection. Gabrielle had insisted that they deliver that happy news to their families in person so that there wouldn't be any doubt.

That made things a little more difficult for Xena, however, since she had another even more shocking piece of news to share, and it was all the more stunning because the Warrior Princess had absolutely no idea how it had come about. The thought of telling her mother that she was pregnant would make even the Destroyer of Nations shudder, but to admit that she didn't know who the father was would be more than she could handle. It was sad to hope that her mother was so busy planning on how best to spoil her future grandchild that Cyrene would let that little detail slip, but Xena was too wise to count on that. Maybe she'd tell her mother while still in Argo's saddle, and if her mother got too annoying, she could ride away. If Gabrielle hadn't insisted that they see their families, Xena most definitely would have chickened out and sent a letter with no return address, and then just to say that she was still in the land of the living, no mention of her present delicate condition. It wasn't the sort of secret that Xena could keep for long, but she would have taken every moment of peace she could have gotten.

"Just think, in a week we'll be in Potidaea," Gabrielle said a bit dreamily as Xena brooded on the upcoming struggle of keeping her mother from driving her insane.

The bard had been eager to leave the pastoral life of her little village to follow Xena, but she still loved her family dearly. She didn't regret her decision to leave home, but it meant that she never got to see enough of them due to her footloose travels over the world, and even when she did make it home her visits were often marred by conflicts all too common in Greece as well as the rest of the world. Having to keep bandits from raiding the local villages who hadn't gotten the news that the Warrior Princess and her sidekick were on vacation was a pain.

Of course, Xena often welcomed that sort of diversion, especially when Gabrielle's parents started hinting that maybe being with Xena had been a bad idea. It was inevitable that they would see things that way, but it didn't mean that Xena had to like it. And that made her almost as uncomfortable with the idea of seeing Gabrielle's parents as her own mother. "I'm sure your father won't be glad to see me. He still blames me for luring you away from home, you know, and he's not shy about saying so."

Gabrielle grimaced ruefully at her partner's complaint. "That's an understatement. Still, even my father has to admit that we've helped a lot of people over the last few years, including the people of Potidaea, more than once. You're a hero just like Hercules and Jason, and the world needs people like you to protect them."

"And people like you," Xena emphasized to her partner warmly. Too many people underestimated her friend, including herself. They didn't realize how important Gabrielle was to Xena and her quest for atonement, but Xena knew not to take her for granted. She knew that she'd never have had the resolve to accomplish her so-called "heroic deeds" if it weren't for Gabrielle's unconditional love and trust. That made her the real hero in Xena's eyes. Her goodness was the never-ending source for Xena's strength to face evil, whether from outside her or from within, and with her soul mate by her side she felt as if she could accomplish anything, regardless of the personal cost.

Except facing the disapproval of Gabrielle's father Herodotus, that is. Give her a marauding cyclops any day! "Maybe I should just drop you off at Potidaea and go on to Amphipolis alone. You can meet me there when you're ready," Xena told her friend hopefully.

"Are you sure you'd rather deal with your mother than my father? I mean, he may have a grudge against you but he's not going to freak out when word gets out that you're pregnant?"

"Not unless I tell him you're the father," Xena said with a smirk.

Gabrielle giggled at the thought and then continued. "Think about it. The last time we were there Cyrene must have paraded every eligible bachelor in town past you hoping that you'd pick a winner and settle down. Now you're going to tell her she's about to become a grandmother to a child with no father!"

"You have a point," Xena observed darkly. Then she sighed. "I guess I'll have to do it sometime. At least if I do it now I'll still be able to outrun her. And I also won't have to deal with you laughing at me behind my back while I tell her."

"Xena, would I do that?" Gabrielle asked, her eyes wide with patented innocence that was anything but. It certainly didn't fool Xena.

"In a heartbeat," she growled, trying to remain stern but failing miserably when she saw the light of laughter in her friend's eyes. The bard's warm gaze melted the last of her irritation, and the day became brighter because of it.

"What would I do without you?" Xena questioned her in a gentler, almost wondering voice.

"You'll never have to find out," her friend promised her. She and Xena had spent their lives, deaths, and resurrection side by side, and after that nothing in the universe could threaten the bond that they shared. Even death lost it's sting when they faced it together.

They shared a silent moment of appreciation and rode on in silence. They were only a few hours of daylight left and they wanted to travel as many miles as possible before they stopped for the night.

They were following the coastal road down the length of Illyria. By midmorning of the next day they'd reach a fork in the road, one branch heading east towards Macedonia and the other continuing due south to Epirus. Potidaea was located on a slender finger of land jutting out into the Thracian Sea, so they'd swing east onto the Edessan Highway at the fork. Xena's hometown of Amphipolis was a few day's ride farther northeast, just beyond the border of Macedonia in Thrace, so Xena would accompany Gabrielle most of the way before they split for their respective hometowns.

They could have gone overland more directly through the northern mountains of Illyria to save some time, but Xena knew that the detour down the coastal road was safer. She'd had enough trouble for awhile, and wasn't looking for a fight. After a week with her mother she'd be more than ready to bust some heads. Besides, she was in no hurry to get there, so why not play it safe? Illyria was full of bandits and pirates, but the main coastal road was regularly patrolled by the militia of the settlements dotting it's length in order to protect the vital trade route. Add in the fact that the two women possessed little in the way of visible wealth to tempt a thief, as well as the fact that they were obviously well able to defend themselves, and it seemed unlikely that they would run into any real trouble. Only an extremely stupid or desperate thief would choose to tangle with them for so little possible gain, and they'd get their posteriors kicked up beneath their teeth if they tried up.

Up to that point they'd enjoyed an uncharacteristically quiet journey. At first there had been few other travelers sharing their road but as they got closer to the border with the Kingdom of Epirus traffic had become heavier. Once they reached the border itself there was a large crowd of people, all being questioned by Epirote soldiers. Xena and Gabrielle winced at the inevitable delay but joined the throng waiting to be questioned.

"What do you think this is about?" Gabrielle asked her friend. Most countries contented themselves with exacting a toll for passage into their lands and allowed those who paid them to enter unhindered. The only exception came when a country was at war, but that seemed unlikely, since they hadn't heard any rumors on that subject as they'd traveled.

"I don't know," Xena told her partner, "but I think we're about to find out."

Her observation was prompted by a the sight of a squadron of soldiers striding purposefully in their direction. That earned the two women glares from the other people who'd been waiting in line for their turn to be cleared for passage into the Kingdom. But Xena could have told them that the soldiers would always be more concerned about a warrior entering the country if it was indeed at war than they would a farmer or tradesman.

"State your names and business in Epirus," they were ordered by the squad's sergeant.

"My name is Xena, and this is my friend Gabrielle. We're on our way to Macedonia to see our families and had planned to take the Edessan Highway to get there," she explained to him.

"Xena, the Warrior Princess?" he asked, but he didn't seem surprised. Someone obviously had recognized her and told the soldiers who they had before them.

"Yeah, that's right," Xena said easily. She didn't have any enemies in this part of Greece, as far as she knew.

"My commander will want to speak with you personally," the squad's leader told her politely but firmly. "Please come with me."

"All right, we'll come. But tell me, who's your commander, and why would he want to talk to me?" Xena asked as she followed him. She might not have any enemies, but there were still those who were wary of the Warrior Princess. The Gods knew there were plenty of people with a grudge against her out there. If this man's commanding officer was one of them she could be walking into a trap.

"General Leonidas is in charge here, but I'm afraid he'll have to explain his reasons for needing to speak to you himself," he told her apologetically.

"Leonidas?" Xena repeated with surprise. "The same Leonidas that led Thebes' reserves to pull off that reverse against the Phocians in the Sacred War?"

"That's him, all right," he affirmed proudly. Serving under a General of Leonidas' distinction was an honor, as a warrior like Xena obviously appreciated.

"Xena, do you know this guy?" Gabrielle asked, not that it would surprise her. The Warrior Princess was a regular Who's Who of fighting men worthy of note, as well as some who weren't so worthy.

"He's an old friend and comrade," Xena told the younger woman. "In fact, he was my chief Lieutenant back in the early days when I was still focused on protecting Amphipolis from her enemies. Leonidas was recuperating from a fairly nasty wound at Abdera when I captured Caesar and tried to hold him for ransom. Maybe if I'd had him there to watch my back Caesar wouldn't have gotten the chance to betray me."

"Sounds like a good man."

"One of the best," Xena agreed with a faraway look in her eyes. Then she snapped herself out of it and returned her attention to the sergeant. "Let's go."

The sergeant nodded and motioned his squad to fall in as an honor guard. They arrived at the Epirote garrison's stronghold a short time later. The two women passed their horses' bridles to a pair of grooms standing by and followed the sergeant inside. He brought them to a large, open room that served as the garrison's mess hall and left them there while he went to go get his commander.

Well, I knocked out part of the first chapter today, but the chapters are twice as long in this novel than in the first one, so it's taking me longer to get it done. But I have decided that no matter what, I am going to have it done on Sunday, so you can be certain that it will be up, and in the meantime, not hang around hoping.:P I'm also excited to officially become the editor of Nikita, and start watching a new season of Top Chef. I don't have a real favorite candidate yet, but I have to admit, being the editor of so many Kiwi shows and actors, I want to see Mark from New Zealand make it into the finals.:D I've also finished watching the first season of my new cartoon Bro'Town, and I've got to say, it's hialrious. I thought it would be a Kiwi Simpsons, and it is, but it's even more irreverant, even approaching South Park territory.:D I don't watch either of those shows regularly, but I have in the past, and I do appreciate the absurd when it's well done. I think this shows does it well. If you ever get a chance to watch it, give it a shot, and let me know what you think.:)

Okay, here's the last excuse about not getting the first chapter up yet. Today I asked the La Femme Nikita editor who recently made me trusted if I should slow down a bit on my submissions for the show because I was getting a bit close and didn't want to inadvertantly take over. To my great surprise, he retired, which means I should become the new editor tomorrow morning! This is one of my top three favorite shows of all time, so imagine how pleased I was! Of course, that made me want to do a little extra work on the guide today, so I'm afraid I'm begging off again. But like I told BB, unless the Xena editor messages me tonight and says that she's retiring Saturday and I have one day to become the number two contributor, I won't let anything stop me from typing it up tomorrow after work. So thanks for your patience, and I'll see you all here tomorrow!:D