A Hopeful Bard (10/?)
Title: A Hopeful Bard (9/?)
Rating: R
Status: In Progress
Author: maggiemerc
Characters/Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle, Conqueror fic
Disclaimer: Do not own them. The only profit I seek is an ego boost from good feedback.
Summary: The Conqueror (though she'd really prefer you call her the Empress) meets the Playwright (a title she's totally fine with). There's some verbal sparring. Some physical sparring. Some gods. Some emperors. Maybe some ribald comedy.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
#
Since Eve had come into her life Gabrielle had never travelled without her. Visits into town or the outlying country yes, but never more than a day’s ride and certainly never to as distant a place as Corinth.
A little war had raged in her mind over what to do with Eve. Gabrielle, as the Governor of Apollonia, was required to attend the annual Congress in the capitol city. Taking Eve was out of the question. Corinth was a pit of vipers every bit as nasty as Rome or Alexandria. She’d be a fool to bring her daughter-her only real weakness-into such a nest.
But leaving her in Apollonia set Gabrielle’s teeth on edge.
“A mother’s concern,” Euripides had said with a swish of his hand.
But Sappho had watched her with dark and knowing eyes. Finally making her own plea as they spent a languid evening in bed, “You have to keep her here.”
She’d touched her lover’s elbow. Idly running callused and ink stain fingers across her tan skin. “I can’t watch her here.”
“You wish to keep her safe? To keep people from noticing her?”
Gabrielle said nothing as it was a rhetorical question. One they both knew the answer to.
“Then keep her here. With Palaemon and Diomedes keeping watch she’ll be safe.”
“And away from me.”
“You are already unusual Gabrielle. Bringing your daughter to Xena’s Congress will only make you more so. It will draw unwanted attention.”
Gabrielle rolled over onto her back and stared at the intricate carvings in the ceiling overhead. “I’m stuck between Scylla and Charybdis.”
Sappho smiled and leaned over Gabrielle kissing her gently, “You always are.”
Gabrielle reached up and snaked her arms around Sappho’s waist, “In this particular situation which are you,” she murmured against the other woman’s neck.
Sappho gasped and tilted her head, giving Gabrielle better access, “The whirlpool seems apt today.”
“Dirty.”
“Filthy.”
#
A week later Gabrielle rode into the capital city of Xena’s empire. Corinth rested on a land bridge that connected the two portions of Greece. Its position made it the quickest route from the Mediterraneans and the east to the heart of Greece and as such was supported by two large harbors.
This also meant the city was wealthy, wealthier than Apollonia even. And the wealth was apparent miles from the city’s center. The Corinthians built tall multicolored pillars. The capitals of the pillars were extravagantly carved. Scrolls, greenery and even human faces were etched into the stone. But many of the pillars were so tall and the capitals so intricate that they couldn’t even be appreciated from the ground.
Nevertheless Gabrielle found herself staring at the architecture as she slowly made her way through the city. Many cities were drab monoliths of stone and marble. They shined in the sun but were tedious in their colors. Not Corinth. Everywhere she looked Gabrielle could see the countless dinars sunk into the city. Every wall had a murals made of paint or tile, every home had a brightly colored statue guarding its door.
Even the people dressed differently. The men and women both shined in the sun, covered in expensive oils from Persia, dressed in dyed silks from Chin and embossed leather from the Amazons. They walked with a jingle, festooned in gold and silver and copper. A greasy merchant smiled at Gabrielle and his teeth glimmered in the light, each tooth covered in gold.
And at the heart of the extensive city stood the Acrocorinth. It was the seat of Xena’s power. Once upon a time it had been a simple monolithic stone lurking over the harbors of Corinth, but now it was a fortress and a palace with a series of twenty foot tall walls built into the stone that stood hundreds of feet above the city.
Everything that Xena was was seen in that palace. It was inescapable and undefeatable. Gorgeous, but with battlements enough to lay waste to the entire city. A single road of rough hewn marble curved up into the palace like a sinister pale snake.
From her studies Gabrielle new that the highest point in the palace had once been a temple of Aphrodite, but Xena had razed the temple to the ground and built a palace in its stead. The palace faced away from the sea, back towards the bulk of Xena’s empire.
Aphrodite’s new temple was smaller and built at the opposite end of the rock, where it served as one side of a vast courtyard of cobbled stone and gravel. Gabrielle resisted the urge to nod at the temple as she passed. Whatever her relationship with Aphrodite might be she’d never acknowledge it in Corinth.
Already she could feel the furtive glances of the people-wondering about the small woman who travelled with a retinue of soldiers. Gabrielle had meant to change before entering the city. She’d even had a specific outfit in mind. A green dress that would have required the side saddle buried somewhere in her small supply train. But at the first site of the multicolored jewel of Corinth excitement had taken hold. She’d forced her company into a trot and moved quickly through the city and up the pale road to the Acrocorinth. There were three large gates she had to pass through before arriving at Xena’s palace. Aphrodite’s temple and the large courtyard stood between the second and third gate. The first two had been easy enough to pass. Red cloaked guards had nodded and moved aside. But the third gate was guarded by men and women cloaked in purple and they only opened the gate when Gabrielle drew out the official summons Xena had left behind.
Once through she found herself staring up at Xena’s palace. It was even more impressive up close. The Corinthians pillars that supported it were black as obsidian with accents of gold. The courtyard was a series of murals in grey and white and black polished stones that told the story of Xena’s conquest of Greece, Indus and Chin.
She noted that Xena herself appeared in each mural and that her eyes glimmered blue. As her horse’s hooves clacked over the visage of Xena single handedly slaughtering the combined forces of Chin Gabrielle realized the blue stones were in fact sapphires. It was an absurd show of opulence…and of power. Xena could pave her streets with wealth and never fear a thief.
The steps leading up to the palace were made of a dark gray granite that would no doubt turn black at the first hint of rain. The person who stood on the steps patiently waiting was not Xena. Instead it was a round little man in a toga of Xena’s color. He did not take the steps down to greet her but remained, patiently waiting for Gabrielle to dismount and approach. He had a quill and scroll in his hands and jotted something down as he waited, but Gabrielle quickly noticed that his hands were flawless. Not a single ink stain on the pudgy pink fingers.
“And finally, the governor of Apollonia,” he said in a voice just deep enough to eschew ridicule. “When your ship arrived empty there were concerns.”
Gabrielle smiled weakly and tried not to think of the rocking of wood on water, “I’m afraid boats and I have an acrimonious relationship. We came over land.”
“And brought half the dust of Greece with you.”
For a seneschal Xena’s man had a mouth. Gabrielle had never met a seneschal so glib with guests. It meant the man was loyal to Xena, and more importantly, she was loyal to him.
“I half expected the Empress to greet us.”
“The Empress is busy expanding the empire and avoiding her governors before Congress. I’ve been told that should any of you seek her out before she seeks you out that heads will roll.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Governors are easy enough to appoint. A seneschal as gifted as me is another matter entirely.”
“I’ll remember that. I assume you have quarters for me? I’d like to get clean and attend to business in the city.”
He jotted something down on his scroll, “Just remember. The gates close two hours after dusk. Anyone caught on the other side is stuck there until dawn.”
“Any exceptions,” Gabrielle asked with a roguish little grin.
The seneschal looked up, “None,” he said flatly. His face immediately brightened. “Now let me escort you to your quarters.”
#
In the shadow of her balcony Xena learned she had an excellent command of the palace without sacrificing anonymity. She could sit there and spend the entire afternoon sipping wine and watching the governors arrive one after the other.
Athens came with a retinue of writers and poets and singers who milled about the courtyard for an hour before Vidalis scattered them. Sparta arrived with twice the number of allowed soldiers. And they were all oiled shirtless men armed only with a short sword, javelin and shield. Ithaca arrived with a swagger that he really shouldn’t have possessed. The man got lost for years making his way home and now whenever he arrived in Corinth it was as though he’d found his way by accident and expected praise for the accomplishment.
Finally, only a few hours before sunset, the Playwright arrived. Her retinue was small, smaller even than Eretria. Whereas other governors arrived displaying their wealth and prowess like peacocks, the Playwright was unobtrusive. She hadn’t even bothered to change and road in astride a magnificent looking horse wearing dusty red and brown riding leathers.
It might have irritated Xena but her mouth watered at the simple sight of the other woman.
And hour after the Playwright arrived and disappeared into the palace her horse was brought back out, this time sporting an evil looking side saddle. The Playwright then appeared in a dress the same color as the water of the harbor. Her hair had been lifted off her neck and into a series of curls and she’d found time to adorn herself in jewelry and makeup.
Her horse was led out and then the two men leading it realized at the last moment that she’d require a stool to mount the beast. The Playwright tried to dissuade them but the men insisted and ran back towards the stable. Then the Playwright looked around for spectators, and not spying Xena, she lifted herself nimbly into the saddle, her tan arms flexing strikingly as she did so. She quickly pushed her horse into a canter and fled the area. When the stablemen returned with gilded stool they found nothing left but a bit of horse dung.
The episode made Xena, perhaps a little inebriated, snicker.
“What has you so amused?”
Xena had to twist in her seat to watch Marcus approach. He was still wearing the day’s uniform, bronze and copper adorned armor in the Roman style, with a great purple cloak. He had an easy smile on his face-no doubt because he was one of the few people in the palace who looked forward to Congress. Largely because he liked to see his Empress brow beat her governors.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home to fall into the arms of that wife?”
“I should, but I realized I hadn’t seen my Empress since her meeting with the advisors this morning. Then someone mentioned that the kitchen had been running wine to your quarters since before lunch.”
“Someone had to sample the wines before that feast tomorrow.”
“Or get drunk and hide out on her balcony.”
“Or that.”
“That new governor you appointed arrived. Vidalis can’t stand her.”
“That’s because she’s the only one he couldn’t get a rise out of. He’s been insulting every single one when they arrived.”
“And you’ve been sitting here watching?”
“And drinking,” she raised her cup in toast before taking a large gulp.
“She also left not long after she arrived. I have a man following her.”
Xena shrugged, “I doubt that’s necessary. She has a play opening in two days. She’s probably sitting in on rehearsals. It’s good too, if she didn’t change anything. I’m thinking of having it performed at the feast tomorrow.”
“Since when do you like plays?”
“Since they insult Rome. This one’s so nasty Caesar will probably put a bounty on her head.”
He stared at Xena long and hard-clearly pondering some question. Finally he asked, “Is that why you raised her up to governor? To start something with Rome?”
“She’s also good for Apollonia.”
“But Rome is at the heart of it. You know we can’t afford a war with them right now.”
“According to you we can never afford a war with Rome.”
“Because we’ve got an enclave of centaurs and Amazons in the center of Thrace and an empire that extends all the way to the edge of Chin. We’re stretched too far.”
“Not if we lure Rome into Greece. Caesar likes to use his armies like a spear and stab straight through to the center. We only have to surround his forces to have him.”
“That will work the first few times, but you seem to forget, as you often do, that Rome’s expanded clear up into Britannia and halfway through Africa. War with them will be long and brutal and if Persia takes notice-“
“Darius is an idiot.”
“Who hates you nearly as much as you hate Caesar.”
Marcus tried to approach her then. To comfort her. Maybe draw her into a hug. He often resorted to physical affection when Xena’s temper was riled. But it wasn’t nearly as fun now that he’d found love and a wife. Now his touch was like that of a brother and Xena was too drunk and bothered to be soothed by fraternal affection.
She shrugged her shoulders and moved away from his warm hands.
“Go home,” she said, effectively ending the conversation.
Marcus, despite being the best friend and confidante she had, was loathe to fight her. Once upon a time he’d been her conscience. But ten years of companionship had built a distance between them. He became a loyal follower and she became a leader and their quarrels, friendly and invigorating as they were, ended.
Ten years ago Marcus would have stayed until he forced Xena to put away her dreams of invading Rome. But now he simply nodded and left in a billow of shining armor and bright fabric.
And was immediately replaced by a niggling feeling at the front of Xena’s brain. It’d been there all day like the beginning of a migraine. A reminder of the world around Xena and the bargains she’d made. But as the sun set and the palace prepared for a quiet evening the feeling grew more insistent, until it became a buzzing.
“Don’t you think it’s a little weird to quietly watch a woman while’s she’s alone,” she finally said.
There was a flash of light like lightening glinting off of steel and Xena’s own personal devil appeared leaning against the balustrade. Ares was a tall and imposing man who tended toward all black with little flourishes of silver and red. He always seemed to have a cocky smile on his face and his dark eyes always hinted at a frightening knowledge of the world beyond the mortal one. Just a glance told you he wasn’t a man, but a god, and in Xena’s quest for an empire she’d all but sold her soul to him.
“I was watching you and tall, dark and brooding chat. For a second there I thought I was going to have to give you two a moment. He was giving you a…tender look.”
“He’s married.”
“So’s everyone woman who tastes the sword of War.”
The pun was awful but the lascivious look on his face still sent a tingle through Xena. There was another flash and he straddle Xena’s seat.
“I missed you,” he said in as tender a tone as a god of war was capable of.
“I don’t know why. I’ve been right here.”
He shook his head, “You went to Apollonia and were hidden from me. It was only earlier today you became visible.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Aphrodite’s apparently taken an interest in you.”
That sent a pang through Xena. Memories of nights alone listening to Gabrielle’s stories flashed through her head. The pang of lust she’d felt at the sight of Gabrielle-at the sight of Ares-turned into something pure and bright and utterly abnormal.
“Uh oh. Is that the look of love I see,” his voice was teasing, but his eyes never lied. They were dark with malicious thought.
“Look of lust. I’m ten sheets to the wind and bored. Care to conquer Greece.”
“Thanks but no thanks. As much as I love planting my spear in Grecian soil it’s not the same when the soil’s pickled in wine. Instead let’s talk about Rome.”
“Marcus says no.”
“Marcus can be dealt with,” he took the wine from her hands and leaned in close. He smelled of blood and leather and sharp steel, “As can Rome.”
#
Gabrielle made it back through the palace gates just as they prepared the close. The guards at each gate eyed her crankily but let her pass. At the courtyard a young stableboy, different then the men she’d met earlier, came out to take her horse and sullenly watch her dismount. He didn’t offer a hand or a stool, just held her horse’s reigns and watched.
Inside the palace was a buzz with hundreds of new guests. She could hear the laughter and the clink of cups of wine. Servants fluttered in and out of rooms with plates of cheese and bowls of olives and freshly roasted lamb on spits. She caught glimpses into the rooms and saw governors meeting with other governors and Xena’s advisors plotting and laughing and preparing for the quickly arriving Congress.
She did not hear Xena joining the revelry in the rooms she passed.
Her own quarters were at the top of the palace overlooking the courtyard. If she leaned just so she could even see out into the southern harbor where ships from Persia and Egypt and Africa moored.
In the comfort of her quarters, far away from the plotting of her fellow governors, Gabrielle allowed herself a sigh. She changed from the blue dress she’d worn to watch her play rehearse and chose a pale pink gown of diaphanous silk to wear to bed.
The play was going well. Her actors were vibrant and the direction was sharp. The producers had asked her to reconsider a few lines. Apparently insinuating Rome was built on the backs of slaves and full of fat old men was bad form. She’s happily declined. As the governor of one of Xena’s most wealthy provinces Gabrielle now had power-political power. She’d experienced bits of political power before, but never had the kind recognized by the rest of the known world.
Down in Corinth people seemed to have known who she was despite never seeing a picture. They nodded and cleared the way. Even at the playhouse they’d referred to her as Governor instead of Playwright.
She’d come quite a distance from the tenacious teen of Potidea.
Gabrielle poured herself a glass of wine, it was a late vintage that clung to the walls of her cup. It was rich and tasted acutely of grapes and spice. It was the sort of wine that really needed to be cut by fresh spring water, but Gabrielle was tired and willing to have the cloying touch of sugar on her tongue. She took her glass, and the bottle, out onto the balcony and surveyed the scene before her.
Even in the dark if Gabrielle squinted she could see the edges of Greece beyond the isthmus Corinth was built on. Though the sea was near, thousands of people, beasts and buildings lay between her and the water. She couldn’t smell the sea from the palace, only the roasting meats the kitchen made.
Down in the courtyard a few children, from the stables it looked like, dashed across the murals laughing and battling each other with long sticks-javelins in their minds’ eye.
The quarters near Gabrielle’s own were all dark at the early hour. Their residents still down in the meeting halls below, plotting the Congress.
All but one room. High above the others and directly over the stairs into the palace the warm glow of a brazier caught her eye. Instinctively Gabrielle knew that was Xena’s apartments. She squinted-hoping to see the Empress-but there were only harsh shadows and the glow of the brazier.
#
Far above, still in her happy hovel of shadows, Xena saw Gabrielle appear on her balcony. Her breath caught in her throat as involuntary and difficult feelings welled up inside of her. If she rose from her chair, took a single step out into the light of the night Gabrielle would see her.
But what then? Would they share a look across the courtyard? A smile? Silently commune over the respective bottles on wine. Or would Gabrielle turn away? Return to her quarters to write some letter to her cow-eyed poet.
Indecision robbed Xena of action and Gabrielle soon went inside.
#
High above the palace, in a place no mortal could tread, Ares watched his chosen warrior drink herself into a stupor. Though she hid in the shadows his eyes were sharper than any human’s and he saw the look of longing. It was foreign and ugly on Xena. Something he’d thought she buried years before.
With a flash he was in the woman’s bedroom. She was fast asleep and sprawled across her bed. Her hair was straw-like and her body was short-squat. The body of a little slave or farm girl who’d never known the pleasures of the world.
Something about the woman rankled Ares and without a second thought a sword appeared in his hand. It’d be easy enough to kill the woman while she slept. She was one of Xena’s governors and no doubt had enemies of her own. They’d be blamed and Ares would have his Xena back. The wine swilling moper currently there in her stead would disappear.
He held the sword over his head. Prepared to thrust down.
Then there was a swirl of pink light like the petals of a rose, “Back off bro,” Aphrodite said as soon as she’d materialized.
“Kind of busy sis.”
“Yeah, trying to kill me peeps. Not cool.”
“She’s one of yours?”
“Duh. I’m not officially a muse or anything but who do you think copy edits her plays? Clearly the touch of the divine.”
Ares weighed his options in the blink of a mortal’s eye then brought his sword down. It was a sharp blade made by Aphrodite’s husband. A blade that would cut through steel and flesh alike. Before the edge could meet the little woman’s flesh Aphrodite hit him with something…pink.
“Oh come on sis!”
“No killing Gabby Ares. Now go start a war or something.”
A flash of pink and Aphrodite came between Ares and the sleeping woman. She had that resolved look on her face. The one she got when she had to beg their father for a favor and would accept nothing but a yes. She made a shooing motion, “I mean it,” she said, “get going.”
Ares looked over her shoulder at the sleeping woman. She really was just a mortal. They could be manipulated. Dealt with. And murdering her in her sleep wasn’t exactly Ares’s style. Already a plan was forming. One devious enough that Aphrodite and her little friend would never even see it.
“Yeah okay,” he said. His sword disappeared and in an instant he and Aphrodite were both gone.
#
That night Gabrielle dreamt of war and love and a blue-eyed women with a gaze that never wavered.
Rating: R
Status: In Progress
Author: maggiemerc
Characters/Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle, Conqueror fic
Disclaimer: Do not own them. The only profit I seek is an ego boost from good feedback.
Summary: The Conqueror (though she'd really prefer you call her the Empress) meets the Playwright (a title she's totally fine with). There's some verbal sparring. Some physical sparring. Some gods. Some emperors. Maybe some ribald comedy.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
#
Since Eve had come into her life Gabrielle had never travelled without her. Visits into town or the outlying country yes, but never more than a day’s ride and certainly never to as distant a place as Corinth.
A little war had raged in her mind over what to do with Eve. Gabrielle, as the Governor of Apollonia, was required to attend the annual Congress in the capitol city. Taking Eve was out of the question. Corinth was a pit of vipers every bit as nasty as Rome or Alexandria. She’d be a fool to bring her daughter-her only real weakness-into such a nest.
But leaving her in Apollonia set Gabrielle’s teeth on edge.
“A mother’s concern,” Euripides had said with a swish of his hand.
But Sappho had watched her with dark and knowing eyes. Finally making her own plea as they spent a languid evening in bed, “You have to keep her here.”
She’d touched her lover’s elbow. Idly running callused and ink stain fingers across her tan skin. “I can’t watch her here.”
“You wish to keep her safe? To keep people from noticing her?”
Gabrielle said nothing as it was a rhetorical question. One they both knew the answer to.
“Then keep her here. With Palaemon and Diomedes keeping watch she’ll be safe.”
“And away from me.”
“You are already unusual Gabrielle. Bringing your daughter to Xena’s Congress will only make you more so. It will draw unwanted attention.”
Gabrielle rolled over onto her back and stared at the intricate carvings in the ceiling overhead. “I’m stuck between Scylla and Charybdis.”
Sappho smiled and leaned over Gabrielle kissing her gently, “You always are.”
Gabrielle reached up and snaked her arms around Sappho’s waist, “In this particular situation which are you,” she murmured against the other woman’s neck.
Sappho gasped and tilted her head, giving Gabrielle better access, “The whirlpool seems apt today.”
“Dirty.”
“Filthy.”
#
A week later Gabrielle rode into the capital city of Xena’s empire. Corinth rested on a land bridge that connected the two portions of Greece. Its position made it the quickest route from the Mediterraneans and the east to the heart of Greece and as such was supported by two large harbors.
This also meant the city was wealthy, wealthier than Apollonia even. And the wealth was apparent miles from the city’s center. The Corinthians built tall multicolored pillars. The capitals of the pillars were extravagantly carved. Scrolls, greenery and even human faces were etched into the stone. But many of the pillars were so tall and the capitals so intricate that they couldn’t even be appreciated from the ground.
Nevertheless Gabrielle found herself staring at the architecture as she slowly made her way through the city. Many cities were drab monoliths of stone and marble. They shined in the sun but were tedious in their colors. Not Corinth. Everywhere she looked Gabrielle could see the countless dinars sunk into the city. Every wall had a murals made of paint or tile, every home had a brightly colored statue guarding its door.
Even the people dressed differently. The men and women both shined in the sun, covered in expensive oils from Persia, dressed in dyed silks from Chin and embossed leather from the Amazons. They walked with a jingle, festooned in gold and silver and copper. A greasy merchant smiled at Gabrielle and his teeth glimmered in the light, each tooth covered in gold.
And at the heart of the extensive city stood the Acrocorinth. It was the seat of Xena’s power. Once upon a time it had been a simple monolithic stone lurking over the harbors of Corinth, but now it was a fortress and a palace with a series of twenty foot tall walls built into the stone that stood hundreds of feet above the city.
Everything that Xena was was seen in that palace. It was inescapable and undefeatable. Gorgeous, but with battlements enough to lay waste to the entire city. A single road of rough hewn marble curved up into the palace like a sinister pale snake.
From her studies Gabrielle new that the highest point in the palace had once been a temple of Aphrodite, but Xena had razed the temple to the ground and built a palace in its stead. The palace faced away from the sea, back towards the bulk of Xena’s empire.
Aphrodite’s new temple was smaller and built at the opposite end of the rock, where it served as one side of a vast courtyard of cobbled stone and gravel. Gabrielle resisted the urge to nod at the temple as she passed. Whatever her relationship with Aphrodite might be she’d never acknowledge it in Corinth.
Already she could feel the furtive glances of the people-wondering about the small woman who travelled with a retinue of soldiers. Gabrielle had meant to change before entering the city. She’d even had a specific outfit in mind. A green dress that would have required the side saddle buried somewhere in her small supply train. But at the first site of the multicolored jewel of Corinth excitement had taken hold. She’d forced her company into a trot and moved quickly through the city and up the pale road to the Acrocorinth. There were three large gates she had to pass through before arriving at Xena’s palace. Aphrodite’s temple and the large courtyard stood between the second and third gate. The first two had been easy enough to pass. Red cloaked guards had nodded and moved aside. But the third gate was guarded by men and women cloaked in purple and they only opened the gate when Gabrielle drew out the official summons Xena had left behind.
Once through she found herself staring up at Xena’s palace. It was even more impressive up close. The Corinthians pillars that supported it were black as obsidian with accents of gold. The courtyard was a series of murals in grey and white and black polished stones that told the story of Xena’s conquest of Greece, Indus and Chin.
She noted that Xena herself appeared in each mural and that her eyes glimmered blue. As her horse’s hooves clacked over the visage of Xena single handedly slaughtering the combined forces of Chin Gabrielle realized the blue stones were in fact sapphires. It was an absurd show of opulence…and of power. Xena could pave her streets with wealth and never fear a thief.
The steps leading up to the palace were made of a dark gray granite that would no doubt turn black at the first hint of rain. The person who stood on the steps patiently waiting was not Xena. Instead it was a round little man in a toga of Xena’s color. He did not take the steps down to greet her but remained, patiently waiting for Gabrielle to dismount and approach. He had a quill and scroll in his hands and jotted something down as he waited, but Gabrielle quickly noticed that his hands were flawless. Not a single ink stain on the pudgy pink fingers.
“And finally, the governor of Apollonia,” he said in a voice just deep enough to eschew ridicule. “When your ship arrived empty there were concerns.”
Gabrielle smiled weakly and tried not to think of the rocking of wood on water, “I’m afraid boats and I have an acrimonious relationship. We came over land.”
“And brought half the dust of Greece with you.”
For a seneschal Xena’s man had a mouth. Gabrielle had never met a seneschal so glib with guests. It meant the man was loyal to Xena, and more importantly, she was loyal to him.
“I half expected the Empress to greet us.”
“The Empress is busy expanding the empire and avoiding her governors before Congress. I’ve been told that should any of you seek her out before she seeks you out that heads will roll.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Governors are easy enough to appoint. A seneschal as gifted as me is another matter entirely.”
“I’ll remember that. I assume you have quarters for me? I’d like to get clean and attend to business in the city.”
He jotted something down on his scroll, “Just remember. The gates close two hours after dusk. Anyone caught on the other side is stuck there until dawn.”
“Any exceptions,” Gabrielle asked with a roguish little grin.
The seneschal looked up, “None,” he said flatly. His face immediately brightened. “Now let me escort you to your quarters.”
#
In the shadow of her balcony Xena learned she had an excellent command of the palace without sacrificing anonymity. She could sit there and spend the entire afternoon sipping wine and watching the governors arrive one after the other.
Athens came with a retinue of writers and poets and singers who milled about the courtyard for an hour before Vidalis scattered them. Sparta arrived with twice the number of allowed soldiers. And they were all oiled shirtless men armed only with a short sword, javelin and shield. Ithaca arrived with a swagger that he really shouldn’t have possessed. The man got lost for years making his way home and now whenever he arrived in Corinth it was as though he’d found his way by accident and expected praise for the accomplishment.
Finally, only a few hours before sunset, the Playwright arrived. Her retinue was small, smaller even than Eretria. Whereas other governors arrived displaying their wealth and prowess like peacocks, the Playwright was unobtrusive. She hadn’t even bothered to change and road in astride a magnificent looking horse wearing dusty red and brown riding leathers.
It might have irritated Xena but her mouth watered at the simple sight of the other woman.
And hour after the Playwright arrived and disappeared into the palace her horse was brought back out, this time sporting an evil looking side saddle. The Playwright then appeared in a dress the same color as the water of the harbor. Her hair had been lifted off her neck and into a series of curls and she’d found time to adorn herself in jewelry and makeup.
Her horse was led out and then the two men leading it realized at the last moment that she’d require a stool to mount the beast. The Playwright tried to dissuade them but the men insisted and ran back towards the stable. Then the Playwright looked around for spectators, and not spying Xena, she lifted herself nimbly into the saddle, her tan arms flexing strikingly as she did so. She quickly pushed her horse into a canter and fled the area. When the stablemen returned with gilded stool they found nothing left but a bit of horse dung.
The episode made Xena, perhaps a little inebriated, snicker.
“What has you so amused?”
Xena had to twist in her seat to watch Marcus approach. He was still wearing the day’s uniform, bronze and copper adorned armor in the Roman style, with a great purple cloak. He had an easy smile on his face-no doubt because he was one of the few people in the palace who looked forward to Congress. Largely because he liked to see his Empress brow beat her governors.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home to fall into the arms of that wife?”
“I should, but I realized I hadn’t seen my Empress since her meeting with the advisors this morning. Then someone mentioned that the kitchen had been running wine to your quarters since before lunch.”
“Someone had to sample the wines before that feast tomorrow.”
“Or get drunk and hide out on her balcony.”
“Or that.”
“That new governor you appointed arrived. Vidalis can’t stand her.”
“That’s because she’s the only one he couldn’t get a rise out of. He’s been insulting every single one when they arrived.”
“And you’ve been sitting here watching?”
“And drinking,” she raised her cup in toast before taking a large gulp.
“She also left not long after she arrived. I have a man following her.”
Xena shrugged, “I doubt that’s necessary. She has a play opening in two days. She’s probably sitting in on rehearsals. It’s good too, if she didn’t change anything. I’m thinking of having it performed at the feast tomorrow.”
“Since when do you like plays?”
“Since they insult Rome. This one’s so nasty Caesar will probably put a bounty on her head.”
He stared at Xena long and hard-clearly pondering some question. Finally he asked, “Is that why you raised her up to governor? To start something with Rome?”
“She’s also good for Apollonia.”
“But Rome is at the heart of it. You know we can’t afford a war with them right now.”
“According to you we can never afford a war with Rome.”
“Because we’ve got an enclave of centaurs and Amazons in the center of Thrace and an empire that extends all the way to the edge of Chin. We’re stretched too far.”
“Not if we lure Rome into Greece. Caesar likes to use his armies like a spear and stab straight through to the center. We only have to surround his forces to have him.”
“That will work the first few times, but you seem to forget, as you often do, that Rome’s expanded clear up into Britannia and halfway through Africa. War with them will be long and brutal and if Persia takes notice-“
“Darius is an idiot.”
“Who hates you nearly as much as you hate Caesar.”
Marcus tried to approach her then. To comfort her. Maybe draw her into a hug. He often resorted to physical affection when Xena’s temper was riled. But it wasn’t nearly as fun now that he’d found love and a wife. Now his touch was like that of a brother and Xena was too drunk and bothered to be soothed by fraternal affection.
She shrugged her shoulders and moved away from his warm hands.
“Go home,” she said, effectively ending the conversation.
Marcus, despite being the best friend and confidante she had, was loathe to fight her. Once upon a time he’d been her conscience. But ten years of companionship had built a distance between them. He became a loyal follower and she became a leader and their quarrels, friendly and invigorating as they were, ended.
Ten years ago Marcus would have stayed until he forced Xena to put away her dreams of invading Rome. But now he simply nodded and left in a billow of shining armor and bright fabric.
And was immediately replaced by a niggling feeling at the front of Xena’s brain. It’d been there all day like the beginning of a migraine. A reminder of the world around Xena and the bargains she’d made. But as the sun set and the palace prepared for a quiet evening the feeling grew more insistent, until it became a buzzing.
“Don’t you think it’s a little weird to quietly watch a woman while’s she’s alone,” she finally said.
There was a flash of light like lightening glinting off of steel and Xena’s own personal devil appeared leaning against the balustrade. Ares was a tall and imposing man who tended toward all black with little flourishes of silver and red. He always seemed to have a cocky smile on his face and his dark eyes always hinted at a frightening knowledge of the world beyond the mortal one. Just a glance told you he wasn’t a man, but a god, and in Xena’s quest for an empire she’d all but sold her soul to him.
“I was watching you and tall, dark and brooding chat. For a second there I thought I was going to have to give you two a moment. He was giving you a…tender look.”
“He’s married.”
“So’s everyone woman who tastes the sword of War.”
The pun was awful but the lascivious look on his face still sent a tingle through Xena. There was another flash and he straddle Xena’s seat.
“I missed you,” he said in as tender a tone as a god of war was capable of.
“I don’t know why. I’ve been right here.”
He shook his head, “You went to Apollonia and were hidden from me. It was only earlier today you became visible.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Aphrodite’s apparently taken an interest in you.”
That sent a pang through Xena. Memories of nights alone listening to Gabrielle’s stories flashed through her head. The pang of lust she’d felt at the sight of Gabrielle-at the sight of Ares-turned into something pure and bright and utterly abnormal.
“Uh oh. Is that the look of love I see,” his voice was teasing, but his eyes never lied. They were dark with malicious thought.
“Look of lust. I’m ten sheets to the wind and bored. Care to conquer Greece.”
“Thanks but no thanks. As much as I love planting my spear in Grecian soil it’s not the same when the soil’s pickled in wine. Instead let’s talk about Rome.”
“Marcus says no.”
“Marcus can be dealt with,” he took the wine from her hands and leaned in close. He smelled of blood and leather and sharp steel, “As can Rome.”
#
Gabrielle made it back through the palace gates just as they prepared the close. The guards at each gate eyed her crankily but let her pass. At the courtyard a young stableboy, different then the men she’d met earlier, came out to take her horse and sullenly watch her dismount. He didn’t offer a hand or a stool, just held her horse’s reigns and watched.
Inside the palace was a buzz with hundreds of new guests. She could hear the laughter and the clink of cups of wine. Servants fluttered in and out of rooms with plates of cheese and bowls of olives and freshly roasted lamb on spits. She caught glimpses into the rooms and saw governors meeting with other governors and Xena’s advisors plotting and laughing and preparing for the quickly arriving Congress.
She did not hear Xena joining the revelry in the rooms she passed.
Her own quarters were at the top of the palace overlooking the courtyard. If she leaned just so she could even see out into the southern harbor where ships from Persia and Egypt and Africa moored.
In the comfort of her quarters, far away from the plotting of her fellow governors, Gabrielle allowed herself a sigh. She changed from the blue dress she’d worn to watch her play rehearse and chose a pale pink gown of diaphanous silk to wear to bed.
The play was going well. Her actors were vibrant and the direction was sharp. The producers had asked her to reconsider a few lines. Apparently insinuating Rome was built on the backs of slaves and full of fat old men was bad form. She’s happily declined. As the governor of one of Xena’s most wealthy provinces Gabrielle now had power-political power. She’d experienced bits of political power before, but never had the kind recognized by the rest of the known world.
Down in Corinth people seemed to have known who she was despite never seeing a picture. They nodded and cleared the way. Even at the playhouse they’d referred to her as Governor instead of Playwright.
She’d come quite a distance from the tenacious teen of Potidea.
Gabrielle poured herself a glass of wine, it was a late vintage that clung to the walls of her cup. It was rich and tasted acutely of grapes and spice. It was the sort of wine that really needed to be cut by fresh spring water, but Gabrielle was tired and willing to have the cloying touch of sugar on her tongue. She took her glass, and the bottle, out onto the balcony and surveyed the scene before her.
Even in the dark if Gabrielle squinted she could see the edges of Greece beyond the isthmus Corinth was built on. Though the sea was near, thousands of people, beasts and buildings lay between her and the water. She couldn’t smell the sea from the palace, only the roasting meats the kitchen made.
Down in the courtyard a few children, from the stables it looked like, dashed across the murals laughing and battling each other with long sticks-javelins in their minds’ eye.
The quarters near Gabrielle’s own were all dark at the early hour. Their residents still down in the meeting halls below, plotting the Congress.
All but one room. High above the others and directly over the stairs into the palace the warm glow of a brazier caught her eye. Instinctively Gabrielle knew that was Xena’s apartments. She squinted-hoping to see the Empress-but there were only harsh shadows and the glow of the brazier.
#
Far above, still in her happy hovel of shadows, Xena saw Gabrielle appear on her balcony. Her breath caught in her throat as involuntary and difficult feelings welled up inside of her. If she rose from her chair, took a single step out into the light of the night Gabrielle would see her.
But what then? Would they share a look across the courtyard? A smile? Silently commune over the respective bottles on wine. Or would Gabrielle turn away? Return to her quarters to write some letter to her cow-eyed poet.
Indecision robbed Xena of action and Gabrielle soon went inside.
#
High above the palace, in a place no mortal could tread, Ares watched his chosen warrior drink herself into a stupor. Though she hid in the shadows his eyes were sharper than any human’s and he saw the look of longing. It was foreign and ugly on Xena. Something he’d thought she buried years before.
With a flash he was in the woman’s bedroom. She was fast asleep and sprawled across her bed. Her hair was straw-like and her body was short-squat. The body of a little slave or farm girl who’d never known the pleasures of the world.
Something about the woman rankled Ares and without a second thought a sword appeared in his hand. It’d be easy enough to kill the woman while she slept. She was one of Xena’s governors and no doubt had enemies of her own. They’d be blamed and Ares would have his Xena back. The wine swilling moper currently there in her stead would disappear.
He held the sword over his head. Prepared to thrust down.
Then there was a swirl of pink light like the petals of a rose, “Back off bro,” Aphrodite said as soon as she’d materialized.
“Kind of busy sis.”
“Yeah, trying to kill me peeps. Not cool.”
“She’s one of yours?”
“Duh. I’m not officially a muse or anything but who do you think copy edits her plays? Clearly the touch of the divine.”
Ares weighed his options in the blink of a mortal’s eye then brought his sword down. It was a sharp blade made by Aphrodite’s husband. A blade that would cut through steel and flesh alike. Before the edge could meet the little woman’s flesh Aphrodite hit him with something…pink.
“Oh come on sis!”
“No killing Gabby Ares. Now go start a war or something.”
A flash of pink and Aphrodite came between Ares and the sleeping woman. She had that resolved look on her face. The one she got when she had to beg their father for a favor and would accept nothing but a yes. She made a shooing motion, “I mean it,” she said, “get going.”
Ares looked over her shoulder at the sleeping woman. She really was just a mortal. They could be manipulated. Dealt with. And murdering her in her sleep wasn’t exactly Ares’s style. Already a plan was forming. One devious enough that Aphrodite and her little friend would never even see it.
“Yeah okay,” he said. His sword disappeared and in an instant he and Aphrodite were both gone.
#
That night Gabrielle dreamt of war and love and a blue-eyed women with a gaze that never wavered.