"What on earth is the matter, Xena? Are we going or not?" Gabrielle reined in her horse and turned to look at Xena, who had made yet another false start toward the village that lay below, shimmering in the heat haze that rose from the baking earth.

"I. . . guess so."

"You guess so? All right, that's it. What's going on?" Gabrielle rode back to her friend's side and looked at her intently. She had never seen Xena so indecisive and it worried her. She waited, and finally Xena said,

"I think he's down there."

"He? He who?"

There was another long silence, and Gabrielle hung onto her temper with difficulty. She was getting bitchier these days, she noticed. Maybe it was the missing time, maybe it was her feeling that their lives were somehow unreal here, maybe she missed Joxer, maybe any of hundreds of things. Whatever it was, it was making her crabby and impatient. She took a deep breath, and asked again, "Who?"

Xena mumbled something.

"What did you say?"

"Ares. I think Ares is down there." She turned to look at Gabrielle, a strange unhappy smile on her face. "Don't you remember that town we passed through two days ago? Their stories about the warrior who killed three men without blinking an eye? And how he finally told them who he was?"

"Of course I remember. But why do you think he's here? And what difference does it make, anyway? It's not like you've ever been afraid of him."

"Not afraid, no. I'm not sure I want to see him again. I mean, I get confused, sometimes, about him."

Gabrielle grinned and said mischievously: "I don't know why you're confused. It's plain as a pikestaff that you're in love with him!"

"What? Don't be ridiculous! I despise him and everything he stands for!"

"Uh-huh. I'll grant you you spend half your time trying to kill him--"

"Well, then."

"But you seem to spend the other half in his arms."

"I do not!"

"Oh, okay, a third of the time, then."

"Gabrielle--" Xena was beginning to get angry and Gabrielle stopped her half-serious teasing and urged her horse forward, toward the village. She glanced back to see Xena following, a bemused expression on her face. She was lost in thought.

In love with him? Never! It's just not possible, not after all he's done to us. But what about what he's done for us? He gave up everything for us. No, she corrected herself, he gave it up for me. For me. He's mortal and lonely, maybe even afraid, because of me. The least I can do is see if he's all right. It doesn't mean a thing.

She clucked at Argo and the beautiful mare swept past Gabrielle, down to whatever waited in the village.

The smell of sun-baked soil rose to her nostrils, carried by the clouds of dust kicked up by the horses. It was hot as she could ever remember, the sun beating down without mercy. Her battle leathers seemed scratchy and uncomfortable, something she had never noticed before, and sweat ran down her back. She pushed her damp hair off her forehead, and squinted down the trail, hoping that Argo would find a smooth path; it was too hot for her to concentrate and she felt herself drifting. She glanced back at Gabrielle and saw that she too was surrendering to the soporific heat. She shook her head and clucked to her horse, trying to regain her alertness. But somehow it didn't seem to matter.

The sun glared off a sluggish, weed-choked river, dried now to a trickle, which flowed to a brackish lake, also drying up. Closer now, the village didn't look as inviting as it had from the ridge: some of the buildings were run down and others were completely deserted. She was cheered a bit by the fact that the rest of the place was well tended and clean, but the village was dying.

They turned a corner, and Xena shut her eyes, dazzled again by the sunglare. The river? No, that was beyond the buildings. She blinked and looked again, and before her she saw weapons: shields hung on a fence, swords displayed next to them, even a few lances. What was going on?

Then she knew: Ares! He was up to his old tricks, starting wars, taunting people to get them to fight, scheming… the bastard! He wasn't going to get away with it this time.

When Xena walked out of the molten sunlight into the inn, it took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The room would be dark in any case, for the two small windows were heavily curtained to keep it cool. But despite the dimness, the place had a welcoming feel to it, and it was crowded. Even though people jostled one another, no one seemed upset or impatient, and Xena reflected that they seemed far friendlier than most people she met. Despite her dislike of the weaponry she'd seen outside, and the dilapidated buildings, it might be nice to stay in this place for a while, to stop wandering and fighting and just be.

She smelled roasting meat and the rich aroma of hops and her mouth watered. It was much cooler in the thick-walled building than it was outside and she began to revive. If the inn also had a room and a bathtub available it would come close to her idea of paradise. She made her way to the bar and asked for two tankards of ale, one for herself and one for Gabrielle, who was finding stabling for the horses. She was looking for a few dinars when she heard laughter behind her. She glanced around and found herself looking at a group of people gathered around a girl. They were laughing and apparently teasing her, for she was blushing, and if Xena were fair, she'd have to admit that the girl was absolutely stunning. She smiled at her friends, said something Xena couldn't hear, and reached up to kiss a tall, dark-haired man. Xena caught her breath, for he wasn't just a man.

No, he wasn't just a man, he was the man. The man Xena had come to find, to talk to, maybe even to love . . . For a moment, the noise of the room receded, her vision darkened and she stood, sick with unhappiness and a terrible sense of loss, watching as Ares returned the girl's kiss.

They moved away from the others and sat down at a small table, their heads close together, obviously enjoying one another's company. Xena began to notice details. The girl was a redhead and she had the brown eyes that almost never go with that hair color but are so devastating when they do. There was a hint of gold thread in her cloth, for it glinted slightly when she moved. But gods she was young, probably no more than 16; certainly not a match for a god. Xena swallowed a bitter pill: the girl was more attractive than she was; certainly she was more attractive to Ares. You know how sexy he is, you idiot, did you expect him to remain alone? Especially when you told him over and over again that you would never be with him?

Ares was dressed in simple peasant clothing: leggings, and a long-sleeved, high-necked tunic of some coarsely woven, brown material that looked like sacking. A shapeless vest completed the less-than-stylish ensemble. She stared, and then she did the unforgivable thing.

Afterwards she was never able to determine what drove her to it. Jealousy, anger, longing, uncertainty--maybe they all came into play.

She walked over and stood looking down at them, and as she did she overheard the girl say, "All right, Bellus, but you can't tell me that it didn't hurt!"

"Of course it hurt," he replied, "But I was very dignified about it. I didn't yell--until they were out of earshot. Then I screamed like stuck pig!" They both laughed again, then the girl glanced up at the woman who stood frowning at them. She smiled in friendly fashion.

"Hello," she began, "Will you join. . . " She trailed off, for Xena wasn't paying any attention to her, she was glaring at Ares. He glanced up, then away, then up again, and blinked. "Xena!" he exclaimed in surprise, getting to his feet. "What are you doing here?" His generous mouth curved in a delighted smile and he held out his arms to her.

"I might ask you the same thing--Bellus," she sneered. Then she looked at the girl and added nastily, "Isn't she a little young for you? Or is this a mid-millennium crisis?"

Ares' expression changed and his smile disappeared. The pleasure he'd felt in seeing Xena again, along with the never-extinguished hope that she might be there to find him, that she had come to be with him, vanished, leaving him feeling cold and desolate. Even his voice was icy: "What do you want?"

"Why, nothing. Just passing through, Bellus."

Suddenly he knew what she was about to do. In a voice filled with dismay he said, "Don't do it, Xena, please."

She looked at him, astonished. "'Please'? I didn't know the word was in your vocabulary." She looked at the girl and said silkily, "Of course it's not really my business, but you seem like a very young, very nice girl. I think it might be wise of you to choose your companions more carefully."

"Xena, stop this! This is not what you think."

"Orders? From you? NOW? I don't think so."

"Bellus, what's going on?"

"It's all right, Nydae. We're old - sparring partners. It's just a misunderstanding."

"And you're the one who misunderstands, Nydae," Xena said. "Why do you call him 'Bellus'?"

"That's his name." Her tone was both puzzled and hurt; she knew instinctively that the tall warrior woman was going to cause pain.

"Maybe here and now. But that's not the name he's known by elsewhere--"

"I told you to stop this, and I mean it!" Ares' tone was angry and he reached for her arm, but Xena stepped away quickly and put the heavy wooden table between them. Then she turned to the rest of the crowd, which had begun to grow quiet, realizing something was wrong.

"Don't you want to know who he is? What he's done? Don't you want to know what kind of monster you've taken to the heart of your community?"

An older woman stood and complete silence fell. She was as tall as Xena, with an abundance of silver hair sweeping her shoulders. She must have been in her 70's, but Xena saw with a shock of annoyance that she was still beautiful. At that moment, she didn't want anything around Ares to be beautiful. This woman was not only striking, she had an undeniable air of authority; she expected that her words would be obeyed. "If you have something to say about Bellus, young woman, then say it to his face and before us. Otherwise I believe we would all be much happier if you left."

"But that's just it; he's tricked you. His name's not Bellus; it's Ares. Ares, the God of War. That's who you're sheltering." She turned to Nydae and added: "That's who you're in love with. The God of War. Do you have any idea what he's done? The amount of blood on his hands, the cruelty and terror he's--"

She broke off, feeling foolish and aware that she was the outsider here. The people were staring at her as if she were demented. She could feel them siding with Ares, not with her. Why did I start this? What's wrong with me?

She heard Nydae's voice, but it was only later that she remembered the crucial words: "I'm not in love with him."

The older woman looked from Xena to Ares, then said to him, "Tell me the truth. Are you the God of War?' Her expression said plainly that she didn't believe a word of Xena's tale.

"No, Lyti, I am not." He paused, and the villagers relaxed and everyone breathed again. Lyti smiled, and turned to Xena: "Please leave."

"Wait." Ares' voice rang with command and they froze. "I said I am not the God of War. That's true--now. But I was. For thousands of years."

Xena snorted in triumph, but Lyti looked grave and Nydae seemed stricken. She, too, stood and said, "It's not true. Please--tell me it's not true. You're not--Ares. You can't be Ares. A god, here? It doesn't make any sense! Oh, please tell me you're not--"

"But I am." He raised his voice and spoke to the room in general. "I was Ares, the God of War. Now I'm mortal, just like you. I had hoped to stay here, learn how to live and then, learn how to die. But now that won't be possible. I want to thank you for taking me in, and I apologize for what's about to happen."

Even as he was speaking a stocky, dark-haired young man jumped up and rushed out of the inn. Nydae whispered, "Was that Davo?"

"Yes."

"Oh, no, oh, no," Nydae whimpered. She was crying softly and Ares took her in his arms.

"My, isn't that. . . sweet," Xena said. Ares felt unhappiness flood over him as watched the all-too-familiar sneer twist those lips he longed to kiss. She was so beautiful it made him ache and he hated to see what her bitterness was doing to her. But he couldn't let any of his care, concern, or love show. Instead he said contemptuously:

"Be quiet, you fool. Are you so completely unaware of anything but yourself and your hate that you don't know what you've just done?"

They stared at each other, then Ares' expression softened: "Xena, you don't understand. Nydae and I aren't--"

At that moment the door opened and Gabrielle came in. She sensed the tension, looked around, did a double take and yelped, "Ares!"

"Hello, Gabrielle." Whatever hope Nydae and the others had that perhaps this was some kind of joke was gone with those two words. They began to murmur among themselves.

"What's going on?" Gabrielle asked, unknowingly echoing Nydae.

Even then Xena might have relented if she'd stopped to think, but her nature was to act first. And so she went on with the disaster:

"I've exposed the snake in the garden," Xena said. "The little detail of his identity had apparently slipped his mind. I thought these good people deserved to know just who they were. . . entertaining." She managed to put a crude sexual connotation on the word and both Nydae and Ares bristled.

Ares conciliatory manner vanished and he glared at Xena. His voice was low but he was so angry that his words were audible throughout the room, and they cut like jagged glass: "Your never-ending hate and smug superiority are about to cost this village several of its best young men. The boy who just left is Davo. He's a friend of Nydae's fiancé, Sendar."

"Her what, fiancé, no--what?" she stammered.

"Yes. You made a mistake about us."

"And. . . the boy who left?"

"He's gone to get Sendar and the others. They are not just simple farmers. You've made another mistake."

Xena looked confused. Ares continued: "Why don't you think before you open your mouth? Now that they know who I am, they're going to come and challenge me. Sendar wants to make his reputation as a great warrior; it's all he talks about. What better way to accomplish that than to kill me?"

"But. . . the weapons. You're planning a war, inciting--"

"No." It was Lyti who answered. "No, the weapons were made by a traveling blacksmith. He comes through here once a month. Right now he's on his way to Ithilia, which is high in the mountains, a dangerous track. He left the weapons here to save himself some trouble. The Ithilians are peaceful, they have no need of his arms. We were simply examining them when you came."

Xena tried to speak, failed, and hung her head. Gabrielle put a protective arm around her but the warrior pushed it away.

Nydae raised her head and looked at Ares. "If you are the God of War, then he can't kill you. You could just, just let him go, couldn't you?"

"Nydae, if I were still a god, then yes, I could show mercy." He paused, then admitted: "I probably wouldn't because mercy is not in my nature, but at least I'd have the choice. It's ironic that because I'm no longer immortal, I have no choices left. They couldn't have touched me before, but now I'm as vulnerable as anyone else. As much as I might like to spare them, for your sake, I don't much fancy just standing around while they cut me to ribbons."

He gently moved Nydae away and turned to face the villagers, to explain it again. "Thanks to Xena, you all know who I was. In a few minutes Sendar, Davo and the others will be back to test me."

"Could you just walk away? For our sakes, and theirs?" Lyti spoke calmly, but Xena noticed her fists were clenched. Others in the room nodded and looked at Ares, hoping he would agree.

"I wish I could, Lyti, but they would only follow. I know Sendar--he's like thousands of others--he's overeager and young, but not really a bad fellow. But he won't give up and if I don't fight him he'll simply cut me down. I'm going to have to meet them." He sighed. "I wish I didn't have to do this."

A smell of scorched meat suddenly bellowed into the room; the cook was so transfixed by the drama he'd forgotten the roast. He went scurrying back to the kitchen with an oath, one of the few in the room who'd even noticed the small domestic mishap. But the smell carried to Xena as well, making her queasy. The room suddenly seemed too small and too warm; she was once again wet with perspiration.

Nydae grabbed Ares' shirt: "Can you somehow--I don't know--not fight or make him think he's winning or let him win or--

He shook his head. "No. If he comes alone, then I can try to trick him. But they are going to come together, all of them."

Gabrielle had been listening to the tale unfold, and suddenly saw the truth. "Ares, how many times has this happened?"

"I've lost count, Gabrielle. Unfortunately it's become something of a common occurrence."

"Young warriors attacking you, you mean?"

He nodded.

"They try and fail?" she wondered.

"They try and die." He turned again to Lyti and said, "I don't know if I can make you understand, but I have to try." He raised his voice and spoke to the villagers in general. "Please, please try to understand this. When I start to fight, the rage and hate and bloodlust take over and I act instinctively. It's what I am; it's what I was born for. I won't be able to spare any of them, even if I wanted to. And by the time it's over, I won't want to. War and battle are more than what I do, they are what I am. In those moments, I find a kind of dreadful joy in the killing. I wish I could say otherwise, or tell you that this time will be different. It won't."

"But you know the boys, you've even trained Sendar--"

"My dearest Lyti, it won't matter. That's what I'm trying to tell you. It won't matter that I've trained them, or that I like them--and I do like them. That makes it that much worse."

He looked at Xena, his anger gone. He knew what she must be feeling and ached for her, ached to hold her. But to do so would make things even worse. There was a moment of miserable silence.

Everyone jumped as the door crashed open and Sendar hurtled into the room: "Ares! You are Ares? Davo wasn't telling me a story?" Sendar was panting from his run, his face flushed with excitement. Xena saw a good-looking young man, nearly as tall as Ares, with a shock of blonde hair and luminous green eyes. He couldn't have been more than 19 years of age, and projected the terrifying illusion of invulnerability common to young people.

"No, he wasn't. I'm Ares, but no longer the God of War."

"It doesn't matter. You were one of the most powerful of the Olympians. HAH!! You're mine."

Ares shook his shaggy head. "I've had millennia of practice and unless you've suddenly developed a great deal more skill than you had the last time we fought, you can't defeat me. Someone will, some day, but not you and not today." He sighed. "Sendar, please, you're not ready for this. You will be a great warrior some day, but there are so many things you still don't know. If you fight me today, I'll kill you. I told three men this same thing a few weeks ago in a village not far from here. Cinctus, Botal and Malthus--did you know them?"

Sendar started in surprise and the townsfolk whispered to each other. "That was you?"

"Yes."

The young man looked uncertain, then drew himself up and said, "It doesn't matter. They were fools. I'm not a fool and neither are my friends."

Ares said quietly, "I thought we were friends."

Sendar seemed taken aback for a moment, but then said, "I have to do this. Bellus, er, Ares, you understand don't you, why I have to do this?"

"Yes, I know exactly how you feel, but I beg you, stop now."

"I can't. Neither can they."

At that, four others came forward. Xena recognized Davo but the others were nameless. But they were young and they were strong and they had all their lives ahead of them. Or would have, if she had kept quiet, for she realized she didn't think Ares could be beaten, even though he was mortal. Sendar was advancing steadily toward Ares, his green eyes glittering. Suddenly he drew his sword and slashed at the god.

Ares dodged, grabbed Sendar's wrist as the youth lunged past him, twisted the sword from his grasp, and kicked the boy's feet from under him. Sendar crashed into a table, sending dishes of aromatic food flying, then sprawled at full length on the floor. Ares said:

"I'll leave if you'll let me. Don't make me kill you."

Sendar pulled himself up and yelled at Ares: "If you walk away from me now I'll know you're a coward! COWARD!!"

"Sendar!" rapped Lyti, "I am Elder of this village. I like Bellus. I am disposed to like Ares as well. We have made him welcome and he has repaid us with his generosity and ability. You dishonor us with your challenge."

Generosity? Ability? Xena realized in that moment how well liked Ares was. In the short time he'd been with them, the villagers had come to know and depend on him, and she had ruined it through her jealousy. Gods, I've made a horrible mistake…

"If you force him to fight I do not believe you will win. The village cannot afford to lose its young men. I tell you to stop this now."

Sendar looked thoughtful, then said quietly, "I'm sorry, Grandmother, but I must disobey you. I want this victory. I must have it!" He grew more agitated and his voice rose again: "I will be known throughout the land as the warrior who slew the mighty God of War. I will be able to defend this village, and it will start to grow again. People will come to live here and we will regain our prosperity. Don't you understand? If I kill him, we can regain our future!" He turned to Ares and yelled, "Give me my sword, coward, and meet me outside!"

Ares handed him the sword, hilts first, and Sendar grabbed it and shouldered his way through the throng. Ares shrugged, shook his head, and followed, as did everyone else. Xena and Gabrielle trailed the rest, slowly, in silence.

Outside, Sendar, Davo and the others waited in a semicircle, the noonday sun fierce on their bright blades. Once again the odor of dry grass and arid dirt came to Xena, along with an undertone of decay from the weeds that choked the dying stream. The light was so bright everything seemed bleached and blighted; it was fitting.

"Five to one is hardly a fair fight, boy," Lyti said. She stepped between the boys and Ares, and spoke to each in turn. "Sendar, think of Nydae who loves you. You are to be married in less than a month. You will make her a widow before she's a wife." Sendar clenched his jaw and said nothing.

She turned to Davo: "You and your father together have made a home for your younger siblings since your mother died. What will he do without you?" The dark-haired boy seemed distant, and she knew she hadn't reached him. But she had to keep trying and moved on, naming each of the boys in turn, pleading with each to save himself.

"Vikan, you have a wonderful family. Your parents and sisters will be heartbroken without you. And you, Telnus, you were going to be a teacher, you know how much we need one." He looked at Lyti, then said simply, "Sendar is my friend."

Lyti touched his cheek, and then asked, "Ephis, will you refuse to fight? For your sake and ours?"

"I would like to, Elder, but it would be dishonorable to refuse now." Ephis was the smallest of the quintet, a thin, delicate redhead with the calloused fingertips that betrayed him as a musician.

Ares turned to the five. In the few minutes that Lyti had been speaking, he had changed; the coming battle had awakened the rage of centuries, the fury that made him such a fearsome deity. There was something different about him now, a heightened awareness, an eagerness that was disquieting. The boys suddenly realized a terrible truth: Ares was a killer. His willingness to destroy life, to cross the line that most people avoided, to tear down whatever stood in his way, gave him a tremendous advantage. Bellus was gone, the Ares who had begged them to leave him alone was gone: they were facing the God of War. He said, "You boys are so foolish. Don't you know what you are? You're mine! It's boys like you, young, eager, unthinking, unquestioning, who make up my armies. You are the ones who have died, and will die, for my glory. Don't you understand that? You've already lost, and you don't even know it, because they won't remember you, they'll remember me!"

With that he turned and walked to a small shop. When he came back he was holding a beautiful scabbard, one that Xena and Gabrielle knew well. He had controlled the berserker frenzy, but it was there, powerful, seductive, and he wanted to yield to it. But he didn't; instead, he placed the scabbard point down on the ground, and leaning on the hilts, rasped out a final attempt to save their lives: "Let it go. I will leave the village now--"

"Please, Sendar, please do as he asks!" Nydae begged. "You are a great warrior to me, and always will be. What more must you prove?"

"He knows." Sendar suddenly leapt toward Ares but the latter didn't move into guard. Sendar stopped, but Ares was looking at Lyti. The young man grew infuriated: "Look at ME, damn you! I'm right in front of you!" He raised his sword and slashed it across Ares' forearm. The coarse cloth was suddenly soaked with blood and still Ares didn't move. Then Lyti spoke, her voice resigned and sorrowful: "Fight them, Ares. Do what you must do."

In one fluid motion, almost too quick to follow, Ares stripped off his bulky shirt and vest, threw them aside, and drew his sword. A stir ran through the crowd as they saw him. He was devastatingly handsome, tall and well muscled, the pectorals massive and hard, the abdominals clearly defined; dark hair covered the top of his chest lightly, growing heavier further down on his abdomen and belly. His arms were powerful and beautiful, and his skin was a golden bronze. He was utterly magnificent, and if there was anyone in the village who still doubted that he had been a god, that doubt was gone.

The sword glinted wickedly in the sun as he swung it in a one-handed flipover that Xena had seen countless times. The heavily corded muscles in his arm flexed with the effort and she caught her breath, for it was as if she were seeing him for the first time. He was gorgeous; the sensuality and power that he had kept hidden seemed to radiate from him to touch her where she stood. She rocked back and beside her she heard Gabrielle gasp.

The sun hammered down, giving the wheat in the fields the burnish of brass; the breeze dropped; it was like standing in a furnace. It seemed that the world held its breath.

And then Ares was moving toward the five waiting youngsters. Every step was deliberate and powerful, like that of a stalking panther. He held the immense sword, too heavy for most men, as if it were a feather, there was a glint in his eyes and Xena saw with a kind of horror that he was smiling.

Sendar swallowed and glanced from Ares to his companions. Satisfied with what he saw, he suddenly yelled and charged to meet the oncoming god. He swung wildly, trying to behead Ares, but the latter dived under the blade, tucked, rolled, and came up on his feet in front of Davo. He swung the broadsword overhand and split Davo's skull, then whirled to face Vikan.

He swung the blade in a deadly arc, slamming it into Vikan's side and nearly chopping him in half. Ares' sword stuck in the boy's ribs, but he put his foot on Vikan's chest and yanked it free, just as Sendar struck from behind. Ares heard him and dived away from Sendar, coming up face to face with Telnus. In his terror the boy had wet himself and could only stare at the War God.

Ares struck in a flash and ran Telnus through the heart; he died where he stood. Ephis broke and ran, but Ares leapt after him. When the young man turned, Ares swung the lethal blade in a wicked uppercut that clove the boy from groin to breast. Blood spurted from the gaping wound as the failing heart pumped the vessels dry; Ares was spattered with it. He spun to face Sendar, his eyes sparkling with lust, his sword dripping, his movements those of a supremely confident predator. At that moment, the villagers saw what he must have been like as God of War, and they were terror-stricken. But even as a mortal he was overwhelming and they feared him, though they had not feared Bellus. Xena and Gabrielle were wary of him as well; they had never seen him fight like this and it was horrifying, a glimpse into a mystery better left unexplored.

But Sendar, with the courage of desperation, stood and faced his enemy. He understood now the futility of wild attacks and instead wove a defense of steel, protecting himself with artful sword strokes that would be impossible to penetrate. Or so he thought.

But Ares was unstoppable, and they closed with a screeching clash of metal that unsettled the watching crowd. Sendar fought with an expertise that was surprising, but the end was known from the beginning, and Xena suddenly realized that Ares was toying with the young man, drawing out the contest for his own enjoyment. She yelled, "End it, Ares, this is unspeakable!"

At that, the god's face tightened in displeasure, and Xena saw that he was not about to do anything she asked; nor was he willing to give up his amusement. But then Lyti cried, "Please, Ares, finish it!"

He struck then, getting through Sendar's guard in a lightning-fast stroke that took the young man in the belly and dropped him like a sack of meal. His sword clattered away and he clutched his wound, screaming in agony. Ares watched him dispassionately for a moment, then slashed his throat. Sendar quivered and lay still even as Nydae screamed and pushed through the crowd to gather him in her arms.

The whole thing had taken little more than a minute.

Ares was panting, sweaty, covered with blood, and as Xena looked at him she shuddered with an unholy delight. She had an insane impulse to kiss him, to lick the blood and sweat from his chest. He was everything she most despised, and everything she most desired; he was war, and it still excited her. In that wild moment she would have given herself to him, there on the bloody ground, before the whole village, if he'd wanted her. If he'd wanted her…

But Ares wasn't even aware of her; he was staring in a kind of sick horror at the carnage before him. He dropped to his knees with an anguished groan; Xena heard him whisper: "Gods, not again. Not again. . ."

She was beside him, holding him, before she could think. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I . . ." she trailed off and simply rocked him, as she had rocked Eve years ago. "I didn't know, what can I say?"

"Let me go, Xena." She dropped her arms and he stood, looking once more at the boys who lay sprawled in the heat and the dust, then at the villagers, lastly at the woman who still knelt at his feet.

He continued to gaze down at her, a strange expression on his face, and she saw, for the first time, not admiration, or love, or even lust, but cold determination. He was going to kill her. He raised the reeking sword and she reached for her own, only to drop her hand. Maybe I deserve it, she thought, for bringing this calamity on the villagers. And him.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, then Ares slowly lowered the blade. He looked at her for another long moment, then said, "I never wanted to hurt you or them, why couldn't you see that? Gods, I'd give anything if you could trust me, believe in me," he paused, then added softly, "and love me. I can't keep going through this."

Xena dropped her head, unable to reply; but Gabrielle walked over and hugged him fiercely, to their mutual surprise, then let go and went to get their horses.

He turned to the villagers and saw their pity, their understanding--and their terror of him. They would never again be easy with him or accept him. Even now they were gathering around their dead, and though they didn't blame him, their sorrow was a further barrier, one he could never breach. Wordlessly, Davo's father handed him his scabbard; Lyti came to him with his clothing as well as the bag that held his meager possessions. He wiped the sword and sheathed it, kissed Lyti's hand, and walked out of the village without a backward glance.

"I know how terrible you're feeling, Xena, but I have no sympathy to spare for you, nor does anyone here," Lyti said, her voice blurred with tears. "I'm asking you to leave and let me bury my grandson." She turned away to begin her agonizing task, then turned back: "I'm an old woman now, and I know something of life and of the motives of the human heart. If I were you, I'd sort out my feelings for Ares before I caused more harm."

"I have no feelings for Ares!"

"You liar! Liar!" screamed Nydae, tears on her face and her hands gory with Sendar's blood. "If you hadn't been wild with jealousy over something that never existed in the first place, this wouldn't have happened. You're so much in love with him it's eating you alive. NO!" she shrieked as Xena moved toward her, "Don't touch me, get away from me, get out! GET OUT!!"

Xena looked at the ring of unfriendly faces surrounding them. "You're right," she admitted finally. "I've been fighting a war with him for years. I just don't know what my feelings are any more."

Lyti said, "I don't think that's really true, is it? I think perhaps it's fairer to say you are terrified to admit that you love him. Are you so sure he'd take you back to the darkness?"

Xena looked at her, astonished. "How did you know?"

"Because I was in love once myself, with someone very much like Ares. He was a warlord, handsome and reckless and sensual, and my own need for him terrified me as much or more than he did. Like Ares, he was a killer, and I found myself attracted as much to his violence as to anything else, and I was afraid to examine what that might say about me. So I told myself I didn't love him, or if I did, he was bad for me. And I left him." She fell silent and Xena saw that her eyes were full of tears, but this time for her lost love. "I have regretted that decision every day of my life. Don't make the same mistake."

She reached out and hugged the younger woman, and Xena was overwhelmed by her kindness, her generosity and her wisdom. "I wish I could do something to make it--"

"There's nothing you can do." Gabrielle came up, leading Argo, and Lyti turned to her. "Your friend is obviously a very special person, but she must deal with her own need for Ares and find out where that might take her. Help her."

Gabrielle nodded. "I will."

They mounted and rode away slowly, avoiding the sorrowful glances of the villagers. Xena was hunched in the saddle, her shoulders sagging as if from a great weight, hiding from the knowledge of her own actions. She heard Ares' words once again: Gods, I'd give anything if you could love me.

But he had already given everything; she had no right to ask for more. Maybe it was her turn to give. She straightened up and urged Argo forward, following the dusty road Ares had taken, hoping to catch up. And what then? She couldn't say.

The End