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It had merely been less than half an hour as a great ridge came into view. The uplifted earth was not only wide, but long as well. A deep valley sat at the center of it, for it circumferenced the entire area. It was plain to see why Xena had chosen this particular spot to set up war party tents back in her warlord days. The impressive ridge served as an excellent cover. It was steep enough that, from the flat plains, the valley below was virtually invisible.

Nearing the rather arduous terrain, Xena brought her mare to a halt. "Alright, we're going to have to get off the horses and lead them down the trail. It's too steep to ride down."

All three dismounted into the tall weeds below. Now walking, they began to cautiously make their way down the incline. The trail, was in fact, no trail at all. At least, no longer. Days long ago, there had been a fairly wide dirt path that spanned from the top crest of the ridge into the valley, but since then, the weeds and grass had consumed it, leaving nothing to gauge the area with other than cautiously made steps. Ares' eyes remained focused on the tops of the weeds as they brushed against his waist and across the palms of his hands.

The horses were vigilant as they felt the earth continuously descend with each step. The mare stopped and snorted. "Easy girl. C'mon. Nothing to be scared of." Xena gently tapped the horse on her shoulder to get her to continue. The animal did not oblige. Ares stopped and waited for the procession to proceed. Again, the warrioress tapped on her shoulder in an attempt to get her moving and still she refused, pulling back on the reins.

Gabrielle looked over, stopping her own horse. "She scared?"

Xena clicked her tongue against her teeth and bobbed her head. "Yeah." She patted the mare's flank. "Listen, you should keep moving. I don't want your horse to get wary as well. Keep him moving. I'll get her down. Don't worry."

"Alright. Soo, just wait for you at the bottom then?" Gabrielle ran a hand over her gelding's neck as he set his muzzle down into the weeds, pulling a mouthful of them up from the ground.

"Yes, but be careful on your way down." The mare squealed again and jerked her head. This motion caused the slack of the reins to tighten, pulling Xena's arm up. "WHOA! Easy!" She grit her teeth and called over her shoulder, "Gabrielle, you better start going."

"Alright, see you at the bottom." Gabrielle looked back at her horse and quietly asked him to go, which he did, but not before ripping another mouthful of tall grass from the ground. Their forms eventually disappeared over the next slope.

Xena looked over at Ares, who was standing close to the mare. The animal continued to fidget and pull back on the reins, jerking Xena's arms this way and that. "Watch out!"

He side-stepped out of the way as the horse swerved. Placing a hand on the mare's shoulder he tried to calm her down. "Easy. Eaaaaaasy." He squinted as a slight tinge of pain shot up his sides. "Remember, she's not Argo. Just be patient with her."

Again, the young mare began to prance, whipping her tail around in frustration. She began pawing at the ground with a foreleg, snorting all the while. Xena kept a firm hand on the reins and glanced over at Ares. "Well, what do you suggest?"

The question was more rhetorical than anything else, so it came as a surprise when he walked up to her and replied, "Hand me the reins."

"Are you nuts?! She's jerking me all over the place! What do you think that's going to do to your injuries?!"

He extended a hand and lowered his chin. "Trust me. Just hand me the reins. We'll get her down."

Xena's stumbled as the mare tossed her head again. The warrior grunted and breathed out forcefully. "No, it's too dangerous."

Ares put one hand over her wrist and looked her straight in the eye as he placed the other upon the reins. "Trust me. Please."

She pushed out her jaw and bit her lip. "Alright...but don't say I didn't warn you."

She let her muscles loosen, fingers unclench, and dropped the reins into his hand. Xena took a few steps back, crossed her arms and tilted her head, waiting to see just what Ares was intending to do.

He kept a loose grip on the reins and ran a hand down the mare's neck. "Easy girl. It's alright. No rush. Just take a look around."

He continued to pet the horse. Her nostrils, which had been completely flared, were starting to slowly retract. She looked out into the night, taking in her surroundings. Her tail sporadically swished and her back legs kicked off pesky flies, but other than that, she stood still.

Xena's brows raised whilst watching the display. It was truly a sight to see. The calming affect he had on the horse was unexpected. He was the personification of war itself and here he now was, tempering a timid animal.

"What's her name, Xena?" Ares looked questioningly up at her as he ran a hand along the bridge of the horse's nose.

The warrioress' mouth twisted to the side and she looked down as she raised a hand to her black locks and scratched her head. "Well, to tell you the truth, with all of Olympus after me, I didn't really get a chance to pick out a name."

Hearing Olympus mentioned, he looked away. With a matter-of-factly tone he simply replied, "You should pick one out soon, then."

"Oh, I-" Way to go Xena...open mouth, insert boot. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"No, it's alright. Just forget about it." Ares' ears picked up the sound of grass being uprooted. Both he and Xena looked back toward the horse who, by now, felt comfortable enough to graze on the long stems.

"Well, would you look at that."

"Yeah, I told you. All she needed was time. She's never had to do something like this before. She just needed us to be patient while getting a hold of the situation. She needed time to realize that there was really nothing to be scared of in the first place."

"I suppose I wasn't helping by trying to make her."

Ares continued to rub the mare's face. "While we might have known that there was no reason for her to get scared, it didn't erase the fact that she felt that way. She just wanted to look before she leapt...so to speak."

She walked over to him, placing an hand on the mare's shoulder, and smiled. "I never pegged you as someone who knew so much about horses."

He looked back at her and cocked his head to the side. "I don't." He turned around again and started to walk down the hill, the mare following behind.

Xena's mouth hung open, her brows furrowed and lips pursed as she, too, proceeded.

The distance to the bottom was not much further. They made their way down the rest of the ridge in silence.

Gabrielle and her gelding were already there as expected. The bard's horse was happily indulging his hunger on the lush grass that blanketed the valley's floor, swishing his tail lazily back and forth. Gabrielle was a bit shocked when she turned around.

"Umm...she alright now, Xena?"

She smiled and exchanged a brief look with Ares as he handed over the reins. "Yeah..she's fine."

"Alllllright..." Gabrielle was addled, but thought it best not to question how they managed to bring the horse down. Instead, she scanned the barren field and posed a different, more pertinent question. "So, where's this shelter?"

Xena smirked. "Follow me."

The group walked to the eastern end of the valley. At a lone tree, the -only- tree, the warrior stopped and turned around. She saw the confused look on Gabrielle's face and snickered.

"There's more here than meets the eye..but first--lets unsaddle the horses. They won't run off- not with the steep bordering ridge, and this is good grass for them to graze on." Xena turned to Ares. "You want to hold on to my horse while I unsaddle her?"

"Sure."

"Good. Here ya go." She tossed the reins over to him as she made her way the girth of the saddle and unclasped the buckles. She shot him a coy look while she pulled the item off the horse and placed it on the ground next to a rather peculiar mass of tangled brush.

"Alright, you can take her bridle off."

Ares cocked a brow. "I can't say I've ever done that before."

"Just unbuckle the clasps at her throat and under her jaw. Then, slide the headstall over her ears." Xena stepped forward, crossed her arms and watched on. Her face was stoic, but inside she watched on amused.

"Alright. So, I unbuckle those leather straps and then pull it off..." Ares unbuckled the throat latch and the noseband that wrapped round her jaw. When he raised his arms to slide off the headstall, however, he stopped mid-stretch and grimaced.

Xena's eyes flickered back and forth as she realized that she'd asked a bit too much of him in his present condition. He'd already strained the wounds during the fight. She shook her head and walked up to the mare's head and pulled down the bridle. Upon being released, the horse walked off to go graze.

Xena looked Ares over and lowered her eyes. "I wasn't thinking. You're in no shape to be reaching and lifting like that."

He pressed his lips together and breathed out. Although he wouldn't say it, he was embarrassed. He had been the successor to Olympus and now, here he was, unable to remove a bridle from a horse. The only reason he had the ability to withstand the fight earlier was the adrenaline factor, something he'd never experienced before. The exacerbation from the fight had left a lot of his injuries numbed, but now, the throbbing pain was starting to resurface and it felt almost twice as painful as before.

He sighed to himself. At least he didn't necessarily feel -weak- anymore. That had been induced from dehydration, something that the ever constant water consumption had remedied. He closed his eyes, ran a hand over the side of his face, and slightly shrugged. Ares turned and walked to the tree and leaned against it, letting out a deep sigh.

Xena remained standing in place, the bridle still in her hands, but her gaze had followed him. She parted her mouth as though there was something she wanted to say, something that would, perhaps, acknowledge that she understood, but nothing came out.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle had released her horse and now moved to join her friend. She dumped her gear on the ground and looked up. The expression on Xena's face prompted her to raise questioning brows.

She turned to see what her friend was staring at, and realizing it was Ares, she turned back and asked, "Everything ok?"

Her blue eyes were downcast and she shrugged her shoulders while shaking her head. "I don't know.." She shook the feeling and lifted her gaze. "Listen, we should head into the shelter now. I need to tend to those lacerations on his back."

"Well, getting into the shelter is a good idea...but...um..where exactly is it?"

Xena looked down and smirked. "You're standing on it, Gabrielle."

The bard's face scrunched up as she looked down at where she stood. She stomped her foot on the surface and her eyes snapped up in surprise as a metallic sound echoed from below. "Underground?!"

"That's right."

Xena smiled and directed her friend off of the spot. She squatted down and began to pull up all the overgrown brush that concealed the entrance. A metal hatch became visible. She wiped away a thin layer of dirt and looked up. "Alright, help me open it."

Both women grabbed ahold of a rather large latch and pulled with all of their might. Gabrielle's teeth bared down and she looked bemusedly at Xena. "A little much, don't you think?"

"Naww, I like top notch security. Besides, it's not the weight of the door. It just feels like it's heavy because it hasn't been opened in over thirty or so years."

The bard rolled her eyes at this quip and continued to pull. This caused Xena to chuckle between her gritted teeth.

From the tree, Ares looked on, feeling helpless. He hated this tormenting feeling. Never had he experienced the need to rely on someone else's help in this way. He had once been so powerful and now he watched on as Xena pulled against the embedded entrance to the shelter, and this was all he could do. He turned his head away. Tearing a piece of bark from the tree, he began to pick at it to ease his frustration.

"Here it comes! I feel it loosening," Xena stated.

With one more spurt of tugging, the hatch popped open. Gabrielle held on for too long, so, as the entrance gave way, she flew backward, landing on her bum.

Xena lowered a hand and helped her up. "Nice going."

The bard couldn't help but laugh at herself. She giggled and made a face. "Yeah, well it's nice to know that after all the changes over the past years, I still retained my clumsiness." She shook out another laugh and grabbed her satchel from the ground.

Picking up her own gear, Xena looked at Ares. "You coming? Those wounds need tending to."

He dropped the piece of bark and bobbed his head. "Yeah." He walked over to where the two woman stood and looked down into the newly revealed hole. The moon's light did not offer enough illumination of the recesses. He cocked a brow. "Are those steps?"

Xena nodded. "Yes, it scales straight down. There's -if I remember right- ten steps. Let me go down first. There should be some lanterns and then you'll be able to see."

She opened her satchel, pulled out two flint rocks and flashed an all-knowing smile before descending down the stairwell. Engulfed in complete darkness, she felt along the left wall as she reached the bottom. The smell of mold and dust filled her nose. Her hands felt their way across a wooden shelf. The dust was thick and she could feel the substance coat her fingers as she dragged them along, but, once she found the base of a lantern, she smiled to herself. Having removed the glass, Xena took one of the flint rocks that had been clutched in her right hand and slammed it against the other over the oil saturated wick. It immediately ignited, providing a playful flame. She placed the glass over it and went back to the base of the stairs.

"Alright. Can you see now?"

Ares peered down. "Yeah." He slowly squatted at the entrance, placing one foot upon the first step and eased his way into the hole. As he reached the bottom Xena extended a hand to him, but he refused to take it. "Thanks, but I got it."

She pursed her lips. "Alright.." Once he was clear of the stairs Xena shouted back up, "Ok, Gabrielle. Shut the hatch on your way down, but be careful!"

"No problem." The bard lowered herself in. One hand on the inner latch of the hatch, the other upon the rail of the stairs, she made her way down and closed it behind her. At the bottom of the well, Gabrielle brushed the dirt off her hands and looked at Xena. "Now what?"

The warrior handed her the lantern. "Hold on to that while I light two more."

Her friend did as asked and held the object up as she looked around her new surroundings. Wooden shelves lined both sides of the wall. Upon them, were a few unlit lanterns, two of which Xena had pulled forward. There were also jars of what looked to be medicinal creams, oils, and bags of herbs, some of which, the warrioress popped into her satchel. Lined on the floor were large barrels. Gabrielle lifted the lid of one and peered inside.

"Lovely, thirty year old water."

Xena chuckled. "Yeah, we'll have to boil it before drinking." She turned around, a lit lantern in each hand. Her eyes wandered over to where Ares was. With a down-turned face he stood over a large crate filled with swords. Running his hand over the steel, he seemed deep in thought. She lowered a brow and walked toward him, holding one of the lanterns out. "Here."

Her voice snapped him out of it and he gazed at her melancholy. He took the lantern and moved his stare to the dancing flame. "Thanks."

"You alright?"

Pressing his lips together he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, then, follow me." Xena walked past him into the dark corridor.

The tunnel was littered with thick cob webs. She extended her hand, swiping them from her way. The remnants clung to her fingers.

Gabrielle's eyes were open wide. When Xena had first mentioned a shelter, she had no idea it would be so spacious. She raised her brows. "This place...It's not what I expected."

Xena kept her eyes forward and continued to walk. "I'll tell you about it once we get settled in." She came to a halt where the hall came to an end and split off. There was one path that let to the left and one to the right. "Down to the right is where the food storage was and the other way is where we can set up our things. There's some cots back there, as well as reserve armor."

Gabrielle shook her head, amazed. "This is mighty impressive."

"You don't know the half of it." Xena turned and led them down the left tunnel. It opened up into a large room. The warrior set her lantern down on a nearby table, removed the glass and grabbed a torch from the wall which she lit and put back in its place. Now, the surroundings were no longer simply dimly lit.

"Alright. Here we are."

Ares looked the room over and set his lantern down. "You had big plans for Sparta, didn't you?" He took a seat on a nearby cot and leaned back against the wall it was adjacent to.

"That's an understatement." She put her gear down and took a seat in a chair that was next to the cot.

Gabrielle walked around the perimeter of the room, gazing at the reserve armor, old banners with Xena's crest embroidered upon them, items such as clean cloths, scabbards, and other weaponry. She looked on in awe and, without turning around, inquired about the extravagance of it all.

"What was this all for, Xena?"

"My ego." She faintly smirked. "Actually, the shelter was used only for supplies, cooking, and as quarters for myself and the highest ranking officers. The rest of my men camped out as normal."

The bard shot a sideways glance at her and lowered a brow. "What do you mean?"

Xena ran a hand through her dark hair, her eyes roaming the room. She breathed in and shrugged. "I had this place built while Sparta was at war in Troy. I figured it was the perfect opportunity for my men to construct such a thing without the threat of an attack by the Spartan army. I had big plans." She fiddled a moment with her chakram before continuing, "We came in under the concealment of night, worked for months undetected using the digging equipment I had used in searching for the Ixion Stone. The people of Sparta never knew about us. They were too fearful of the unknown with their army away and remained locked up within the city walls."

Gabrielle's brows furrowed and she took a seat at the table which stood in the center of the room. "I don't understand. If the army was away, why didn't you just attack then? It would have been an easy victory."

"With little profit." Xena shook her head as she continued, "You see, Menelaus had drained Sparta's resources to facilitate his war. Word had gotten round that, finally, after years of battle, the army would claim victory over Troy within a matter of months. I waited because I knew that his regiments would no longer be as imposing. They would be worn thin and weak from the war. Menelaus would bring back the spoils from Troy and that way---my profit from sacking Sparta would be doubled."

"It's still really hard for me to see you as that ruthless conqueror, Xena." Gabrielle closed her eyes and lowered her head. "So, you did all of this and never used it."

"That's right. The war had gone on longer than expected...years longer... and, as you know, by the time the final sword was dropped I-"

Ares, who had been listening intently the entire time with a despondent look on his face, cut her off, "You had met Hercules and left that life behind."

Her blue eyes washed over him. Her mouth was still parted from when he had concluded her sentence. It was a brief moment, but there was an unspoken conveyance of understanding that volleyed between the two. The connection was cut short when Ares finally tore his eyes away. She remained silent a moment longer, eyes still focused on him, before she regained her composure.

"Yes, by that time my life had changed."

Gabrielle's stomach rumbled suddenly. "We need food. You mentioned something about a place to cook down here?"

"Yeah, there's a hearth in the food preparation area. Pots, pans."

The bard looked at her incredulously. "Whoa...there's a hearth down here? What about the smoke?"

Xena smiled. "That's why there's two halls and why the right one is so long. We didn't want to send off any smoke signals. The hearth was built underneath the other side of the ridge. The ground above it is blanketed with thickly leaved trees. We built a piping system so that the smoke travels up through the ground and out over there. That way, it would be unlikely to see and, if it was, it didn't give away our location."

Gabrielle let out a large breath. "Wow, you thought of it all. Now, what about putting it to good use?"

Xena looked to Ares. "I need to take care of his injuries first. There's a lot of rabbits that make their burrows around here. I'll hunt afterward."

Again, the bard's belly protested. "Actually, Xena, I can't wait. I'll go do it, but I refuse to skin them."

The warrior chuckled. "Alright, sounds fair. You kill them. I'll skin them."

Gabrielle grabbed her satchel, swung it over her shoulder and picked up her lantern. "Ok, I'll be back as soon as possible." She smiled, made her way out of the room and back out into the corridor.

Xena opened her own satchel and pulled out the jars of medicine, oil, and herbs. She walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down a bowl which had a small mallet in it. Ares watched as she scooped out some white cream into the bowl and dumped a handful of herbs on top. With the mallet, she began to grind the two substances together. The cream changed into a rose color as the dried scented leaves were ground.

"One of your infamous poultices?"

She looked over at him and grinned. "Mmhmm. This should clean out the wound and prevent scarring."

He frowned. Ares hadn't considered that the wounds that littered his back could leave their mark. The ones on his arms were not deep and there was no threat of scarring there, this he knew. He didn't even know what the lacerations on his back looked like, though. He just knew that they were there.

Xena lifted the mallet and watched for consistency as the liquid dripped from it. "Alright, take off your shirt."

He sighed and did as asked. Removing the shirt, he grimaced as his ribs expanded upward. She walked over to the cot with the bowl and placed it beside her lap. Xena took hold of the ties of the bandages around his torso, untied them and unwrapped them. Again, her brows lowered compassionately as the wounds were revealed.

"Ok, I need you to lie on your stomach."

Ares rolled onto his belly, resting his chin on a folded sheet. Xena's eyes raked over his back. The lash marks were old, but still bloody from being irritated from the fabric having bonded to them. When Ares had taken his shirt off earlier, it had ripped many of them open again. One of the lacerations was far deeper than the rest. Xena's nose cringed as she looked it over. Whatever had been done to warrant it must have been of great disobedience.

She swallowed and looked at the back of his head. "This is going to sting."

"Alright. I'm ready when you are." He reached out and gripped the wooden boarder of the cot.

Xena dipped her hand in the cream and applied it to the first wound. Ares bit his lip as the substance was rubbed into it, cleaning it out. As she proceeded to clean the others, her mind reeled. She had never expected to see him like this. She'd never expected for him to be prone to mortal pains. He was Ares of Olympus and, because of her, he had given it all up.

She felt somewhat responsible. He'd done many horrible things in the past that she couldn't forget, but she couldn't help but think that, if only she'd offered to help him with the transition of becoming mortal, he wouldn't be in the state he was now. She shook the conflicting notions from her head and continued.

Each wound she cleaned out thoroughly. The white cream rubbed in transparent and smooth which was good, for it meant that she had mixed the concoction properly.

She worked her way to the worst one of them all. Again, she couldn't help but gather that this one was dealt out with the utmost rage. Xena dipped her hands in the solution, pulled up a handful, and eased her hand down upon the wound. Although Ares had remained quiet throughout the cleansing process, at this, his teeth bared down as he drew a sharp intake of air.

Xena bit her lip, but continued to work the creamy liquid in. It stretched diagonally across the breadth of his back, from the top of his right shoulder to his left hip. Her fingers ran across it before she spoke. "Ares, while the rest of the wounds should heal without a mark...This one is just too deep. It's going to leave a scar."

Deep brown eyes closed as he let a desolate, self-mocking chuckle cross his lips. "How fitting."

Xena was confused. "What are you talking about."

Ares titled his head to look at her. "That one was courtesy of Menelaus himself."

This was a startling confession. Kings very rarely took it upon themselves to punish their prisoners. Now, Xena knew that something must have really set the old man off to do such a thing as this. She made no secret that she wanted to know just what that 'something' was.

She finished administering the cream and set the bowl on the table. She grabbed a clean rag, wiped the remnants from her hand and returned to sit on the cot. Her blue eyes fixated on the brutal laceration. "Tell me what happened."

Ares picked at the wood railing of the cot and lowered his head. The events that had brought on Menelaus' rage were recollections that made him feel very uncomfortable. He had never wanted to be seen as a sentimental fool. Now, she was asking him to tell her the details of that day. He remembered every word spoken, every look conveyed, each moment.

Far below Sparta's royal living quarters, was what was referred to as the "pit". It was a rather small room fixed with a cell. The metal bars were lined in close proximity to one another, making for a most disconcerting space.

The rest of the room was scarce of any semblance of warmth, other than the torches that illuminated the place. It was damp. The floors were dirt, the walls built up out of ragged stones. In the corner was a small wooden table and chair, but a guard rarely sat on duty. None was necessary. The pit was essentially that, a pit of despair and isolation.

The cell itself had only one occupant. The man paced back and forth along the perimeter of bars, running his hand over the cool steel. Never had this being been confined to such a space. It was like caging a wild animal.

It had been a month since Ares had been confined here. Lack of proper food left him feeling less than up to par, yet something kept a driving force within him. This something, was rage. It boiled under his skin like a fire that would not burn out. Yet, all he could do was pace around this small area, and every now and then stare holes through the man who sat guard today.

The robust fellow on duty sat at the table with a rather amused expression on his face. He wore the Spartan uniform, the crest embossed upon the steel armor that adorned his chest. Although the only time a guard, or anyone for that matter, came to the pit, was to drop off some food and water, this particular Spartan always insisted on eating lunch in front of the prisoner.

The smell would taunt Ares' stomach, causing the hatred he felt to grow all the more for his captors. Today, the portly man indulged in a rather large piece of roasted chicken. He'd look over every now and then and comment on how good the food was.

Ares grabbed ahold of the metal bars, his knuckles turning white from gripping so hard. He stared at the guard, a look of utter disgust upon his handsome face.

The fat man chuckled, putting another piece of chicken in his gaping mouth. "You've got an important visitor today."

"Is that so, you pathetic infidel?"

The guard sneered. Grease covered his face, above his lips and even on his chin. He grabbed a wooden club and marched his portly self to the bars. He brought the weapon down on Ares' knuckles, causing him to jerk his hands back and cuss.

Pointing the club at the him, he spat, "You just watch it!" He burped, walked back to the table and resumed eating.

"Oh, I'm watching something alright. What 'it' is, I'm not real sure of as of yet." Ares cocked a brow arrogantly and sat down on the dirt floor.

The guard's name was Idious, a name that made for many a snide remark from Ares. He referred to the man as, 'Idiot' on many occasions.

It was as Idious was about to get up from his seat once more, that the sound of footsteps echoed down the torch lit stairwell. Embroidered imperial garb draped the stairs as the figure they hung from descended.

Hands clasped together at his chest, the jeweled rings bouncing off fire-light, King Menelaus came into sight. A patronizing closed smile was stretched across his face, his eyes focused at the cell before him.

Following behind the king were four armored soldiers. They piled in behind him before lining against the wall and standing at attention.

Ares sat, his jaw clenched in abhorrence. His brown eyes peered out from under black brows with gleam of hatred dotting the dark pools. This was the first time since his capture that Menelaus made move to speak with him. The entire time in the cell had been spent in solitude, save for a guard who brought water and bread.

The king made his way to the bars, lazily running a finger over the confining steel as he walked along the perimeter.

Ares stared on with his lip curled up in despise. "You can't keep me here!" He leaped from the ground and stared Menelaus down.

The old man began to deeply chuckle. "Well, looks as though I can."

"My legions will exact revenge, you old bastard!"

The king stopped his procession and flashed a sardonic grin. "Your legions? Don't you get it by now?"

Ares fumed, gripping the bars between his hands, but uttered not a word.

Menelaus continued, "They followed you for one reason, and one reason only. You had power to give them what they wanted. But alas, you gave up all that power for a woman-YOU FOOL!" The old man could see he had struck a nerve as Ares let go of the bars and took a step back. "Oh yes, the truth of your fall from Olympus is no secret. You're the laughing stock of every general, soldier and warlord who ever pledged loyalty to you. Makes one wonder... if you were that desperate for the comforts of a woman, why didn't you just pay for it?"

Ares turned his chin down and swayed his head admonishingly. "You know nothing about it!"

Menelaus was not about to back down now that he saw he was actually bruising this once imposing figure's ego. He began to laugh again and leaned his head between the bars.

"Don't presume to tell me that *love* had anything to do with it. War knows nothing of love, has no compassion, no concept of matters of the heart. Had you possessed something of that nature, Troy would have never been so hard to defeat."

Ares went to strike at the old man's face, but Menelaus pulled away from the bars just in time. "You son of a bitch! I'll bring this all down on your head, mark my words." His tone was laced with deadly intent.

The king smiled and waved a finger patronizingly in front of Ares' face. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a temper. We can't have that. I think I've been a rather gracious host." Menelaus looked back toward the guard and pointed to the lock of the cell. "Go in and chain him."

Idious got up from the table, wiped his mouth on a napkin and grabbed the keys. He jostled them around between his meaty fingers, walking over to the cell with a smirk. Once the cell was unlocked, he made his way in to it, and looked up at Ares.

The former Olympian raised a brow as the fat man reached for his wrist. "I don't think so!"

Ares backhanded the guard across the face and sent him flying into the bars. The impact sent a shot of pain throughout the man's back. While he was still disoriented, Ares grabbed him by the neck. Idious' eyes grew large with fear as the former Olympian pulled him forward and spun him around, crushing his face into the metal. Ares, again, pulled him off the bars only to send Idious colliding into the cell door. The force made it shut and then open as the fat man's form slid to the ground. Ares moved to exit.

Menelaus acted immediately, signaling his soldiers to make him stand down. They circled him, swords drawn, one at his throat. Ares lifted his chin, looking down his nose at the weapon pressed to his skin.

Menelaus clapped his hands. "How impressive, but it was a rather futile move." The king looked to his men and reiterated the order, "Chain him up!"

Their swords still drawn, the men drove him back into the cell. Hanging from the ceiling on chains were two cuffs. One man on each side of him, two to the front blocking any means of escape, his wrists were bound. The distance between where each cuff dangled resulted in Ares arms being stretched outward and high above him.

It was a most uncomfortable position. The strain caused his muscles to bulge and a irritable throbbing to surface. Chest expanded, it almost made it difficult to breathe properly, causing Ares to take deep draws of air.

"You've just signed your death warrant, Menelaus!" Ares' eyes held nothing but contempt for the old man.

The king marched into the cell, parting the soldiers who stood poised to strike. He was now directly in front of Ares' towering form and cocked his head. "Is that so? How soon you forget that nobody cares what happens to you. Your power is gone, Ares, and with it, the loyalties of legions. You are nothing more than a simple mortal. No assets, no friends, no family... Which, when you really look at it, puts you in the lowest class of men." Menelaus pointed at Idious, who was still sprawled on the ground unconscious. "This simpleton ranks higher than you. Now tell me, how does that make you feel?"

Ares spit in his face. One of the soldiers rammed the hilt of a sword into his ribs for the insubordination. Feeling the pain race through him, his arms pulled at the manacles that bound him in reflex, his eyes and jaw clenching in pain.

Menelaus wiped the spit from his face and gazed at his hand. The old man raised a brow and backhanded the prisoner across the jaw. "Best you learn your place now!"

Ares head bobbed to the side and then dropped from the strike. As he lifted it back up, he smiled patronizingly, a small trickle of blood running down from the mouth.

The king flared his nostrils at the expression. "You think this is funny do you?"

"Not particularly, but they say you should try and find humor in times like these," Ares chimed in.

"Do you know what I find funny?" Menelaus drew his brows to a point.

He shook his head. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

This remark prompted the king to clench his fists and stick out his jaw. As the wave of anger began to slightly ebb, he changed his expression to one of sarcastic amusement. He clasped his hands together and smirked.

"What I find funny is your stupidity. You had it ALL, Ares! You were one with Olympus! You had all of Greece at your disposal, legions willing to raise their swords at your command! Power, luxury, comfort--all these things!! You had want for NOTHING. Ares was a name to fear!!! You had ALL this--for eternity and you gave it up for WHAT," Menelaus stopped his speech. He looked directly into Ares' enraged eyes and with the most hateful tone he could, finished the sentence. "You gave it all up for a WOMAN!"

A smile crossed the old man's lips seeing the bound man pull at the manacles upon hearing this. He chose to continue to stoke the burning rage within.

"And now look at you- a mere footnote in history. You did it all for nothing, Ares. NOTHING-for after all this-all you gave up for this mortal woman, where is she now?" Menelaus smiled with maliciously. "Not with you-that is for certain. She too, probably saw this whole overture as pathetic and is now off somewhere laughing at your stupidity and how she duped you into helping her cause."

Ares' jugular strained against his throat, teeth clenched. He struggled against the manacles, but the chains had been plated to the ceiling with over three layers of steel. Menelaus laughing in his face, he did the only thing he could do in this state. Leaning back against the support of the bonds, Ares thrust a leg upward and kicked the old man upside the head, knocking him painfully to the dirt floor.

Ares leaned forward, breathing in and out with great force. His mouth hung agape, and that handsome face was twisted with hate. "I'll KILL YOU!!!!!! Do you hear me you son of a bitch!?!?!? I'll KILL YOU!!!!"

Again, the soldiers went into action, pummeling Ares in the chest with the hilts of their swords. He could feel the pain race through his ribs and threw his head back as it washed over him.

Menelaus began to rise. One hand supporting him on the ground, he raised the other to his mouth. He pulled his fingers away to find that he had been wounded. The kick had caused one of his teeth to push through into the soft flesh of his inner lip. The old man got up from the ground, but not before pulling a whip from Idious' still unconscious form.

A burning angst in his old eyes, he stood. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

The king pushed the soldiers away from Ares, who by now was clenching his jaw in indescribable pain. Menelaus moved toward the back of the cell, whip in hand. He raised his arm and with all his strength, brought the coarse leather down upon Ares' back. As it connected, it sliced the shirt, digging mercilessly into the flesh. The sound was grotesque as the skin split open. Ares' head threw backward on impact, feeling the sting burn through him, but he made not a sound. The shock had stolen his breath.

Menelaus' arm came down and his hand shook violently with rage, so much so, that the whip fell from it. He took ahold of the ex-Olympian by his hair and yanked his head back. The old man's breathing was labored for he was consumed with hatred, but he managed to whisper one last sentence into Ares' ear.

"You....are.....nothing." The king threw the prisoner's head forward and walked back toward the opening to the cell. He still shook with rage as he pointed to his soldiers. "Drag Idious out of here."

Stepping over the guard's body, one of the soldiers stopped his departure. "What about him?"

He leered at Ares, who hung almost lifeless from the bonds. Menelaus flared his nostrils and extended his regal chin. "Plans are already underway. Now come on." The king turned back around and walked out of the cell with an exhausted, ragged gait.

The soldiers did as ordered and dragged Idious from the cell, locking the door behind them. They left the guard on the floor and followed their king out of the pit and up the stairs.

Ares remembered all this. He recalled the humility of the situation and now, Xena wanted to know the events of that day. She wanted to know what had brought on such wrath. Menelaus' words had stung worse than the whip ever could. He had mocked the actions that had brought about the downfall of Olympus. The old king had insisted that, for everything Ares had given up, it only resulted in painting him as a sentimental joke.

The ex-Olympian gazed at Xena as she sat on the edge of the cot waiting to hear the explanations, and Menelaus' cruel words echoed back through Ares' mind:

"You had it ALL, Ares! You were one with Olympus! You had all of Greece at your disposal, legions willing to raise their swords at your command! Power, luxury, comfort--all these things!! You had want for NOTHING. Ares was a name to fear!!! You had ALL this--for eternity and you gave it up for WHAT? You gave it all up for a WOMAN! And now look at you- a mere footnote in history. You did it all for nothing, Ares. NOTHING-for after all this-all you gave up for this mortal woman, where is she now? Not with you-that is for certain. She too, probably saw this whole overture as pathetic and is now off somewhere laughing at your stupidity and how she duped you into helping her cause."

Ares' expression turned to that of disdain. Xena's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to read him. Her head lowered as she tilted it to the side. "What is it, Ares?? What happened to you?"

He swallowed back and shakily looked away to the floor. Those words still swam over him tumultuously. Ares couldn't dare tell her. Not now, anyway. Perhaps what Menelaus had spoken was true. Perhaps, the only reason she sat here now was out of some sort of twisted pity. Ares closed his eyes trying to push these notions out of his aching head, but they resisted. He took in a deep breath of air.

"I don't want to discuss it. At least not right now, but I need to know something, Xena. I need you to be honest with me." He stared up at her, a most serious look shrouding his face.

Xena gazed at him, confused. "What is it you want to know?"

"Why are you doing this? Is it-"

She lowered her eyes in guilt. She knew what he was going to say and she cut him off, "This is not about pity."

She took a moment to pull the words together. She knew what the repercussions were of what he'd done. Xena knew what he had given up to save her life. It wasn't that she felt indebted to him, it was more of a revelation. It was the discovery that the bond between them was still there. She sucked on her bottom lip and sighed.

"I couldn't just walk away. We go too far back for that. You're not some stranger. You've been there from the beginning. You probably know more about me than myself in some ways."

He began to sit up on the cot and bared down as his ribs protested. Ares knew this was making her feel uncomfortable. Just as he didn't want to discuss the conversation that had led to the scarring whip mark on his back, he knew that she needed time to sort things out too.

"Don't say anything else. I just wanted to make sure that this wasn't all out of pity."

Xena's gaze held fast to him until he looked away. She lowered her eyes and took her lip between her teeth. It was a rather tense moment of silence. Xena looked over at the table in the center of the room and onto the bottle of bracing oil that sat on top.

"Almost forgot."

"What?"

She got up from the cot and grabbed the oil. "Stand up."

Ares did so, grimacing as he stood. "What's that for?"

Xena poured the oil into a cupped hand, put the bottle back down and ran her hands together. "It's bracing oil. It should numb the muscles around your ribs and ease the pain." She moved to apply it and as she touched his chest, she felt him flinch.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No."

He looked down at Xena. Her hands were upon his chest doing their best to soothe the raging pain and he watched on curiously as she continued to rub the oil into his skin. She didn't need to be doing this, yet she was.

She massaged the substance along his chest and down his torso. She could feel the ribs protrude under her palms. This caused her head to bow in compassion, but she carried on massaging the brace into his skin. Once she was satisfied that enough had been applied, Xena let her hands gently slide down off his sides and grabbed another rag to dry them.

"There. Feel better?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

Xena meekly smiled and scratched her arm, thoughtfully. "You're going to need to let those wounds stay uncovered over night."

Ares ran a hand over his face and nodded. His fingers traversed his beard and the other hand weaved through his hair. "Are there any cutting shears down here?"

She smirked at his question.

"Yee-ah. There should be a pair..."

Xena walked over to the wooden shelves, a finger pressed to her lips, and found what she was looking for. She held them up and directed him to sit at the table. "We'll get you cleaned up in no time. You'll need to grab a sheet from that cot and completely cover your back while I do this." She wiped the dust off onto a rag she had used earlier as he covered up his back and sat down. Taking a handful of his black hair, she opened the shears, but stopped short just as she was about to cut through the locks. "How do you want this?"

"I...I want to look the way I did the last time you saw me."

Ares brows lowered. The answer was not just in reference to hair length, but about his entire being. He want to be as he was before: strong, imposing, well kept. He realized that his answer had sounded a bit too vulnerable, and not being one to come off as weak, rephrased the answer.

"I mean, short-please."

Xena had picked up on what the underlying message was in his first sentence, but thought it best not to acknowledge it. He'd been through enough today. She merely nodded and started clipping away the hair. She watched as the black locks fell gracefully from his head, drifting down to the wooden table and floor. Pursing her lips in deep thought, her hands ran through his hair. Xena realized it was time to tell him something that she had to say... something he had to hear.

"I want to.. thank.. you again for what you did....."

Ares was admittedly a bit shocked to hear this come from her lips. The words seemed so out of place. He was still coming to terms with the fact that he'd lost everything. Not only that, but he had been told, repeatedly, that Xena probably saw the whole ordeal as almost comical. While he wanted to believe her sincerity, all he could do was remember Menelaus' words.

So, he meekly shrugged his shoulders and answered plainly, "I did what I had to, just like you do."

She pulled another lock of hair up and snipped it. "That's just the thing though." She swallowed back. "You didn't. Ares, you-"

He raised his hand, halting her words, and squeezed his eyes shut before rolling them back open. He looked despondently at the lit torch.

"I don't really want to talk about it right now. It feels forced...and out of place."

Another lock of hair descended gracefully to the floor.

Xena had thought that, perhaps, if he knew that she did appreciate what he'd done for her, that it was something special, heroic, that he would see that it didn't go unnoticed. She knew talking about Olympus wasn't the best idea. She'd seen the reaction it prompted when she had brought it up on the ridge earlier. Xena thought this was different though. She thought she was bringing it up in a way that would show him that what he had done was looked at as selfless and that she truly did thank him for it.

She understood his reluctance, regardless.

Running her fingers through his hair, and pulling up the last section to be cut, she tipped her head. "Alright, I respect that." Again the shears clasped down on the strands. She pushed her hand along, removing the severed hair and grinned. "I have more skills than I thought."

Ares took a breath. "What do you mean."

"Well, just wait. Let me finish up. Face me."

He turned in the seat. She took the shears to his beard and snipped away the grown out tuffs of hair from his chin. Her eyes were squinted and her was mouth puckered as she systematically decided at which angles to cut.

"Press your lips together like this." Xena showed him what she meant, making him chuckle half-heartedly.

"Like this?" He mimicked her action causing her to quietly laugh as well.

"Yeah that's it." She nodded her head.

Black hair spilled over her shoulders as she leaned down and began to cut away the growth from above his top lip. It was amazing, because before her very eyes such a transformation was taking place. Although he was still in need of time to recuperate, Ares was beginning to shine through the rough exterior. Xena smiled deeply and stood up.

"There."

Ares ran a hand across his face. "Done yet?"

She closed one eye and again puckered. "Umm, almost."

Xena walked over to the shelf and grabbed a jar. She opened it and scooped the substance out onto her fingers. "This is a plant residue. It's kind of the same as what I used earlier. It moisturizes the skin, but doesn't affect sense of touch."

She pulled up a chair with her dry hand and sat down in front of him. Taking the residue to his face, she rubbed it over the coarsely cut hair on his jawline. To his surprise, she reached down into her ample cleavage and pulled out a breast dagger. Her eyes traced the finely honed edge and sparkled.

"This should work."

As the dagger was brought within an inch of his skin, he gently grabbed her wrist, a wary expression on his face. "What are you doing?"

"I know what I'm doing. You of all people should know how skilled I am with weaponry." She smiled wryly.

"Um, yeah...but you're usually killing people at the time." Ares still gazed at her with uncertainty.

Xena smirked and with her free hand removed his from her wrist. "Relax."

Reluctantly, he lowered his arm. As soon as he did, Xena took a firm hold of his chin and made him tilt his head. With precision she ran the dagger across Ares' firm skin and with each stroke extrapolated the surplus stubble. She repeated this motion, every now and then stopping to wipe the steel edges across the rag. After going from one side of his face to the other, she took the clean end of the cloth, wiped it across his skin, sat back and smiled.

Ares cocked his head. "Should I even ask?"

She got up and grabbed an old shield from the corner of the room. Xena handed it to him on her return and crossed her arms. "I don't know...you tell me."

He took the shield between both hands, his eyes still looking up at her. She had a smirk on her face that resembled that of someone who had just gotten away with something sinister. Pressing his tongue to his teeth, Ares closed his eyes and sighed. He placed the shield in front of his face and hesitantly peered through black lashes.

What was revealed to him caused a warm wave of self-conscious renewal. The shield held his reflection. Had he not known better he would have thought himself completely restored to his former grace. The well chiseled features echoed back from the reflection, strong and masculine. The corners of his mouth flickered up in momentary joy, only to ease down again as he caught sight of his eyes. The fire that had lingered behind them for eons was still diffused and a hollow glare remained.

Ares' lips parted open, a stifled word unable to breech their gates, as he put the shield down. He didn't know what to say, exactly. For an instant he felt new again, only to realize that it was a facade.

Xena watched on. Witnessing the reaction, her smiled had faded as well. Ares pushed the shield away and quickly stood. He walked to the corner of the room and bowed his head. Forceful, rapid breaths were drawn in and just as hurriedly squeezed out as he slammed a fist against the wall.

She looked down at her feet. It was a bittersweet moment indeed. Perhaps he had expected that the only thing that had held him prisoner was the appearance of being one. It wasn't such an absurd thought. Xena had experienced it before herself. When changing her ways she'd attempted to discard every item that served as a reminder of her dark days...but it never erased the memory of them.

Walking toward him, her face sullenly fell. Xena reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the granules of dirt that fell from the wall from under his touch.

"Ares....I understand that this had been an awful ordeal. You'll regain your strength..you just need to take it easy."

"No... Don't you get it!?" Ares spun around. Firelight cast shadows across his face. The adam's apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed down. Opening his hands he gazed down to the palms. Painful recollections churned in his mind like an impending tidal wave. "I had it all, Xena---Nearly anything I wanted was a mere motion of the hand away---a thought--a breath...and now-"

Her stature shrunk. Little time ago, he'd expressed a want to suppress this conversation, but now that wall had, for some reason, lost its fidelity and was in the midst of crumbling down into desolate debris. She bowed her head and gazed up from under dark lashes.

"And now?"

Still transfixed by callused palms of his hands, Ares' fingers curled down into fists. Muscles tightened under blanched skin before releasing in defeat. Desperation, so profound, so constricting, seized the mortal's face as a mocking chuckle cruelly fell from his lips.

"Now? Now...there's only an emptiness, Xena.... My powers, my home, my family, my legions...all gone. I don't know where to go, how to be-----nothing."

She parted her lips, cupping her hand over them as the words formulated in her mind. All the while her head continued to shake until, finally, she knew what to say. "This is new to you- I understand that Ares, but allow yourself time. You'll see that this world has a lot to offer. That in time-"

Abruptly cutting her off, an askance look crossed his face. "What? What, Xena? TIME?? I was brought into this world not so long after the sun first rose to greet the sky! You'd think that after eons of watching the internal struggle of mortals I'd understand them, but I don't even understand myself! Can you fathom that?! EONS, Xena...I saw the birth of the world as you know it, and still... it is nothing more than a stranger to me. I'm a stranger to myself-" Loathing apparent, he began to beat at his bare chest with a fist and threw his head back. "I don't know who I am anymore! I don't know if I ever knew!"

She grabbed him about the wrist, attempting to impede the self-hate she saw brewing within. At her touch, he looked down at her, his lip twitching. Xena fixated on his eyes. They held nothing but a desperate rage. The only words that dared to spring to her lips came in the form of a question breathed out just over the dull hush of a whisper.

"Then why did you do it?"

"You know why."

Ares moved past her to the old wooden table at the center of the room and propped a leg up. His elbow came down upon his thigh, a cupped hand resting his regal chin. Up until he had actually sat, Ares' eyes hadn't left hers. Now, they closed under thick lashes.

Xena ran a hand through her black hair and with doubting strides, stepped toward her former mentor. Standing before him, she crossed her arms. With carefully chosen words, her reply to this remark made its way to his ears.

"Yes, I know why you did it. I never thought you cable of doing something so heroic, but you did. For that, I thank you. You gave my daughter back to me-my best friend."

He wearily looked up. "I don't want anything from you, Xena. This isn't about debt or seeking pity. It all doesn't matter anymore. I'm sure there are many a mortal who find the whole situation utterly pathetic and humorous and perhaps they should." Ares ran a hand across his knee. "I guess I just missed the joke."

"Then I missed it too."

Ares gazed up at her and there, beneath her eyes, looking back at him, was proof that she had meant the words that had just crossed her lips. For no longer than a blink of an eye, the corner of his mouth turned upward. This motion, although brief, did not go unnoticed by Xena and both now held each other's stare. It was a silent conversation, but one that held a sense of importance.

It was a moment of revelation.

A moment that was soon stifled, for treading footsteps broke the solitude.

Standing in the shadows was Gabrielle, her hands gripped tightly around freshly subdued dinner. Her face was scrunched up hesitantly, for she realized that she had walked in something rather tense.

Motioning with her free hand she titled her head and quietly informed them, "I'm umm..going to go skin these...and um...I'm sorry--"

Xena shook her head and raised a hand. "No, it's alright. I'll come help you." The warrior looked back at Ares and with a hushed whisper declared, "This conversation isn't over."

He took his lip between teeth and nodded.

***********************************************************

Working a knife under the thick fur of a rabbit, Xena's gaze was held in contemplation. Gabrielle watched on as her friend proceeded in skinning the last animal that was soon to be put on the spit with the other two. The bard's face turned up with a wary expression, for she knew that the warrior was in the midst of some sort of quandary. She shifted in her wooden seat beside the inflamed hearth and stroked the edge of the chair with her finger before finally deciding to ask what was on her mind.

"Is Ares alright? Did I interrupt something important?"

Xena looked up from across the table, pulling the skin away from the rabbit and placing the pelt to the side. She wiped her hands on a cloth and moved to place the carcass on the spit. The firelight danced off her crouching form as she bowed her head. "I don't know, Gabrielle. He's...lost."

The bard crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. "Well, I'm sure he'll learn to adjust."

"That's the thing," she paused and pushed along the logs burning at the base with a metal rod, "I don't know if he wants to."

Gabrielle looked up at the ceiling and emitted a forlorn sigh. "We can't always control the way we become. The harder we try to hold onto something, the further away it flees."

Xena stood and propping herself up on a crate, her eyes held fast to the raging fire in the hearth. The crackling sparks popped and fizzled. Her brows lowered and her mouth turned down into a frown.

"Sometimes, I don't know how I got to this point or why....but, the long and short of it is that I'm here...and you must make do...I wonder if he'll learn to see it this way. He's Ares. He had a power that was unfathomable, and now he's just a mortal. It's almost like he's a newborn to this world. He's confused, lost, and I can't help but feel that-"

"That if you'd helped Ares transition, he wouldn't be the way he is now?" Gabrielle picked a cobweb off of her arm, most likely left there from when she'd returned with their dinner, and continued, "Xena....that night-that whole situation...I don't know...it was too much for any of us to take into consideration what those actions would produce today."

The warrioress looked at her friend and again, her face fell. "It's a day that I often wanted to forget. Things were so out of control...."

Xena's eyes closed in remembrance of how she'd nearly killed her best friend. It was indeed a painful memory, one that she wanted desperately to erase. Neither of them had really spoken about it. It was a matter that, for some time, both thought best to just let go as if it'd never happened. But, Xena knew the repercussions of it would linger. She'd often played dumb in response to the attitude that Gabrielle had lately, but she did know the cause of it.

She took a deep breath and looked to her friend. Gabrielle had been so innocent when they'd first started these travels together. She recalled that young, wide-eyed girl seeking adventure and knowledge. Together they took on the world and learned from each other what it was to be selfless. Yes, Xena remembered the sisterly bond they forged almost instantaneously, so long ago. The stories she'd tell late at night beside a crackling fire often echoed in the warrioress' mind.

Gabrielle had admired Xena's strength and skill. She had wanted to be Xena and learn the ways of heroic warriors and over the years, the girl had done just that. Her grand idealism and noble notions of peace, however, dissipated with each swing of her staff, each jab of her sais.

Now, the bard was a woman with such a deep seeded regret that it seemed to emanate from every pore of her being. Xena felt an immense guilt for that. True, she didn't know what she would have done if Gabrielle hadn't been there for her through the years, but lately, Xena felt the need to distance herself from the friendship and deep down she knew it was because she wanted the bard to find her own way in this world and not rely on her to know all the answers.

Yet, Xena never spoke of it. She knew that telling Gabrielle something such as that could be easily misinterpreted as ungratefulness, mistrust, and cold.

The raven-tressed woman shook her head and the words loomed as they stuttered out, "I'm.. sorry."

"Sorry?"

Xena's eyes dimmed. "I'm sorry for what...it was a crazy situation, Gabrielle. If Ares hadn't done what he did, you'd be..." She closed her eyes. "You'd be dead right now...because of me. I don't know how you found it in your heart not to hate me for it and sometimes... I think you should."

Gabrielle was shocked to hear that last line. Her brows furrowed as she bobbed her head from side to side. "After what I did to Eve..."

Xena raised a hand. "NO! Gabrielle...it wasn't YOU. It was the Furies! Yet, I did it anyway...I don't know how you can stand call me 'friend' after that."

Looking down and picking at her boot laces, the bard cast a sideways glance. "Because, that's what you are," she stated matter-of-factly. The young woman shut her eyes and clenched her jaw, recalling the betrayal she had felt that day. She knew that the circumstances had not been black and white that fateful night, but she couldn't help the way it felt. "YES, I'm still troubled by what happened, but I can't allow it to tarnish all I hold as true. I WANTED to hate you, Xena...but I couldn't...I can't."

"You can't hold me up to that pedestal anymore! You say you tried to hate me, but you couldn't. When I hear you say that, it reminds me of that young and innocent girl from so long ago and it pains me to think that she doesn't exist anymore."

Dragging a finger down the wall, Gabrielle watched as clumps of dust began to gather. "What are you trying to say?"

Xena took a moment. What, exactly, was she trying to say? That was a good question and one that she was not necessarily prepared for. She rolled her eyes up and drew in a breath. She chose that it would be best to just say what came to mind.

"Can you honestly tell me that you're alright and content with what you've become? Gabrielle, I want what's best for you and this cannot be it. I will always see you as a sister, a confidant, my best-friend. You think that I'm unaware to what you're going through, yet I see it everyday- and everyday it gets worse. I saw the expression on your face tonight during that fight. Your regret almost got you killed. You're losing what's left of your joy..."

Gabrielle stood, walked over to the table, and leaned on it. Her face was sullen, a tear balancing on the edge of her eye. She faced forward, her back to Xena, and with a dulled tone asked, "So, you want me to go then..."

The warrioress stared off past the bard. "I want you to be happy. I don't want you to end up hollow inside because of the things this sort of path leads one to. After we get out of Spartan territory..."

She nodded her head and cut Xena off, wiping the tear from her eye. She turned to face her. "All this time I thought you were blind to what I was going through. The truth is, I'm scared to go..."

Xena looked back into the fire. "We don't need to discuss this right now. I don't even know how it came up...it's just that I see what this is doing to you...and...I don't know...I don't know. We'll just concentrate on the matters at hand, and see what happens. You're my best-friend, Gabrielle...you helped me to see that I was capable of being something better than I was."

"You did the same for me and that's why I can't understand how or why we can't both leave it all behind. I'm confused as to why you bring this up all the sudden. It just seems like it's coming out of nowhere. We're best friends, and yet it's like we're strangers." The bard took the sais from her boots and put them on the table, her face still holding that sullen gaze.

Xena's eyes, still transfixed by the fire, were glossy. It wasn't merely this conversation, but what had happened with Ares was weighing on her as well. She'd realized how blind she'd truly been, never thinking to question actions that served to suit her purposes. She never thought about the pain and loss those around her felt when extending their help in such selfless ways. Now, it was becoming all too clear and the stoic warrioress could no longer turn away from it.

She bowed her head. "I'm just realizing for the first time how indifferent I can be. For some stupid reason I always tend to expect things from those around me rather than show gratitude for them. But, I can't turn my back on the path I lead, Gabrielle. My heart is that of a warrior's and turning away from that would be the same as denying who I am."

Xena desperately wanted to get off the subject. They could talk about it later. There were just too many things to concern herself with at the present moment. She knew that it was not the best time to engage this sort of conversation, but once she started expressing the guilt she felt, she couldn't suppress the words from spilling out. She now stared back and managed to meekly smile.

"This isn't the time for this...and dinner is almost done...we'll sort it out when the time is right."

Gabrielle kicked at the dirt floor with the toe of her boot. Her arms were crossed and those green eyes stared off into nothing. "Yeah..once we get out of this mess..But, let me ask you one thing. Do you regret our friendship?"

Xena gazed up and with an infallible expression, shook her head and simply uttered the word, "Never."

A great silence washed over the room. It was going to be a long night.

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The black of night had reluctantly ebbed, making way for the sun to greet the sky with its warm majesty. Streams of light poured down over the countryside, introduced by the gentle harmonies of birds.

Within the Royal Palace of Sparta, candles still flickered upon melting wax. Once long and thin, they had burned down to mere numbs. They were on each wall of the room and danced underneath the elaborate ornamentations of weaponry, as well as jewel bedecked works of art.

Beams of light made their way through the glass window of the room and fell upon a large four-poster bed. On either side were intricately etched tables, both with large urns placed atop. From the posts of the bed, beautiful silk cascaded down to the floor in pools of green. The sheets were green as well, and billowed luxuriously.

An arm was draped down over the side of the bed and jeweled fingers skimmed the stone floor. The figure grunted and rolled over as lazy, faded brown, eyes slowly began to open. They burned as the air hit. Menelaus propped his back up on the large pillows and yawned. A sporadic cough rumbled through the old man's chest.

He wearily looked down at himself. He was wearing the same robes as yesterday. This wasn't an odd occurrence. Normally, when he drank to excess as he had done last night, the servants would carry the old man to bed after he passed out. He figured such was this, for he felt a great pain throbbing through his head.

Menelaus looked next to him. The pillow adjacent to his own was still fluffed and it was clear that no one had used it all night. A graying brow lowered as he curled his lips into a belligerent sneer.

Hearing the large door creak open, he crossed his arms. There was only one person who need not knock upon entering this room and he knew that it was she who came in now.

Cautiously, Taris, Queen of Sparta, backed into the room. Her face held a most uneasy expression. Trying to use stealth, she quietly shut the door behind her, but jumped as she turned around to see Menelaus already awake and glaring at her bemusedly.

"And where would my wife be coming from this early in the morning," he asked sarcastically.

Taris' green eyes lowered as she attempted to regain her composure. She took a breath and looked away from him, walking around the room and putting out the lit candles. She was wearing the same white silk night gown from last evening, a crushed green velvet cloak with the Spartan emblem over it. She gulped and stared at the lingering smoke that rose from an extinguished candle, before proceeding to answer him as though the question had been silly.

"I merely got up earlier than you. You were passed out all night...as usual."

Menelaus' eyes fell to look beside him and he shook his head furiously. "Then explain why your pillow has not been touched, wife!"

Taris stood tall and lifted her chin. "Why do you even care?!"

"I care because, just like every item in this kingdom, every work that's been commissioned, you are mine! So, where were you?!" The old man slammed a fist down onto the soft sheets.

She looked toward the ground, her body slightly trembling. She didn't want this morning to be a reproduction of last night. "I thought my presence would be of annoyance to you, dear husband. As such, I stayed away," Taris replied with a patronizing tone.

Menelaus' right hand reached to a glass of water that sat upon the nearby bed stand. He brought the glass toward his lips, but stopped short of drinking. "Is that so?"

Taris pushed a lock of hair from her face and nodded. "Yes, it is."

He took the cup to his lips and drank deep of it, rolling his eyes. He gripped the item firmly before his face contorted into a dark menacing glare. He threw the cup across the room and lunged out of the bed. Taris backed away toward the door. She was pressed firmly against it as he brought a hand to her face and ran fingers down the length of it.

"You best not be lying to me."

Her eyes wide, she shook her head as her mouth fell agape. Menelaus stroke the bruised area of her mouth. The same spot where he'd struck her the night before.

"You better see what your servants can do to cover this up. I don't want you walking around with it for all to see. You're the Queen of Sparta whether you're grateful or not and you will look and act accordingly."

She uttered an inaudible, "Yes."

The king glared down at her, not hearing her response, and gripping her arms, shook her. "Do you hear me!?"

"YES!! I...hear you." Taris bowed her head. She wanted out of this situation and the sooner the better.

No sooner did this thought cross her mind than a knock echoed from behind the door.

Menelaus' imposing stature shrunk with each knock, and all the while the old man's grip loosed from around Taris' shoulders.

He took a step back, cocked his head and whispered, "Get out of the way."

"My pleasure," she replied, rather shaken. Taris walked toward the window and stared down into the courtyard, her arms crossed against her chest.

He stared back at her, sneered, and then walked back to the bed as he prodded at the robes he wore. He leaned toward the other night stand where a box sat, and pulled out the royal crown. Menelaus placed the item upon his head, smoothed back mussed hair and sat up.

He cleared his throat and announced, “You may enter."

The door opened and there in the doorway, dressed in plush garb, was Phazon, member of the high council. He ran a hand through his curly graying hair and slightly bowed in recognition of the king. The little man leered at Taris' who still stood at the window, and smirked.

"Menelaus, I suggest the news I bring be kept between us." Phazon's head bobbed toward the queen whose back remained turned.

The old man nodded. Without even casting a sideways glance at her, Menelaus simply barked out another order. "I must talk business now. Leave us."

Stiffly, she looked away from the window, raised her chin in indignation, and pulled the cloak tighter around her chest. Taris walked to the door, ignoring the stare coming from Phazon, and stopped short at the exit.

The queen, with one hand placed upon the latch, patronizingly bowed, raising only her eyes to look at her husband, and with words laced with sarcasm replied, "Again, tis my pleasure."

It was then, the door shut.

Phazon let a small chuckle escape his thin lips. "She's rather feisty, isn't she?"

This question was responded to with a roll of the eyes, and a joke. "You could say that.....but not nearly as feisty as those women you toss dinars at I'm sure."

The little man smiled. "Well, you know me. Always holding firm to Sparta's bosom."

The comment sent Menelaus into laughing, which in turn caused another coughing fit to rumble through the old man's chest. Clenching his hand into a fist, he lifted it to his lips attempting to muffle the noise. As they subsided, he swallowed back and cast a sly grin.

"Yes, I know. You're quite the ladies' man. But, now onto more pertinent matters. The search party. Are they back?"

Phazon glanced down the floor and picked up the cup which had been thrown earlier. Walking over to a table adjacent to the wall, he raised a pitcher and filled it with water. He let out a sigh and made his way back toward Menelaus, handed him the drink and crossed his arms.

"No, they're not. But, Sparta is a large territory."

The king frowned and drank from the mug. The cool water raced down his palate and he looked back to his compatriot warily. "Yes, it is. Ares and his bitch are no doubt trapped somewhere on Spartan land." He ran a finger around the lip of the cup and continued. "I'm just rather uneasy. As you know, I depart today to the neighboring kingdom of Pylos to talk trade. I won't be back for four days."

This news pleased Phazon. He always did enjoy it when the king was away, for he was second in command. A twinkle in his eye, he grinned naughtily. "You shouldn't worry so. Sparta is in capable hands, sire."

"Yes, capable indeed, of groping every young woman that crosses your path." Menelaus stood up and sat the drink down, placing a hand on Phazon's back. "Make sure our men remain alert. If the search party I sent out has not yet returned by the time I do, we'll know that they met up with foul play."

The small man tipped his head. "Yes, understood." As he began to look up, the councilman caught site of something rather intriguing hanging around the king's neck. Pointing a finger and lowering a brow the man questioned, "What's this trinket?"

Menelaus looked down at his own chest and ran a hand down a black leather strap to a marvelously intricate pendant. The craftsmanship was not that of mortal hands. No, this seemed the work of an ethereal being.

The old man emitted a chuckle as he moved fingers over the object. "This you mean? Yes, fine trinket indeed. After all...it once belonged to," and in a mocking tone he finished his sentence, "mighty Ares of Olympus!" He proceeded to laugh.

"You don't say? Eh, not as though he'll need it once we find the old boy again." Phazon jokingly elbowed Menelaus in the shoulder and grinned.

The king's exterior, however, had suddenly returned to one of seriousness. He breathed out forcefully and pointed his finger at his friend. "Remember what I told you--all guards on alert. I want Ares brought back...for when people recall me years after my passing, I want them to remember Menelaus as the king who conquered war itself."

Phazon ran a hand through his curly brown locks and sighed. "Tis a shame Sparta has grown so weak in its own ideals. I often read old scrolls and documentation of long ago. Each boy started training by the tender year of seven, every man was called to serve and taught to tread with absolute bravery. Now, look at our citizens. They cower to one woman's sword."

"Their cowardice I am aware of and you know who I blame. No warrior heart do they possess, and for that, I point the finger at Ares. All paths lead back to that being and it's all the more reason to bring him to justice." Menelaus placed a hand upon the door latch, but turned to throw in one last comment. "Judgment has been passed."

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The Queen of Sparta looked on incredulously at the plump red-headed woman in commoner's dress before her as a servant removed her royal robes behind.

Taris shook her head with disbelief. "Are you certain?"

The larger lady chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes m'lady. After thirty years, I'd like to think I know what I'm talkin' about."

With a gasp, the queen brought a hand to her own lips and bowed her head. She turned on her heel and stepped into a spacious stone tub of hot water. Slowly, Taris lowered her body into the heated depths, parting the floating path of rose petals that skimmed the water. She kept her back to the woman behind her, and with a delicate turn of the wrist, dismissed her servant.

The young girl was dressed in formal Spartan servant attire, which consisted of a green cotton chiton and white sash. She quickly bowed and exited, and once she was gone Taris took a breath. She ran her fingertips over the placid surface of the water. A contemplative expression was held on her finely, delicate face. She found herself lost in a complicated quandary.

Without turning to face to her company, she pursed her lips and raised her eyes toward the chandelier above, which illuminated the bathing room with lit candles. A small tear loomed upon the edge of one eye as the queen breathed out, "How long, Agnes?"

The portly woman adjusted the apron about her large belly. She wore a smile from ear to ear, unable to detect Taris' melancholy. "I would say a wee over a month. Tis a miracle for one of your years." She picked up a mug of water from a nearby table, took a sip and then continued, elated, "The king will be joyous!"

Taris could feel the tear roll down her face, burning all the way down till it dripped from her chin into the water below, causing it to ripple. She wiped her face with wet hands and spun around in the tub.

With almost a desperate plea she replied, "No, you mustn't say anything about this to anyone!"

Agnes' red brows came to a point. "Why ever not, m'lady? Surely you're happy?" The large woman's expression suddenly changed. Confusion gave way to a smirk and a bounce of the head. "Oh, I know...you want to surprise the old king yerself! How romantic."

"Surprise? Oh, yes. I want to surprise my husband." Taris swallowed and sunk back down into the tub. Scooping the water over her shoulders, she pressed her lips together and breathed out in worry.

"Again, do not tell anyone, Agnes. This information stays between you and me-that is all," she continued, looking over her shoulder.

Agnes bowed her head and ran fingers through her curly red hair. "No problem. Is there anything else you'd be needing me for, or is it alright to go, my queen?"

Taris shook her head. "No, you may go."

The portly woman bowed. Grabbing ahold of her apron, she pulled the length up, and began to exit. Beneath the doorway, Agnes turned once more to face the soaking woman.

"May I ask you one more question before I go?"

"Of course."

"Well, the bruise on your face.."

Taris, feeling self-conscious, raised a hand to it and cut the woman off, "Horse riding accident."

Agnes nodded her head. "Well, I'm sure it'll disappear in no time." The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. "Isn't often a queen is told orders, but no more riding for you, m'dear. Not till you aren't so delicate that is." She clasped her hands together and looked up toward the ceiling, joyously shaking her head. "Tis a miracle!" Again she bowed, accompanying the motion with a wink of the eye and left the room, her shadow trailing behind.

Taris inwardly groaned as she sucked on her bottom lip and submerged herself in the tub. Rising back up, water cascaded down her face. She wiped it away with both hands and upon reopening her eyes, found the same young servant girl standing by the doorway.

She lowered a brow at the young woman. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, my queen."

"No, that's alright. What's the matter?"

The girl brushed a lock of auburn hair from her face. "Well, I was stopped in the hallway by one of the magistrates. Seems as though some of the locals are running short on wheat because of the drought."

Taris raised a finger to her temple and nodded. "I see. Well, just ration out some of the palace's supply to them."

The servant cocked her head. "Begging your pardon, but won't the king be displeased?"

"King Menelaus is away on other matters. Do as I say," she replied firmly.

"Should I pass this order by Phazon first?"

Taris allowed a sardonic laugh to pass her lips. "Oh yes, he is second in command when the king's away isn't he?" She furrowed her brows and continued, "Phazon may be part of the high council but he does not reside within the palace, therefore its goods are none of the man's affair. Now, go do as I say. I won't allow these people to go without due to a technicality."

The servant bowed. "Yes, my queen. It shall be done."

Now, once again alone, Taris took a moment to allow her mind to wash over the recent news. A sigh past her lips and she raised a trembling hand to her jaw where the bruise stretched across. Her eyes closed, as she took her other, ran it gently upon her pouting belly and whispered, "My child."

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Another day had drawn to its imminent end as night fell across Greece. King Menelaus made it to the neighboring kingdom of Pylos by the time the first star had graced the clear black sky. Welcomed with a prodigious reception, he now sat amongst utter luxury within the grandiose dining hall of the city's palace.

King Dmitri of Pylos and his wife, Queen Jocasta, were most gracious hosts, and had thus planned together an exquisite banquet most befitting the sovereign of the once mighty Sparta. Royal bodies sat upon cushions and carpets, a tradition most notably seen in Persia, but one that had been adopted specifically for this night. The regal House of Pylos always had an adoration for theme and culture.

This evening was no different.

Fabrics of all ilks graced the stone walls in colors of magenta, indigo, and silver. Delicate and looming, the night's gentle caress prompted them to dance as a gentle wind poured through open windows. Torches hung against every wall and in great number, illuminating the entire room. There were so many, that they served to play tricks on the eyes, fooling them to think it was day.

The pleasant hum of nobility, magistrates, and others of wealth graced the room while a small group of musicians played a most alluring tune. Complimenting the decor, the song was that of Persian melodic rhythm. The tune carried on through the talk and laughter to the ears of all in attendance and made for a cheerful backdrop to the atmosphere.

King Menelaus sat amongst the pillows, sitting side-by-side with the hosts atop a risen block of pure marble which stretched out like a stage. A small table, much like the ones afforded the guests below, sat before them. It was covered with the finest cuisines acquired through barter with those of the Middle East. Flat bread, rolled grape leaves stuffed with rice and lamb, dates and baklava, saturated in honey, sat upon plates of embossed metal. The wine, however, had been imported from the Island of Rhodes and what a fragrant liquid it was indeed.

The King of Sparta indulged his taste buds with the intoxicating liquid. Between his fingers was a rolled grape leaf. He took a bite and again, washed it down with the wine. A satisfied smile crossed his thin lips. He surveyed the room, the sounds and sights and, in a way, he was quite jealous of Pylos' splendor.

These were not warring people. No, these were people who enjoyed the pleasures of peace in abundance. He held the ideal that beings such as this did not deserve the grandeur they were afforded. Soldiers and champions... they were the ones who held the esteemed right to such things in Menelaus' mind. He'd see to it that Sparta would not only reclaim their former glory, but their warring heart as well.

But, still he sat, platitudes and smiles dripping off from his tongue with each gesture and comment made. Even the queen herself made the old man jealous, for she and her husband Dmitri seemed most content with one another as they giggled at each other's jocular quips. Jocasta was quite a beauty. Her laugh trickled out from reddened lips, her deep brown eyes twinkling in unison with the lit torches.

Yes, the royal couple of Pylos were indeed a handsome pair. Both were fitted with most impressive crowns atop their matching black hair, and each wore blue chitons fixed with silver threading and jeweled clasps.

Menelaus set down the grape leaf and picked up a small piece of baklava. He popped it into his mouth and, licking the honey from the tips of his fingers, he reached for a cloth.

"I'm honored by this banquet," the old man stated, wiping his mouth.

King Dmitri, much younger in years, laughed. "Tis our pleasure to present it to you. My wife and I simply adore finding excuses to throw such parties."

Jocasta playfully slapped her husband on the arm. "Yes, indeed we do. Tell me, Menelaus, I realize the important matters of our bartering agreement will be discussed at length tomorrow, but are you satisfied with the first proposal? If you are, those goods can be sent first thing in the morn to Sparta."

The old man nodded. "Yes, two wagons filled to the brim with Pylos' wheat in exchange for a wagon filled with Spartan fabrics and linen. Quite the fair trade, and I am most pleased with it. By all means, send those goods in the morn if it's no bother. I'll send a letter of notification for Sparta's end of the agreement to be sent post haste."

"Excellent," Dmitri replied while rubbing a hand upon Jocasta's bent knee. The King of Pylos grinned as a conservatively dressed servant made her way up the marble steps of the platform carrying a tray of more sumptuous desserts. "Ah yes, here she comes now with the reinforcements."

Queen Jocasta laughed, patting her husband about the waist. "That's Dmitri for you-- A sugar tooth like no other in all of Greece, but still as fit as the most well conditioned soldier."

Menelaus had not heard the joke for he was quite taken by the beauty who was now ascending the steps toward their table. Her off-white chiton was wrapped and pleated about her waist and hung near to the floor. Black tresses of kinky hair fell about her face accentuating pouty, pink lips. Her eyes, which held his stare as she placed the tray upon the table, were the most dazzling hazel. Black brows arched as she looked toward the King of Sparta, raising the pitcher of wine.

"More drink, sir?"

He raised his goblet as the wine spilled out into its awaiting depths.

Pulling the old man from his thoughts, King Dmitri tapped him on the shoulder. "So, the word is you're in pursuit of war himself."

Menelaus stuttered briefly as the words processed in his mind, "Huh? OH, yes.." He scowled as he emptied the newly refreshed goblet and slammed it down on the table. "Ares... My judgment has been passed down in the matter. He's accountable for every past war in my opinion and is now nothing more than a criminal on the run. I'll bring him to justice."

Jocasta wrapped her arms around Dmitri, placing her chin upon his shoulder. "How did he escape?"

"Ever hear of Xena?"

She smirked. "The Warrior Princess, Menelaus?"

"Yes...She crashed the party so to speak."

The servant girl nearly tipped over the pitcher after filling Jocasta's glass, but regained her composure, and drew her hands to her face. "Excuse me for my intrusion, but did I just hear you correctly? Xena?"

Menelaus ran a hand over the neatly trimmed beard at his chin and cast a sideways glance to Dmitri. Whispering, he asked, "What's this girl's name?"

The King of Pylos let a small chuckle escape his lips. "I'm not quite sure. She's new. Came in from Argos with the last trade agreement our people made with them."

Jocasta interrupted, "I do believe her name is, Cassia."

With a raise of his brow, Menelaus looked toward the girl, folded his hands upon the table and cocked his head. "Yes, Xena. Why do you ask young lady?"

Cassia twirled a long, black lock of hair about her finger. With an almost excited expression on her face, she explained, "The scrolls of Gabrielle--the Bard of Poteidaia, are legendary. My father once acquired one and would read it to me every night. Are they really in this area?"

Leaning back, Menelaus smirked. "Well, I saw no bard of which you speak, but as for Xena, yes-yes she is. You perplex me girl. Ares of Olympus runs from my grasp, yet you seem more intrigued with these minor characters."

Cassia looked about the table. The King and Queen of Pylos looked on expectantly, prompting her to continue. She shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips together. "I dunno. I grew up wanting to be like her...so many things she saw and did. Her hope for humanity was incredible, and she was such a prolific writer. Did you know that at one time she was an Amazon queen?"

Dmitri shook his head and raised a hand up toward the girl. "My apologies, Menelaus. Normally, our servants aren't so free of tongue."

"No, no. Tis alright." He shifted. "So, you say this bard was an Amazon?"

"Yes, she was. But if the stories I heard are true, she left it behind to explore the world with her best-friend."

"And would that best-friend be Xena," he asked, leadingly.

Nodding she answered, "Yes, so bound in friendship. The warrior and the bard. Again, the tales are legendary."

Menelaus ran a ringer around the rim of his goblet and smiled. "My dear girl, if all goes as planned, those tales will end with a legendary twist as well."

Not fully understanding what the old king meant, Cassia's brow rose. Parting her lips, she abruptly shifted her gaze to Queen Jocasta and King Dmitri. "May I go now?"

"Yes, more tables await their refills and desserts," the sovereign replied.

Cassia bowed and began to walk away, casting a glance at Menelaus as she departed.

The old man seemed rather amused. He leaned back toward Dmitri and with a playful smile inquired what was on his mind. "The girl. Willing to trade for her?"

The King of Pylos tilted his head and popped a date into his mouth. He chewed on it thoughtfully as eyes lowered upon the pendant that hung from Menelaus' neck. Pointing to it, he swallowed and answered, "Well...I think something could be arranged."

"Yes, who designed that? I noticed it when you first came in today. Excellent craftsmanship. I'm sure it's worth a pretty dinar...or pretty servant," Jocasta chimed in as she sipped wine from her goblet.

The old man clutched the item in his hand and shook his head. "I'm truly sorry, but this item is dear to me. Sentimental, I'm sure you'll understand." Seeing his hosts' faces grow disinterested, Menelaus tugged at the grandest ring of all he wore. He raised the sapphire to their eyes and smiled. "But this, this is something that I'm sure will more than cover your loss."

Dmitri took the ring between his fingers and raised a brow. "This is your wedding ring, is it not?"

"Eh, yes, but my dear wife, Taris, was not the one who selected it. Our wedding of long ago was completely handled by the magistrates at the time and she's never been fond of this being the symbol of our union." Menelaus knew that what he'd just stated was a complete lie, but, to serve his own purposes, did not care.

Dmitri turned to Jocasta and trailed a finger down her face. "My dear Queen, are you satisfied with this?"

Her deep brown eyes raked over the spectacular sapphire and intricate band. She grinned deeply. "Consider it done. Cassia can set out to Sparta along with the wagons of wheat in the morning."

"Wonderful," Menelaus drunk deep of his goblet and continued, "she says she's always been fond of stories about the Warrior Princess. Well, she won't want to miss the climatic conclusion of this one."

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