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| Judgment By Something Royal | ||
Webmaster Note: To make this story load a little easier in your browser, it was split into several web pages. This page contains Part 3 of "Judgment" by Something Royal. Part 1 is HERE.
Judgment (Part 3) Webmaster Note: To make this story load a little easier in your browser, it was split into several web pages. This page contains Part 3 of "Judgment" by Something Royal. Part 1 is HERE. The flame of a lit torch contorted and waltzed to a silent melody. Shadow served as its dance partner. Light and dark cascaded over the length of the walls, to the floor, and across every item their reach would extend in their battle for supremacy. The oil saturated cloth tip of the torch emitted a soft cracking sound as the fire continued to lap at it. Save only for the flame's whisper, all was silent. Beyond the fire's illuminating touch, Xena sat in the dark recesses. Completely motionless, her back rested against the cool earthen wall while her legs remained curled upon the cot on which she sat. Blue eyes pierced through from under her lashes, fixated on the burning torch. It was as if it was aware, a conscious entity, and she found she could not pull her stare away. Through the undulating waves of searing heat, she saw more. The flickering fire shed light on the dusty air. It was reminiscent of the promenading ashes of burning cities--cities that a once ruthless warrioress had set ablaze. She saw herself, that Xena of long ago, riding mercilessly on a destructive warpath through Greece. It spiraled on. The red heat gave way to waves of white--like the crackling sparks of clashing swords. She remembered it all--the cheers of legions, the screams of innocents. All of these things, these dissonant sounds and dizzying images, flooded her mind. Xena closed her eyes, willing them away. Her attempt did nothing but intensify the sensations. Things, long since past, were now at the forefront of her mind. She remembered further back, back to when she stood on foreign soil. The warrioress was not so heroic then. On the contrary, she was a monster, a destroyer. She did things then that she could not begin to justify... because they had no justification at all. One of those atrocities stood out amongst them all as the worst. She could still feel heat against her skin, see the dark clouds of billowing smoke, hear the cacophony of cries, smell the scent of burning flesh- No, she silently gasped, you can't change the past! Xena's eyes flickered open. They were wet, the lashes in disarray, yet no tears actually fell. They just sat and welled, but did not dare pass the brims. She didn't know how long she'd been transfixed by haunting memories of her warlord past. Turning her head from the torch, her eyes fell to the chakram at her side. Just as she, it was forever changed from its original state. But, unlike her, it was no longer just a half, it was whole. It was balanced. Xena idly ran a finger along the smooth surface. It was cool to the touch, but she remembered when the weapon, in its most simplistic form, felt as though it would scorch her hand with each malicious release. The recollections crashed down again. Oh, she remembered that night so many seasons ago when she first moved to touch it. A gift bestowed to this marching conqueror from none other than war itself. Ares. So different it was now. Again, it was finally balanced. Where Ares had afforded one half, she herself had found the other. It was beautiful, yet deadly, just as the being who wielded it. It's strength had wrought many things in the past, but now it was used in her fight for the greater good. Almost. The painful memories of the night the Olympian pantheon had fallen flooded her mind. It was night that Xena had nearly killed her dearest friend. She could still hear the grotesque sound that the chakram made when it struck. She could still feel the burning heat that dripped from it as it returned to hand. Xena never thought she could ever do such a thing to someone who had been there for her all along, but so it happened. She had succumbed to a blinding rage. How Gabrielle had found it in her heart to forgive her, Xena didn't know. The bard had such an innocence, something that the warrioress had long since seen fizzle out. They both had forged a friendship that would forever be, but the path they walked on forked off long ago. And that night, Xena had nearly stopped the bard from setting foot in front of foot ever again. She knew that this world held many surprises, that help often came from the most unlikely places. Never did Xena think, however, that her greatest adversary would erase the most vengeful thing she'd ever done since being on the road to redemption and in the process, save her life and her friendship. Now, all these memories collided into one masterful tapestry of angst, rage, regret and redemption... the nights of mishap and adventure, brutality and peace. She looked to Ares and remembered this evening, awash in blue moonlight. This was a night of solace and revelation. Her eyes raked over his sleeping form on the cot nearby. He made not a sound, but the rise and fall of his chest traversed the wall in shadowed ascent. She found the sight comforting in a way. It was natural. Xena shifted slightly. The cot creaked in unison. As ironic as it was, she missed Ares' cocky bravado and sinister grin. Though, at the same time, she found that the man under it all truly had the capacity to feel. It was a welcomed discovery. Who would have suspected, that after years of trying to reclaim her sword...war would succumb to the warrior? Slowly rising from the cot, Xena's eyes fell to look at his face. She quietly made her way toward him and crouched down beside him. She sat there a long time, watching shadows lap at his face and listening to the hushed whisper of his breath. Her head tilted to the side. Her hair spilled over her armored shoulders and she extended a hand. With nothing more than the pressure of a feather, the backs of her fingers graced the side of his face. They came to a halt upon finding a single grey hair at his temple. She pulled her hand away and again, being as quiet as possible, stood. She peered down at him a moment longer, making sure she hadn't disturbed him, before turning toward the table. There, she picked up her water skin and took a sip. Emotions were running rampant inside. I hold so much inside for fear of being seen as weak.. Those words he'd spoken earlier rang true for her as well. Xena started to walk back toward her own cot, when she heard the sound of creaking hinges coming from the corridor. Just to be sure, she grabbed her sword from the scabbard propped against the wall, and stood waiting at the entrance to the room. The sound of one pair of footsteps, accompanied by the sound of thudding, made for enough reassurance that she lowered her weapon. Xena knew it was Gabrielle, staff in hand. She put her sword back down and rounded the corner to greet her friend. Xena smiled and whispered, "Welcome back. How did it go?" Gabrielle leaned her staff against the wall. Taking a cue from Xena, she too whispered. "Well, let me first say that the Spartan guards are less than respectful, but I made it in." "Actually, hold that thought. I should wake Ares up. It is his neck on the line." She stepped back into the room and leaned over the ex-Olympian. Xena grabbed him about the arm and gently shook. "Hey, wake up." Ares woke and slowly . He blinked a few times before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's the word," he questioningly mumbled. "She just got back." The cot creaked as Ares moved his feet to the ground. He looked at Xena and cocked a brow. "What were you doing while you waited?" "Uh, I just sat around," she replied, a bit shaken. "That must have been boring." Xena looked away, running her hand up the length of her arm to scratch at an itch that didn't exist. "Yeah.." She gazed out toward the hall. "Ok, Gabrielle, get in here and tell us what happened." Stepping into the room, the bard untied the cloak from about her neck and discarded it on top of the table. She also slid the satchel from her shoulder, but maintained her own water skin and took a sip from it. "Nikolaus will be there tomorrow at dawn." Ares' eyes widened. "He's willing to help??" "Yup, but that's not all." "What do you mean," Xena asked. "Well, seems as though the Queen of Sparta herself wants to help as well.. She'll be there in the morning with Nikolaus." Raising a hand, Xena shifted. "Whoa...The queen?" She looked over toward Ares and noted that he looked just as shocked. "Why would she want to help?" Gabrielle took a seat on top of the table. "She wants our help in return, Xena. She doesn't think Menelaus is fit to rule-" "Good. At least she realizes that." "But there's more.. Seems as though she is pregnant with," Gabrielle looked from face to face before concluding, "Nikolaus' child." Xena shook her head as it now all made perfect sense. "Well isn't that something....I don't know how I could possibly help her, but I'm willing to listen if she has any ideas." "Wouldn't be the first time you saved a woman from that old bastard, Xena" Ares jested as he flashed his dimples. The warrioress was completely taken aback. Xena lowered a brow and stared at him, a smile playing on her face. "Did you just laugh?" He, too, brought his brows to a point and began to bob his head. "Yeah..yeah I guess I did... I suppose good news will do that." "Yes, it works wonders." The both exchanged a subtle nod of the head before she turned her attention back to Gabrielle. There was another important question to be asked. "Speaking of Menelaus...did you find out what he's up to?" "Well, Menelaus is out of the area until the day after tomorrow. He's in Pylos bartering." Xena's eyes twinkled upon hearing the news. "Excellent." She looked from face to face and grinned. "Alright, let's get some rest. Looks like tomorrow will be a rather big day." **************************** The night had been less than comforting. Together, she and Nikolaus had debated on just what to do in respect to the present conflict. It resulted in her agreement to keep a low profile, while truthfully, she had no intention of doing so. Toward the hours of twilight, Taris had returned to her room within the palace. No, the time had come that she would take to hand the power of status she possessed. What little there was, anyway. If only the citizens knew what kind of man their leader truly was... Menelaus had many a plan in store for these common people, unbeknownst to them. The old man's plan to execute Ares was to be only the beginning. With such an endeavor to boast about, Menelaus' reputation as a conqueror would be reestablished. Many nights he had moaned about the loss of his imposing stature and how he desperately longed to do something that was thought impossible so his name would be etched into the scrolls of history. The people would utter his name in awe-- he would be known as the man who dispatched war itself. But what they didn't know, was that Menelaus had plans to be its successor, enforcing his own idealistic and greedy resolve. The peaceful ways which the Spartans had become so accustomed to would be nothing more than inklings of a weak past--a past that their leader burned to erase. Where a pitch fork was gripped in hand, a sword would replace it. Where children gleefully played in innocent games of chase, would stand a strict edict enforcing their military scholastics. The ways of philosophy and art would give out to the burdens of battle strategics and weapons forging. Sparta would become a land built on the foundation of megalomanic conquest. She could no longer standby and be silent while those undeserving of Menelaus' wrath fell. She would no longer serve as a showpiece that was just as easily discarded as it was presented. What she would do would not only be for her own retribution, but for the love of her dear Nikolaus and the future of their unborn child. Now, within her room, she quickly rummaged through her chests. Digging through layer after layer of chitons, gowns and other apparel, she inwardly cussed, unable to find what she needed. She stood up and raised a brow as new plan of action came to mind. Her finger nervously tapped about the corner of her lips, till finally she hurriedly made her way to the door and out into the dark hall. **************************** "Ugh, I know it has to be here somewhere," Cassia spat under her breath in frustration. A candle in hand, she traversed the blackened depths of the hall outside of the servants' quarters. Back and forth she walked, the tiny flame offering little help. The sounds of her treading bare feet produced a hushed echo as she continued her search. The length of her blue nightgown skimmed across the cool stone floor. She raised a hand to her head and pushed back her black hair--it had fallen across her shoulders due to being hunched over and was encumbering the search. A look of sheer frustration masked her delicate features for she was at a loss. Earlier that day, she'd dropped the contents of her satchel. She had thought that she had successfully repacked the sack, but one item was missing. It was an item that she couldn't stand to lose--the scroll from which she'd drawn such strength. Cassia figured it still had to be somewhere in the length of the corridor. A diligent search had not yet produced any findings. By this time, she was nearing tears---it was the only thing she had left that was given to her by her father. She stood straight up and let a desolate sigh pass her lips. Turning back toward the servants' quarters, she took sullen steps. Her side skimmed the wall, a hand ran along the rough stone and it was then, that under foot, she felt the undeniable feel of velvet. Her mouth opened and a look of relief came across her face as she stepped back and peered down. Extending the candle toward the ground, she smiled deep. There, finally, was what she was looking for. She picked the pouch up and brought it to her chest. From her lips came a sigh echoing her facial expression. "Thank goodness." She took another small step backwards and nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt a warm body behind her. Cassia spun around. She was worried, thinking she had been caught meandering about the palace without permission. The candle gripped firmly in her hand exposed the person before her. She had briefly seen this woman earlier in the day when doing her first day of chores. The young girl's head immediately bowed as she mumbled some apologies. "Queen Taris, I am so sorry." "It's alright. You're the new girl, correct," she asked in a hushed whisper. "Yes, I am. I only came to find-" Taris raised a silencing hand. "No explanation is needed." The queen's brows lowered in thought. Could she trust this girl? All answers pointed to yes. She was new and not wise to protocol. She'd most assuredly follow orders no matter what they would be. Taris placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned closer. "I need you to help me." Confused by the request, Cassia merely titled her head. "Well of course, my queen. What is it that you need me to do?" "Go into the servants' quarters. Get dressed and bring me some clothes as well, but hurry and make no mention of this to anyone." This was truly an odd request, but Cassia thought it better not to question. "Yes, right away. Will you be here?" Taris looked behind her warily before answering. "Yes. Now please, hurry." "Of course." She hopped backwards and made a dash for the servants' quarters. Her form was enveloped in the dark recesses. The dim candle served as the only method of tracking her steps. The queen leaned against the wall and breathed out in anxiety. Her hands ran down to her belly and caressed. "What I do, I do not only for your father and yourself, but for the good of Sparta." Taris ran her hands back up and released her long brown locks from their clasp. The tresses spilled downward as she mussed them. Again, a sharp breath caught in her throat. Her eyes closed as she brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed them in a circular motion. It was an attempt to ease the fear that she could feel being to brew inside her--a fear that she simply could not allow to come to fruition. She looked around nervously, but saw nothing but black. Not a noise could be heard. Morning would come soon, however. She'd left Nikolaus mere hours ago. As much as he wanted justice brought to Sparta, he wasn't prepared to lose Taris. She, on the other hand, was no longer gripped by fear--though she felt it. She was being driven by necessity. Her fingers tapped against the wall and finally, after a few more minutes had past, she heard the faint sound of footfall. Her eyes peered down the length of the hall and she saw the small dancing glow of a burning candle. The corners of her mouth shakily turned up as Cassia came to stand beside her. "I didn't know which clothes to bring and I, sadly, can't offer you anything more than these humble things. Did I do right?" Cassia handed her the items and looked expectantly for an answer. "Yes, you came through and did exactly what I needed, child." Much to Cassia's surprise, Taris began to strip right there in the hallway. Her gown was traded for a common brown cotton dress, which she threw on. Then, she reached for a cloak of the same color. The fabric itched at her skin, but this was no time to worry about finery. "I'm sorry, but what is this about?" Cassia was never one to mince words. The queen looked up as she adjusted the binding ties to the cloak and brought up the hood. "Can you ride?" "Yes..but-" Her fingers ran idly over the satchel on her shoulder. Taris grabbed her by the hand. "Good. Now, listen and listen carefully. I need to be somewhere before the sun rises. You're going to help me get there." Cassia glanced down at their clasped hands and cocked her head. "Well of course I'll do my duty, but what is it exactly you want me to do, your majesty?" Taris began to lead the servant down the hall. She quietly explained what would be expected. "For this journey, I am no longer your 'majesty'. Just pick a name and call me that-" Her mind flipped back to her old roommate from Pylos. "Is Andro alright?" The queen's eyes darted back and forth as they neared the servants' doorway that led in and out of the palace. "Yes, that's fine. But treat me like you would treat any of your own peers. That's the only way we'll make it out of here." "Whatever you say, your maj- er, Andro." "Good." Both women exited into the cool night's air. It gripped them both, but they stayed their course, heading to the stable where the work horses were kept. Taris lifted a hand and pushed the greyed wood door open. She cringed a bit as it creaked before the sound finally ebbed. The smell of hay filled their noses and now, the quiet nickers of the animals, mixed with the sound of straw under foot, made the only noises. Taris pointed to a small, yet sturdy, grey gelding. He stood in his stall, happily chewing on his night's ration of hay. A saddle and bridle sat in the aisle. Cassia knew by the direction that she was expected to saddle the animal. She did so expertly and as quick as possible. Just as she was about to lead the animal from the stall, the other horses began to neigh. Taris again cringed. She looked wildly around, but saw nothing. All seemed safe until, just moments later, she heard the door creak. The queen spun around and sat upon a bale of hay and pulled the hood tighter against her head as she lowered it. Cassia gulped. "Just remember what I told you girl. Make something up if you need to," Taris whispered. A guard stepped out of the dark. His sword was drawn and a look of curiosity was written on his face. "What are you two doing here??" She was almost tempted to swallow back, but quick thinking impeded what would have been a clue of her insecurity. "The queen asked that myself and.. Andro here.. go report to work in the fields, sir." He looked back and forth from the two women and sucked on his lip. "This time of night?" Cassia nodded. "Yes. We're both new here, so of course we get the grunt work. The queen thought it best we go as early as possible. She couldn't rest well.. knowing that the temperature had suddenly dropped. Queen Taris was worried about what it would do to the produce. Sparta has already suffered a drought and lost most of its wheat supply so, she didn't want to take any chances with the vegetables and fruits." The guard's brows lowered as he digested the information. Cassia could see that he was debating whether or not this was an acceptable answer. "Does your friend here not speak?" "I just woke her up. She's extremely tired and not feeling well." Taris offered a mock cough. Again the guard's expression changed to one of contemplation. Slowly, he began to lower his sword and finally, placed it back in his scabbard and nodded. He started to walk away and for a moment, Cassia breathed a sigh of relief in unison with the queen's own. It was a moment that was shortly cut off, however, as the guard hurriedly walked back. "Juuuuust a minute," he ordered. "Y-yes?" Cassia was almost sure they were caught. One of his hands firmly gripped the hilt of his sword. The man's eyes raked over both women and with a drawn out motion, he rolled his tongue about in his mouth. "Don't forget to put that out." Her brows lowered. She was confused. "What?" Exasperated, he pointed toward the top of the wooden stall gate and bobbed his finger. "That! The candle. What do you want to do? Burn the whole royal stable down??" Cassia drew in a deep breath. " Oh..the candle. Of course. I'm sorry." The guard rolled his eyes. "Yeah...just do as I told ya." She bowed her head. "Yes." Again, he rolled his eyes and departed into the dark. This time, he did not come back. Taris quickly stood -- now that the coast was indeed clear. She grasped the base of the candle to keep it from moving as she opened the stall gate. Cassia led the gelding out by the reins and looked back toward her companion. The queen extended her hand, signaling the girl to lead the horse out of the barn, which she obeyed, but not before diffusing the candle's flame with nothing more than a shaky breath. Outside, that guard was nowhere to be seen. He had probably been making various rounds of the courtyard area when he heard the horses begin to neigh. The twilight hours were definitely in tow for the black of night was gradually dispersing while velvet shades of blue took over. "Alright, hold him steady while I mount." The queen looked around while running a hand down the animal's neck. Satisfied they were alone, she carefully lifted a foot to the stirrup and pulled herself up. The horse gently nickered. "Ok, now you." Cassia threw the reins over the animal's head, drew up the slack, and mounted as well. She took her seat in front of Taris and gently urged the horse forward. Looking back as they neared Sparta's gates, she whispered, "Where are we going?" "The Eurotas River." "Why," Cassia further questioned. She figured that if she was doing something that required such cloak and dagger work, she was entitled to know what she was getting herself into. Taris gazed up at the moon and gave an answer. "To stop a travesty." **************************** In the still hours just before dawn, Phazon adjusted his armored chest plate. Satisfied that the item was held fast in place, he checked the checked to make sure his saddle was secure. He noted that it was a bit loose. As he tightened the girth, the large dark horse tried to nip. This action was repaid with a swat to the nose. The animal jerked its head up and pawed the ground. Phazon ignored the indignation, grabbed the reins, raised a foot to the stirrup and threw a leg over the saddle. All seemed right. He had no knowledge of any possible problems. He hadn't noticed a missing horse from the royal stable. No, Phazon was quite assured that the morning would be a complete success. Everything seemed in place. The morning was still dark, but the lit torches that lined Sparta's walls were reflected off of the armored troop before him. The men stood motionless and at attention. Green crests, which stemmed from the top of their helmets, swayed with the morning breeze while frosty breath fell from their mouths. They looked incredibly imposing and ready to carry out whatever was asked. Phazon prompted his horse to walk down the line, raising a clenched fist, and addressed the soldiers. "Today's the day, men! The day we recapture Ares to bring him to justice!!" "What of Xena," a man questioned, keeping his eyes forward in military stance. Phazon looked the line over and answered. "Our main concern is Ares and he alone. All other considerations are secondary! I'm not about to lose a single soldier unnecessarily." He paused and ran a hand across his beard as he justified that comment to himself. Menelaus would be none too pleased to learn that after accomplishing our goal, our vanity got in the way of sensibility. Phazon's beady eyes refocused on the troop before him. "You are the elite of Sparta...so, let's show Ares what that truly means!" The men took their swords from their scabbards and raised them skyward. In an almost melodic way, they cheered in unison. **************************** Dawn was drawing ever closer. Dark blue hues coalesced with those of lavender and pink. Stars, which had so prominently graced the night sky, began their descent with the silver glow of the moon. Together, they gave way to the impending ascent of the sun. Crickets, not yet tired from their night's refrain, continued to orchestrate their songs. Birds of prey returned to their nests, the night's hunt having been efficacious. Now, smaller feather-clad animals made their way to the sky, all the while chirping in honor of the dawn. Dew sat upon tender shards of grass. Drops loomed on bended tips, dampening leather boots which dared to tread. The chill embraced one and all like a long lost love. Goosebumps rose on exposed flesh. Regardless, it was a morning that gave way to serenity. The Eurotas River flowed strongly, licking the banks. The water was crystal clear even in the darkening shroud of twilight. It raced over the rocks below, glimmering with the soft pastel hues that began to rise in procession with the sun. Two horses happily grazed on lush foliage. Their reins were secured to low extending branches of nearby trees. Both swished their tails about as flies annoyingly landed on them. The action was sporadically accompanied by a kick of a rear leg as they tried to keep the pesky insects at bay. Ares gazed upon the sight. A look of relief mixed with weariness crossed his masculine face. Today would be the day that, perhaps, he'd regain his freedom. His hand idly sat upon the hilt of a sheathed sword--a weapon he'd taken from the many stashed away in the shelter not far from where he now stood. Xena also gazed on, but not at the river. Her eyes were locked on the man beside her. She took in the sight of a mortal man who no longer seemed so arrogant and ruthless-- man who, now, seemed to exude sincere emotion in every gesture and expression. Each breath he made met the chill, forming a rising cloud of condensed air. Yet, he didn't seemed bothered by it. She, however, pursed her lips and ran her hands over her arms, trying to shun away the cold. The bard was absent of the scene. She had gone, by Xena's request, to scout just far enough ahead to alert them when company was about to arrive. Clutching her hands in loosened fists, Xena brought them to her lips and breathed hot air into them. It wasn't often that the cold got to her. Rubbing her hands against one another, she bit her lip before she spoke. "Aren't you cold?" Ares faced her and slowly shook his head. "Actually, no." "If it was any colder, no armor in the world would be able to conceal-" Xena stopped short of her joke as she looked down at her chest. "Anyway, it should heat up soon. The sun will be up in a short time." He smiled deeply. He always could appreciate Xena's sense of humor. The fact that she stopped short of her joke made him inwardly laugh. He pressed his lips together and gazed up at the sky. "You know..I never really appreciated the dawning of a new day." She took a step next to him, all the while keeping her arms crossed to keep any heat from being released. "I never really thought about it either. But, somewhere along the line that changed for me." He looked at her, silently urging her to go on. She did. "It was symbolic in a way...proof that all things have the capacity to start anew I guess." Another trail of icy breath fell from his lips. "All things? Even me?" She looked him in the eye and nodded. "Even you." He took a few steps backward and leaned against a tree that stood at the bank of the river. The leaves danced on the retreating wind and more defined shadows began to filter through them as the sun started to peak behind the imposing Mount Parnon in the distance. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the trunk. The smell of damp wood filled his nose as he closed his eyes and breathed it in. "Thank you, Xena." "For what exactly?" "For standing by me through this ordeal. You know you didn't need to and there was a time not that long ago, that I think you'd just assume leave me to hang. I can't exactly blame you though." Xena pursed her lips and lowered her head, taking hesitant steps toward him. "Actually, I don't think I could." She too, leaned against the tree. He shifted a bit and grimaced slightly. The bracing oil that he had applied earlier that morning only eased the pain so much. The ex-Olympian turned his head to regard her. Xena's black hair swept across her face as she gazed up at the sky. She looked so serene, so at peace. Ares wondered what that felt like. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Do you think you'll ever find it in your heart to forgive me," he whispered. Her head slowly turned. Staring at him, she took in the sincere expression on his face. After all the years of seeing this being as an adversary...after all the years of opposing what he stood for, the things he'd done, and the pain he'd caused...he was now asking to be absolved of them. She was silent. She was reminded. Recollections of her own malicious past swam over her. She too, was not exempt of heartbreak. She had been the Destroyer of Nations, a warlord. Even on her path to redemption, she'd stumbled horribly along the way. Yet, people she'd horrendously crossed had found it within them to forgive her ruthless transgressions. Her family, friends, even strangers that had lost family to her sword found something redeemable about her. Gabrielle still stood by her side, bound in friendship. Even though she had almost fallen prey to the warrioress' rage, the bard refused to relinquish trust to hate. Now, Xena was being asked to do the same. Could she? Could she grant Ares the same amnesty that she had been afforded? She didn't know what to say. After all the years of being enemies, she never considered that he would ask this of her. There was a time long ago when she would have done just about anything for him--a time which had been pushed back to the deepest recesses of her mind. Xena closed her eyes and moved to speak, but the words were diffused before they even reached fruition. The sound of quick foot fall upon scattered twigs and leaves broke the silence. "Xena!!" She turned around to see Gabrielle making her way through overgrown brush. "They here," she asked as her friend drew closer. "Yea, it's still fairly dark, but I saw a horse with two riders. I didn't see any weapons." Xena briefly glanced at Ares whose face still held an inquisitive expression. The look on her own face was almost apologetic. She tore her eyes away and moved from her spot on the tree. Ares watched as she walked toward the bank of the Eurotas. He wondered if she would ever answer the question, if there would always be something or someone to interrupt. That's what always seemed to happen and now, like so many times before, the moment had passed. The Warrior Princess was all business now. Adjusting the gauntlets on her arms, she bobbed her head. "Alright. Looks like this will all be over soon. How far off were they?" "Uh, I would say that they'll be here any second," Gabrielle replied, leaning on her staff and glaring at the sais strapped on her boots. "Don't ever say I don't carry enough weapons," she mumbled under her breath. Xena stretched and looked at Ares. "It's almost over." He meekly nodded. Question is, where does one go from here? It was then that the horses lifted their heads. Their mouths stuffed with grass, they stopped chewing and neighed in unison. The grey gelding that carried both Taris and Cassia expressed its greetings as well as they entered the area. The latter brought their mount to a halt. Taris hadn't told her who they were meeting up with, but upon seeing the trio, her hazel eyes opened wide. Two of them were obviously warriors, but the third...the third leaned on her staff and offered a smile. Cassia had finally come into contact with the person she had thought of as a legendary hero in her own right. She sat still as she digested this. Taris, on the other hand, immediately slid from the horse's back. She pulled up the length of the brown cotton dress she wore and diligently made her way toward Xena. The warrioress extended her arm and a welcome as well. "Queen Taris, I presume." She looked up at the girl who sat atop the grey and lowered a brow. "Where's Nikolaus?" The queen's eyes looked warily from side to side. She took a shaky breath and tightened her grasp Xena's hand. "You need to get out of here." Ares moved from the tree and quickly made his way to the women. He cast a curious glance at Cassia. She looked familiar, like he knew here from somewhere, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. "What's going on??" "Phazon knows...you must get out of here now," Taris desperately pleaded. Gabrielle raised a hand in question. "Did he see you??" She wildly shook her head. "No, I don't think so. We took an alternate route here, but you must believe me. He's on his way!" Before anyone could even take a breath, the horses began to neigh excitedly again. Their calls were echoed back in great number. A large flock of birds took to dizzying flight from the trees beyond. All eyes looked toward the distant hillside and there, coming out of the dark, as if out of nowhere, was nearly thirty armored Spartans on horseback heading their way. The charging animals snorted. Their nostrils were wide, taking in the wind they raced against. Manes and tails sailed like silk banners. Ruts of dirt and grass took flight as they were kicked high off the horses' hooves. Taris ran back toward the grey and with Cassia's assistance climbed aboard. Xena's eyes never left the sight of the impending men. They were coming at a tremendous speed and were in a strategic semi-circle convoy. She gripped Ares about the arm and urged him to run with her. "On the horses now!!!!" Gabrielle dropped her staff and ran to untie her bay gelding. With a quick flip of the reins, she hastily hopped on. "Which way Xena!?!?!?" Xena and Ares hurriedly mounted as well. The warrioress held the reins tightly while her eyes darted back and forth. The way the Spartans were coming, they were surrounded. The only way out was to cross the broad Eurotas. She wrangled the horse around. The mare lifted her head, nervously pulling at the reins and side stepping. "Across the river!!!" She desperately pointed. Cassia kicked her mount into a gallop. The queen held onto her for support. Water splashed about the grey's forelegs as he leapt into the ice cold water. Both women teetered momentarily before the animal regained his footing and forced his way through the watery depths. "Hold on," Xena cried over her shoulder at Ares. He did so, wrapping his arms tightly about her leather clad waist. Any concept of cold that she had before was nothing but a mere memory as the nervous energy took hold. Her mare ran up along side Gabrielle's mount as both madly sprinted to the bank of the Eurotas. The mare launched herself forward in a tremendous, yet graceful, leap. The disturbed water splashed up furiously in retribution. It cascaded back down over both Xena and Ares, but the cold still did not register. Just a stride behind was the last of the group. In the uncertainty of the moment, Gabrielle didn't take into account that the depth perception of horses is slim to none. She urged her mount in an off-balanced dash for the river. Coming up on the bank's edge, the animal gazed downward, not grasping the relativity of depth and thus, wildly jumped in with flailing legs. The gelding's hooves slipped on the slick rocks beneath the water, sending him to his knees. Gabrielle was thrown backward and her head slammed on the bank's edge. No one had witnessed the fall. Taris and Cassia made it to the other side of the Eurotas. Their mount pawed the air in adrenaline induced excitement. It was then, that the gelding got up off his knees and raced out of the water riderless, passing by Xena's mare. The warrioress jerked her head backward and brought her to an abrupt halt. There was the bard, unconscious, her head just out of the water's reach on the bank. Xena felt of a wave of panic run through her and screamed, “Gabrielle!!!!!!!!!" With a forceful turn of the rein, her horse gracefully reared and spun around. Ares' grip tightened as the animal lunged forward again. Together, they raced back to the water's edge and just before reaching it, Xena slid off. Ares dismounted as well, taking hold of the mare's reins. Xena threw herself to her knees. The chilling water swam around her legs as she pulled at Gabrielle's arms. Her eyes were closed. She was out cold. This was a bad situation that had just gotten undeniably worse. Phazon and his men would be at the river's side soon. There was little time to think. She gulped back. She didn't know how bad the bard's injuries truly were and she could feel the panic start to hold her. It wasn't often that she froze in situations like these, but here she was, succumbing. Ares lunged forward and clutched Xena by the shoulder as he knelt in the water beside her. "C'mon! I'll help you!" She looked at him with widened eyes, her mouth ajar, and finally got a grip on the situation. She grabbed an arm, as did Ares and together, they pulled the bard from the water and managed to get her on the horse. The mare side-stepped as she felt the pressure fall horizontally across her back, but quickly subdued her antics as she became accustomed to it. The water rushed and swirled around the legs of both warriors. As she put her foot in the stirrup, Ares placed a steadying hand on Xena's back. They had to abscond immediately. The noises emanating from the Spartans were crystal clear--their clanging armor, their shouting and yelling. Each time the horses' hooves struck the ground, a thunderous sound slipped from between. The troop's arrival was imminent. Ares watched them draw closer and swallowed back. He knew what he had to do. "Go, Xena!" She pulled her foot from the stirrup and stepped back into the flowing water. Bewildered, she looked at him. "What?!!" Ares' nostrils flared as he again looked at the imposing troop closing in. "You heard me! Go! There's no way this horse is going to carry three and even if she could the Spartans would just hunt us down! I'll hold them back." She knew exactly what holding them back meant. It meant that he intended to give himself up. She roughly grabbed him by the shirt and shook her head violently. The wet black locks stuck to her face as she tried to pull him along. "Nooo! C'mon we can make it!" He knew there was no other way out of the situation. The guards were drawing ever closer. Even if he followed by foot, the Spartans would just track them down. It would be a slaughter. There was nowhere else to go. If he gave himself up... Xena would have a chance. Ares brought his hands about her wrists and looked her directly in the eye. He could see the desperation there. "You're not being practical! I'm not dragging you down with me! Now go before it's too late!!!!" She shook her head incredulously as she mouthed the word, 'no'. She stared up at him, and though he didn't say a word, the look on his face was enough to make her feel like she'd lost her capacity to breath. Those eyes told so much. She didn't want to accept that they were silently begging for her to leave. Xena tugged again, infuriated that he wouldn't listen to her... ...that he would let himself be captured again... ...that he was being so selfless.. ...that he was right and there was nothing she could do... Again, she pulled, this time out of frustration, but he merely backed up. "Go!" The warrioress looked helplessly from his serious face, to the oncoming men. She breathed out at a loss. "Ares.." Xena swallowed back the lump in her throat and threw her hands around his head, pulling his face down to meet hers. She could feel the sweet heat fall from his parted mouth and as a shuddering sigh ran through her chest, she pushed her lips to his in a sincere and emotionally charged kiss. Ares' fingers threaded through her wet hair and closed his eyes. They willed the rest of the world away and kissed as though it was the first time they had ever done so. In a way, it was. There was no agenda. There was no ulterior motive. There was only this moment and they took it--made it their own. They greedily clung to it, not daring to open their eyes or loosen their grips for fear of it slipping away. He could feel her tremble and so, he pressed her tightly against him, trying to deter the motion. Instead, Ares found himself overwhelmed by it. It was all so bittersweet...so unbearably bittersweet. Xena shuddered again and tore her lips away, only to bring them to his ear as she shakily whispered, "I do forgive you." She pulled back to stare deep into those dark eyes and felt something trail down her face. For a moment, she wondered if it was a drop of the Eurotas, but as it fell to her mouth Xena could taste the salt it was imbued with. Ares stood there, wondering if his ears had betrayed him. The truth was, he had heard correctly. He could feel his heart swell and the corners of his lips flickered in silent thanks. What she had just done meant more to him than he could put into words. She'd granted him her forgiveness, finally, after all these years. He took a breath, trying to suppress the unfamiliar feeling in his chest, and bowed his head. Maybe all things really did have the capacity to start anew... Upon exhaling, he looked back up and the glorious sensation he felt was stifled. The world wouldn't stop for him--not anymore. Phazon was mere yards away from the river. The necessity for speed resurfaced. Ares pulled Xena's hands away and, again, urged her to flee. "Xena, go...please...go!" She reluctantly looked toward the bank. The Spartans were almost there. Again, he was right, she had to go. Grabbing the slack of the reins, she threw herself up on her mare behind the unconscious bard. Xena looked at Ares. He stood there in the water, sopping wet, returning her stare. There was still so much to talk about. Time had slipped for both of them and now, there was only so much left. Yes, it always came down to time, didn't it? The horse was getting restless as the others approached. They had to go. Xena set her jaw. She was determined to steal one more moment--just one more. "I'll come for you- I swear it!" At that, the mare was urged into a sprint and as she raced through the Eurotas, it splashed under the force in a dazzling array. They disappeared just moments later behind the forest line of the opposite side of the river. Ares remained standing in the depths. She was gone and the cold, which he hadn't noticed before, finally began to sink in. The chilled water seeped into his boots and gripped at his toes. The cold morning wind brushed against his skin. His breath collided with the crisp air, flowing out in smoke-like wisps from his lips. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and turned to face the oncoming troop. He knew he was dreadfully out numbered, but drawing the weapon still felt necessary. Ares' mouth twitched as he waited, but sans that, he was completely immobile. Just a few feet from the bank, Phazon pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to a sliding halt. The armored soldiers did the same and now they lined the bank. All eyes fell on Ares, who still stood fast in the cold waters of the river. Phazon grinned with triumph and urged his mount slowly into the water. The animal's hot breath danced on the cold air as it drew oxygen deep into its tightened lungs. It almost looked like the horse would breathe fire at any moment. Steam seemed to trail off of the animal, and it chomped impatiently on the bit as Phazon brought it to a halt beside Ares. "Well, I don't think you'll be needing that," he chuckled, pointing to the sword. "That may be--but, I'm not going to just go with you willingly." The muscle of Ares' jaw flickered. He had a plan to keep the Spartans occupied while Xena gained more distance. He didn't want her followed. "Oh how completely noble...and ludicrous. You are sorely outnumbered." "That may be, but isn't it better to go down in battle, than to willingly be taken to slaughter?" Looking to the bank, Phazon rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "One of you go get him, will you?" As requested, a soldier dismounted from his horse. He pulled his sword from its scabbard as he walked into the Eurotas. Ares' muscles tensed, but he stood still, waiting for the opportunity to strike. The water splashed with each footstep and as he stepped close, Ares swung at him. "Put the sword down," the man warned, carefully circling the ex-Olympian. Ares smiled and simply answered, "No." "Have it your way!" The guard lunged at him in a frontal attack. Their swords crashed down upon one another in a shatter of sparking steel. The sound resonated and caused Phazon's horse squeal and back up as the two combatants went toe to toe. Clenching his teeth, Ares pushed the thought of pain to the back of his mind. He swung low at the guard's water immersed legs, only to once again meet the enemy's sword. He spun around and this time went for the neck. The soldier went to his knees and blocked the impending sword with the edge of his own and pushed it back. Though his boots were weighted with water, Ares lifted a leg from the river and kicked out. The impact landed on its mark, hitting the man square in the face and sending him flying back into the water. Raising a hand to his now broken nose, the Spartan wiped away the blood that flowed from it and grimaced with anger. He sprung from the water and, gripping his sword in both hands above his head, lunged forward. Phazon watched on as the two fought it out. He needed Ares alive. What good would he do otherwise? The whole premise was to execute him before the people of Sparta. Menelaus would surely be displeased if plans did not go accordingly. Still, the small man watched on silently from atop his mount. There was another shuddering clash. Ares could feel his muscles burn from the strain. Any weakness, any pain, they all were pushed down. It's amazing what one can do when there's a reason to stay strong. Focus was key. He was fighting for what was right, while this opponent was fighting for his salary. He jumped back and waited a beat. The Spartan guard came at him again. Taking the sword's hilt between two hands, the ex-Olympian turned around and forcefully kicked the guard in the chest. The impact sent the man under again. The water swelled as his opponent began to rise from the Eurotas. Ares' spun and forcefully swung the sword. It collided with the disoriented soldier's neck, severing his head from his body. "Enough of this," Phazon boomed. "Enough???" Ares was fuming, but each word was spoken with complete clarity. Beads of water dripped from the tip of his nose as his nostrils flickered in and out. The look on his face was one of complete disdain. He wasn't about to concede to fear. "I know very well that you need me alive. Either you swear to me that you'll leave Xena out of this, or I'll go down fighting." Phazon's brows lowered to a point. He was notably angry. Taking up the slack of his reins, he urged his mount back up onto the dry ground. The soldiers sat on their horses and waited for further orders. Their leader was still visibly frustrated. He recalled the speech he made earlier. They already managed to subdue what they'd sought. It would be vanity to go after the Warrior Princess at the risk of losing more men. They didn't know which way she'd gone and Menelaus would not be happy if another single elite soldier was lost. Phazon looked at Ares. He still stood in the cold waters of the Eurotas, seething. The councilman patronizingly smirked as he extended his chin. "Fine. You have my word." "Yeah...your word. Well, I have no reason to trust it, but then... there's nothing left to lose...is there?" Ares dropped the weapon. It sunk under the bloody water, just the same as his hopes for freedom.
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