Judgment (Part 4)
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 begins Part 4 of "Judgment" by Something Royal. Part 1 is HERE.

The crushing of leaves broke the silence, along with the dull thuds of horses' hooves as they hit the ground. With one hand steadying Gabrielle in front of her, the other gripped corded leather reins. Xena sporadically turned her head to look back, making sure they weren't being followed.

Just a few feet in front of her was Cassia and Queen Taris. Both women remained silent as the grey gelding leisurely plodded along the unbeaten path. The former stared back briefly. For so long, she'd lived vicariously through the bard's own exploits and now she found herself immersed in the latest.

The horses weaved in and out of the dense brush and mold laden trees. The sun had, by this time, completely risen. Warm rays cascaded down and what had been an extremely brisk twilight, was now a comfortable morning--at least for some.

Xena couldn't shake the chill. It'd been shrouding her since she was forced to leave Ares' side in the swirling waters of the Eurotas River. Even now, her black hair was still damp and clung to her armored shoulders. She closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath.

"How much further is it?"

Queen Taris looked back, her hands still clutching onto Cassia for support. "Just past that line of trees ahead, Xena."

The warrioress despondently nodded and continued to follow the grey's lead. Their destination was a deserted barn near the outskirts of Sparta's heart. At first, Xena was hesitant, but realized that, with Gabrielle unconscious, there was no way to get down the ridge and into the shelter. They needed another refuge and this was the only option the queen could offer.

Again, these mortals grew silent. Xena listened to the leather saddles creak as the horses moved beneath. Their footfall was almost soothing. Each step kept a rhythm and time. Her eyes loomed at the long grass, dense brush, and tree trunks as they proceeded. Shadows graced the ground in long, extended pools of bleakness.

"I think I see it." Cassia took the reins in one hand and raised another to point. Just a few yards away was what appeared to be a greyed roof. The rest of the structure was covered in vines that sprawled upward, as well as other growth that littered the ground beneath. She arched her head sideways to set her eyes on Taris. "Is that it?"

"Yes, it is."

Xena tightened her grip on the bard, clicked her tongue against her teeth and urged her mare alongside the other horse. She cast her eyes at Taris' hood covered head. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yes, no one ever goes there. I doubt Menelaus would even suspect you sheltering so close to the city. He probably doesn't even remember the barn is there." With every reference to her husband, a bitter tone rang in her royal throat.

Xena picked up on it, but only bobbed her head. "Alright. It looks like this is the only way."

They were now at the base of the large structure. Broken boards littered the ground. The foundation was made of stone and the wood was greyed from years of standing against the elements. Gaping holes could be seen in the roof and walls. A lone bird hopped atop the barn before flying away into a neighboring tree whose leaves blanketed the top.

The grass was patchy, giving way to large sections of barren ground. A cloud of dust billowed up from their feet as Cassia and Taris dismounted. Xena began to do the same, but stopped and beckoned for the young servant girl to assist her.

"What do you need me to do," she asked, already quite sure of what the answer would be.

Xena extended the reins. "Hold onto my horse while I dismount. I need to make sure Gabrielle doesn't fall off." Her tone was laden with worry while her eyes loomed on her unconscious friend.

"Of course." She took the reins in one  hand and put the other upon the mare's shoulder.

The warrioress kept a hand firm on Gabrielle's back while she slowly swung her leg over the saddle and to the ground. The second foot came down and her other hand went to the bard's side, carefully leveling her from the mount. As her body descended toward the ground, Xena could hear her friend softly mumble.

"Gabrielle?? Gabrielle, are you alright??" She looped the woman's loose hanging arm around her neck, keeping her upright with a hand on her waist. The bard's eyes slowly began to open. She mumbled again and Xena empathetically stared at her. "Shh. I gotcha. Try to walk with me."

Gabrielle swallowed back. She was still incoherent, but managed to weakly nod her head. The bard leaned her weight on the warrioress for support as they started forward.  As Xena pulled her along she cast a sideways glance at Cassia and tipped her head in thanks.

"Is she going to be ok?"

Still moving toward the barn, Xena wearily answered, "Yes. C'mon, bring the horses."

Cassia sucked on her bottom lip and urged the mare forward. The saddle creaked as the animal began to move. Taris took the gelding's reins in hand and lead him toward the barn as well.

Now, all four women stood at the entrance. The greyed wood was splintered. Large, weedy bushes clung to the paneling, sprawling upward under the glare of the warming orb held fast in the sky.

Xena let go of the arm that hung round her neck and pulled the door open. It eerily creaked as it came ajar. Spider webs loomed overhead. Dust danced visible to eye in rays of light which poured through the holes of the roof. Old hay and straw was crushed beneath the footfall, giving rise to more dust as the women entered, horses in tow.

The inside was quite large and had a second level--a loft. Ten old, slatted board stalls wasted away along the right wall. The wood was molded and littered with bird droppings. On the left side of the barn was rusted farming equipment. There were shovels, axes, plows and harnesses, all coated in thick dust. The air was itchy and the molded old hay and straw beneath their feet did not make it any more pleasant. Deserted nests sat in nooks on the rafters above. Spider webs clung to nearly everything.

Being the last to enter, Cassia closed the door behind her. It once again creaked, but oddly, the sound eased her mind. She secured the latch, turned around, and looked at Xena's armor adorned back. The warrioress stood a few feet ahead, still holding onto Gabrielle. She seemed to be taking in the surroundings.

Meekly, Cassia ventured a question. "What would you like me to do with your horse?"

Xena turned her head and pointed. "See the fur on the back of the saddle?"

The girl stepped over to it and placed a hand on top. "This?"

"Yes, pull that off and bring it here." Xena then acknowledged Taris. "How are you holding up?"

The queen shrugged as she continued to run a hand along her gelding's neck. "I'm as well as one could be in this situation." She pulled the itchy brown hood from her head and sighed.

Cassia meanwhile, managed to get the fur. She started toward the stalls with the mare in tow, and set the pelt on the ground against a wall. "Is this alright?"

"Yes. Thank you." Xena hoisted Gabrielle up slightly and headed in Cassia's direction. Once there, she slowly lowered her friend to the fur and knelt beside her. "Can you hand me my water skin?"

"Sure." Cassia pushed a wavy black lock of hair behind her shoulder and diligently untied the skin from the saddle. "Here you go."

Xena tipped her head in thanks as she had before, and turned back to face the bard. "Gabrielle? Are you alright???"

She slowly looked up and brought a hand to her head. There was throbbing pain in the back of it. Her eyes began to focus. Xena was staring at her with concern.

She swallowed and began to speak. "Xena? Where...where are we-"

The warrioress lifted a quieting finger. "Shh... First things first. Drink." She moved the water skin to Gabrielle's hand. "You got it? Are you alright? Are you dizzy??"

"Yea...and no, I don't feel dizzy." She took the item and drank. Her coherency was starting to return. "But-"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Xena raised three and put them in front of the bard's squinted eyes.

"Uh, three," Gabrielle ventured as she sniffed back the liquid that dared to run from her nose. "I'm ok, I'm just, " she shuddered, "cold."

Cassia took this as a cue. She untied the cloak she was wearing, slid it off. "Here. She needs this more than I."

The warrioress meekly smiled as it fell into her hand. She wrapped the cloak around Gabrielle's shoulders.

The bard pulled it tightly around her. "What happened? Where are we-"

"I'll explain later." Xena turned to look at Cassia, who was still holding her horse. The warrioress brushed straw particles from her palms on her leather corset and extended her chin. "Why don't you go assist the queen with her tack. I can take care of my own. These stalls look pretty worn, but they should suffice." She took the reins from the girl in one hand and placed the other on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Her eyes opened wide. The legendary Warrior Princess had just thanked her. She didn't think she had done anything necessarily special to warrant this. Still, it felt good.

With one last lingering stare at her childhood hero sitting on the fur below, Cassia replied, "It was the least I could do." She then went to assist the Queen.

Xena started unbuckling the girth of her saddle. The leather groaned from the tug and pull. Gabrielle observed this as she sat, propped up against the wall. She took a sip from the water skin before thoughtfully placing the cap back on. 

"Xena, please. Tell me what happened? Where are we? Where's Ares?"

Hearing the ex-Olympian's name, Xena's eyes lowered in pain. Her mind ran over the events that had happened at dawn. She pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a lump in her throat, and even now, she could still taste him there. She felt a sharp sting behind her eyes, daring to gloss her sight.

The warrioress breathed the tumult back and continued to remove her gear. Without turning around, she answered monotoned and curtly, "Ares is in Sparta."

It was all Gabrielle could to do to keep the water she'd just sipped from sputtering out. "What?! Xena?? The last thing I remember, we were on our way-" Then she realized that whatever had happened to her had impeded their escape. "Oh no..this is my fault-"

Xena slowly turned, cradling her saddle upon her arms. "No, Gabrielle... You fell from your horse and hit your head. It was an accident. Do not blame yourself."

She bent over and dropped her saddle to the ground. A puff of dust rose up and filled her lungs, causing her to cough. Xena grunted, trying to clear her throat, before leading her horse into one of the stalls. She pulled the bridle off, stepped back and picked up a board. Her hands slid it into the slots of the stall's frame, closing it.

Gabrielle, who had sat quietly as she did this, finally spoke up again. "How did they manage to catch him?" She pulled the cloak up to her face and breathed into it, waiting for an answer.

Xena looked to the rafters where fine tendrils of spider webs glistened. She closed her eyes, suppressing the stinging sensation back yet again. "Ares stayed behind so we could escape and not be followed."  She lowered her head and begrudgingly opened her eyes.

Gabrielle realized something as she stared up at her friend's dismal face. From the moment Xena rescued Ares from execution, the bard had thought her friend's actions were prompted by pity or perhaps even gratitude for what transpired on Olympus. At most, she had thought the warrioress did it out of remembering old feelings. But now, all was clear. She knew, that behind her friend's glossy eyes, Xena was mourning the loss of someone she cared for profoundly.

Gabrielle winced. "Xena..I..I don't know what to say..What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Her tone was laden with regret, but her next words were breathed out with complete and utter determination. "But, I'm not leaving Sparta until Ares is freed." She ran a hand over her chakram. Her eyes now glimmered with a feral-like vengeance. "Menelaus comes back soon... if it's the old man's head, or Ares'... I'll do what needs to be done."

Gabrielle pushed herself further upright. Her eyes widened in shock. "Xena?? What do you mean?"

The warrioress continued to run a finger along the chakram, her eyes disturbingly cold. "I think Menelaus' time on the throne is about to come to a brutal end."

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

Nikolaus stood within the throne room, enveloped in shadows cast from candlelight. The council member's head was bowed between his arms and his hands gripped the black marble horse beside the throne. The man's face was contorted with sorrow, making the creases on either side of his eyes blatantly apparent and telling of his years.

That morning, he had awoken to realize that Taris, the woman he loved, the mother of his child, was nowhere to be found. After desperately, yet discretely, searching for her throughout the day, he knew that she had breeched Sparta's walls. That left only one plausible answer. Taris had gone to warn Xena of Phazon's plan.

Nikolaus slid a hand from the horse, placed it on his face and tried to rub away the fear brewing behind his eyes. He knew that she felt it necessary to do something, but he had so wanted to believe that he had convinced her to stay out of it. Realizing he hadn't, and with no inclination of where he could find her, he slammed his fist against the cold marble horse and turned around. Planting his back firmly against the statue, Nikolaus' chest rose and fell in exasperation.

It was then that he realized he was no longer alone. The sound of footsteps echoed as they spilled into the room. Nikolaus looked up and there, approaching with a sinister smile upon his smug face, was Phazon.

Taking a step from the statue, Nikolaus frowned and crossed his arms. He didn't know if he should say something about Taris' disappearance or not. If Phazon captured Ares, there was a very good chance he had also found the queen, but there was also a chance that he didn't even know she was missing. If it was the latter, then bringing Taris up would only serve to expose her actions. Nikolaus chose to be quiet on the matter and awaited Phazon's greeting.

"So, is this where you've been lurking? You missed a most interesting morning," the short man stated as his beady eyes twinkled against the glow of candlelight.

"Is that so?"  Nikolaus smiled grimly. He thought it would be better to feed into Phazon's ever-growing ego so as not to prompt him to do anything rash. He knew of Taris' infidelity and if pushed, would surely tell the king, promise or not.

Phazon walked past Nikolaus, leering at him in a condescending manner. He took a step up and sat down in the royal throne. Greying orbs eyed the fine craftsmanship as he ran his palms along the arms of the chair, grinning with delight.

"Oh, indeed. I captured that recluse...and that will buy me more than you know, Niko." He shifted in the throne and brought his head back to rest on the ornate workmanship. "I could definitely get used to this. King Phazon of Sparta...Phazon, King of Sparta...Oh, so many choices." He grinned again.

"Such the opportunist," Nikolaus replied, rolling his eyes as he took a step back to lean against the wall.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Phazon sardonically chuckled before continuing, "I earned it and you know it. This will most assuredly get me named as Menelaus' successor."

Nikolaus sneered. "Is this to comfort the people of Sparta?"

Leaning forward, Phazon cocked his head. "No...but it will bring about the return to their former warring ways."

"And if they don't want that?"

"It is not for them to choose," Phazon stated flatly. He leaned back in the throne again and a sarcastic glare returned to his face. "By the way... I heard the most interesting news."

Nikolaus' brows lowered. Did this man know of Taris' involvement? Taking a deep breath, he swallowed back. "And what would that be?"

"Well," Phazon raised a clenched fist and propped his chin on it, "at first I hadn't thought much about it. You see, this morning...at the Eurotas...I saw three different horses."

With an askance look, Nikolaus shrugged. "So?"

"Three horses, and only one carried a single rider. The others carried two. It wasn't till we got back to Sparta and put our horses back in their stalls... that I noticed one missing. I inquired about it until, finally, a guard who had been on night watch informed me that two servants took the animal before dawn."

Nikolaus could feel his stomach tense. Still, he shrugged it off in hopes that Phazon wasn't implying what he thought. "What is your point? Servants take the horses all the time to carry out duties."

"Well, this was a particularly peculiar case. The guard explained to me that there were two women. Only one spoke to him and told him that Queen Taris asked that she and her friend go and check on the crops. Now, normally, this would sound feasible...but y'know..," Phazon stopped and grinned, swinging his legs over the arm of the throne as he continued, "when I went to talk with her about the matter, she was nowhere to be found, and when I inquired about this in the servant's quarters, the new girl was missing. Now, perhaps I'm stretching this a bit--but I can't help but surmise that your beloved little Taris and that girl left together to warn Ares of my visit." Phazon could tell by Nikolaus' widened eyes that he was indeed correct. Again, he grinned. "So, what do you think?"

Now it was clear. Phazon knew and here he sat, maliciously playing with Nikolaus' fear.

The tense feeling in his stomach ebbed, giving way to a brewing angst. Taris, the woman he loved, was in great danger. He knew this and he couldn't stand feeling helpless. Nikolaus stepped from the wall. Shadows danced around his feet as he stopped before the base of the throne.

Seething, he spat between his teeth, "What is it you want?"

Phazon raised a brow. "Want? Well, well, well, let me think-"

"Quit playing games!!" Nikolaus raised a fist and shook his head. "You must realize that Taris doesn't stand in your way...nothing stands in your way! You captured Ares and just as you, yourself stated- you'll most definitely be named successor! What else is there?!"

Phazon brought his legs down and sat upright in the throne again. The light of the candles ricocheted from his eyes. "Yes, but I leave nothing to chance.  After the execution is over, I want you to publicly announce your resignation from the council. I want you to forever leave Sparta and never return."

Sparta had been Nikolaus' home all his days. He'd grown united with the city, for it was a part of him. Now, he was being asked to leave all he knew behind-- leave the people he'd grown to see as more than commoners, people he considered family, in the clutches of a corrupt government. But, for Taris and their unborn, Nikolaus knew there was no other way. He closed his eyes and turned around. He moved to speak, but found himself cut off.

"Juuust what ar yu du-ing in my thrune?"

There, slouched against the wall, using it for support, and mouth ajar, was King Menelaus. He was in a drunken stupor and took shuffling steps toward the throne, his shoulder never leaving the sturdy surface of the wall.  The monarch warningly raised a finger and bobbed it up and down at Phazon, who sat with a shocked and leary expression.

"King Menelaus-" the councilman exclaimed as he got up from the throne. He quickly left the comfort of the seat and bowed his head in recognition of the inebriated sovereign. "My most humble apologies. I was merely resting my feet after a long day's work to serve you."

"I dun't caaaare. Geet ouut of muh way." Menelaus forcefully pushed Phazon toward the marble horse as he ascended to the throne and clumsily sat. He brought a finger to his brow and rubbed as he looked the two council members over. "Whut ar yu duing heere?"

Adjusting his robes, Phazon again bowed his head. Nikolaus, however, shook his head disgustedly in regard to Menelaus' drunken state. He took a step toward the throne and frowned.

"I thought you didn't return till tomorrow."

"Whal, I came bach eerly. Fineeshed bar-bar-barteereeng in Pylos. Juust goot bach frum celee-brah-shon. " Menelaus' head wobbled about as he incoherently mumbled. Again, he raised a finger. "Noow, whut ar yuu duing heere???"

Phazon took the opportunity to expound. With a growing smirk crossing his face, he stepped toward the throne. "I'm pleased to inform you, sire, that today at dawn, thanks to my sources," he briefly glanced at Nikolaus before continuing, "Ares was captured and brought back to Sparta. He now sits in the pit and all that is needed is your decision on an execution date."

Menelaus' head began to bob again as he drunkenly swayed, and his mouth slowly curled into a most pleased smile. He wildly clapped. The disjointed echo dripped from his palms and bounced against the stone walls.

"Thaaat is the beest neews I heear all day! Phazon, con-coonsider yourself proomooted! Nootify the peeple! Too-moorroow. Wee'll eend it too-moorroow."

The small man beamed. This was just what he had wanted to hear. With a bow, he responded, "Certainly. Is there anything else you need?"

"Yeeaaaah, whar's that girlie I seent? Or thaat wifeee." Menelaus started to cough uncontrollably. He brought a hand to his mouth trying to quiet the noise, till finally, the spasm subsided. "Eee-ther will doo. I'm soo drunk, I woouldn't be ablee to tell them apart an-ee-way."

Phazon eyes glimmered. He looked at Nikolaus. The glare essentially indicated that it was now or never. Nikolaus' face was shrouded in anger, but with a slight tip of the head, he conceded under the imposing stare.

The small man smiled in triumph and turned to face the king once more.

"Your wife was sent for to check on the crops. Apparently, due to the temperature drastically dropping, there was fear of frost. She took the new servant girl with her. I don't know when they'll be back." 

"Thaat wife! Alllwaaaaays thinking shee's ca-capa-capable of taaking care of Sparrtin affairs!" Menelaus slammed his fist down on the arm of the throne and groaned.

"Affairs? That's one way of putting it, sire." The sarcastic humor did not amuse Nikolaus in the least. The taller man grabbed him by the shoulder and with a warning glare, flared his nostrils. Phazon, on the other hand, was not the least bit phased. He rolled his eyes. "What I meant to say, was that the people of Sparta are quite fond of her."

Nikolaus took a step back. He immersed himself in shadows and turned around. "If this is concluded, may I go now?"

"Well, I don't have anything more to say to you, but I can't speak for King Menelaus."

The old man's head rolled to the side as he squinted his eyes and scrutinized the councilman. "Niko, whan did you geet bach an-ee-way? Last I saw...you w-eere rooning frum Sparta, sha-outing meeeerder." The sovereign began to laugh and another coughing spasm made its case.

Nikolaus turned to face him and sneered. "I came back a few days ago. I thought this whole execution business would be over. Regardless, there are obligations to these people that I can't ignore, so here I am." He adjusted his robes and concluded, "Speaking of which, there are pressing matters. Matters, which I must see to. May I go?"

"Yeeeeah. Geet outta heere. We should allll geet sum reest. Too-moo-roow is the day thaat Sparta reeclaims its integr-integrity." Again, he slammed a fist down and his old grey eyes sparked with drunken delight. "You,"  Menelaus yawned as his head rolled back to look at Phazon, "get one of them laaarge breaasted seeervants tooo help mee to bed. I need muh reeest for thee execution, cos theese time, it'll be done right."

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

The night wind brushed the barn in unrelenting strokes. The wooden frame of the abandoned structure moaned with each caress. The horses stood in the worn stalls, their tack and bridles left just beyond the gates, while Gabrielle rested at the foot of one. Cassia's cloak still served as a blanket and the bard was curled underneath, trying to escape the throbbing headache that pounded against her temples.

Beside her, sat Xena. Her hand was propped on one of the bard's shoulders and she briefly looked down at her friend. She meekly smiled, leaned her head against the wall and watched as Taris got up from the ground. The queen brushed straw off of her hands and moved toward the stairs that led to the above loft. Her expression was sullen as she ascended them. The warrioress knew a great anxiety was weighing on her.

Xena sighed and lowered her gaze to Cassia. The young girl sat against a stall frame, staring off into nothing. "You did a brave thing today."

"Thank you. I didn't know what was going on, but I felt obligated to help Queen Taris." She tipped her head at the bard. "She going to be alright?"

Leaning over to look at Gabrielle's resting face, Xena nodded. "Yes. It was just a bump on the head. There's no sign of concussion. She just needs rest."

"Your adventures together are forever immortalized--thanks to her scrolls. She must mean a lot to you, Xena."

Still peering down, she bobbed her head again. Days of fighting, loss, victory and regret washed over her. Xena's path to redemption had wrought many things, but Gabrielle was always by her side. Together, they'd faced horrible circumstances, and neither allowed the other to falter.

"She's my best friend. For a long time, she was my only friend. She's family, a sister who's never turned her back on me and she...she helped me discover that there was a better way." Xena's words were sincerely spoken. Her eyes fluttered up as she posed a question. "Any siblings?"

Cassia sullenly responded, "There...was. A sister. Her name was Alex.. We were so close and one day..she was...murdered by the leader of a small ruffian army."

The warrioress lowered her head. Xena felt regret, even though she knew she had nothing to do with the girl's demise, for she had been the leader of such an army at one time. She had been the Destroyer of Nations and knew all too well what conquest entailed.

Her tone was coarse as she squeezed out the words, "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's alright. I will forever cherish her memory. We were inseparable and when she was taken from me, I didn't know what I would do. I lost everything that day. My sister, my father, my home, but I also.. found something--a glimmer of hope."

Arching a brow, Xena tilted her head. "What was it?"

"Inner strength. I learned that you can carry on. You can stand alone if need be. If you know who you are and stand by it, no-one can take that from you. It's one of the only things that has kept me going through the years of being traded from one city to another. People label me as a slave, but I'm not. I will never accept that and I know I will be free one day... somehow." Cassia cuffed a hand and put it under her chin. "I'm sorry, I kinda expound a lot."

"Not at all. I think it's admirable. So many people don't understand the power they truly possess."

The fingers of Cassia's other hand shuffled through the flakes of straw below. "Well, I just know that while I will always miss my family, the strength they imbued in me will forever be. In that sense, they never really left."

The warrioress lazily sat back against the wall and sighed. "You remind me a lot of Gabrielle," she admitted.

"What do you mean," the young woman asked, flattered that the parallel was drawn.

Making sure not to disturb her resting friend, Xena slowly got up from the ground and stood. She swiped the granules of dirt from her hands and again, leaned back against the wall. Her eyes loomed down at the bard before flickering up to answer Cassia.

"Your unwillingness to lose faith. That was one of Gabrielle's strongest assets."

"Was," she asked, also rising to stand.

Xena crossed her arms as her head rolled back to gaze at the black sky peering down through the holes in the roof. "She's faced some pretty awful things traveling with me, Cassia. It's hard to hold onto innocence when walking the path of a warrior." She looked back to the woman and tilted her head. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six, actually."

Xena arched a brow. "I thought you were younger...amazing."

Cassia pushed a lock of her hair behind her shoulder and scratched her head. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Just that...it's amazing how innocence can keep one so.." She stopped and set her eyes on the resting bard by her feet before solemnly shrugging and looking away. "I thought you were a young girl... that's all. If you excuse the twenty-five years we were out of action, that would make you older than Gabrielle."

"But, she's experienced so much more, Xena. You are both travelers of the world. The only traveling I know, is the kind that comes along with being traded." She lowered her head and idly kicked the straw beneath her boot tread.

Xena frowned. "I know the path I walk isn't the easiest, but it's the one I know is right for me... but Gabrielle...as many places as she's seen and things she's done, nothing seems to be able to replace that empty spot where her innocence once was." Xena's fingers rapped against the wall she leaned on. There was a moment of silence before she finally shook her head. "Listen, I better go talk to Taris. There are some details I need. Will you keep an eye on Gabrielle?"

"Of course, Xena."

The warrioress meekly smiled and walked off. Thoughtfully, she took hold of the ladder-like stairs that led to the loft above. With one foot on the first rung, another still on the ground, Xena stopped and looked at Cassia.

"You're a lot more worldly than you know." With that, she made her way up and into the shadows.

Cassia just stood there, a smile gracing her face. Her eyes held fast to where Xena had just been and, for a brief moment, she could feel her own sister's presence.

The bard's eyes were also staring off. They were locked on the back of the girl's head, deep in thought.

Unknown to either Xena or Cassia, she had heard their entire conversation. Their words had definitely made an impression. Gabrielle wondered if she would be able to carry on without Xena by her side to guide the way. She'd been a mentor, confidant, a rock of support, her family, and the bard couldn't help but feel that she would be at a loss without the warrioress leading the way.

It was so painful.

Gabrielle also knew, however, that Xena was right. This path was systematically destroying her. She had tried to retain peaceful ways while traveling by her side. It didn't work. After all the years of helping Xena on her path to redemption, the bard never thought she would be seeking her own.

Could she do this on her own? She didn't know, but she had to try, no matter how scared she was to do so.

Gabrielle didn't want Cassia to know she was up, so she quickly closed her eyes. That conversation continued to echo in her mind, though. As her lashes came down, a teardrop rolled from between and descended down her face. The bard buried her head further into the cloak. She wanted time to think things through.

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

Xena reached rickety boards that served as the loft's floor. Making cautious steps, she made her way toward Taris, who sat thoughtfully on an old bale of molded hay. The queen was staring off through a square opening in the wall, listening to the sounds the wind produced.

The warrioress stood beside her. A pulley loomed above her head. It was used for hoisting hay and other goods up into the loft through the opening. Xena clasped the object and swung it like a pendulum. The coarse, brown, and semi-unraveled rope groaned as the weighted piece of metal rocked back and forth.

Taris looked so somber and this caused Xena to frown as well. She looked behind her and found a suitable square of hay to sit on. She promptly took a seat and her fingers fumbled through the flakes as chose her words.

"Are you alright?" She asked, noting that the queen gripped her cloak tightly around her. "It's quite cold up here."

"I don't know if I'll ever be alright, Xena," she answered, her eyes unmoving from the night's cloudy and starless sky.

The warrioress looked up at the still swinging pulley and breathed in. "I need to talk to you about what we're going to do about Menelaus."

At this, Taris' green eyes moved to look upon her. "What did you have in mind?"

"Your relationship with the commoners-- I saw how their eyes were filled with adoration for you, but...are they loyal?" Xena's tone was quiet, yet direct.

"Well...the Spartan people seem to respect me. I try to patient, generous...it has done well to garner their respect." Taris' words trailed off as her eyes lowered. "But, at the same time, they don't realize what kind of man Menelaus truly is and they trust the man. So, I don't know."

"And the guards?"

"That, I don't know either. They take orders from him and carry them out to the letter. At the same time, the soldiers are husbands, fathers, and brothers. That makes them no different from the rest of the Spartan people. And, like them, they are just as much in the dark in regard to Menelaus' apathy. If only they knew the truth." She looked Xena directly in the eyes. "He plans to make them a warring people again, you know. He's power hungry and if he gets what he wants... I fear what will happen, not only to Sparta, but to the rest of Greece."

The warrioress looked down at her worn leathers. Many nicks and scratches could be found if one stared long enough. Sparsely gracing the corset were stitch marks which were made in mending the battle dress. Each stitch had a memory attached, a fight, a battle. She knew what lust for power entailed. Even these leathers were proof of that. They were a constant reminder and, in a way, metaphorical.

No one ever seemed to notice the worn state of her gear. The stitch marks were small, the scratches cast with darkening oil stain. But, Xena knew they were there and they were all too apparent in her eyes. She couldn't help but wonder, if Menelaus were to succeed, would these common people be mending their wares, not due to farming, but due to war?

She finally shifted her eyes. "How long have you been queen?"

Taris ran a hand through her hair and faced the night sky. "It's been so long that I don't even remember. I never really wanted it, but my father wouldn't allow me to decline." She leaned against the wall and looked back at the younger woman beside her. "Menelaus has taken many things from me. My self-respect, my happiness...my love."

"Love," Xena repeated at a whisper.

"Love holds so much power and without it, there is nothing. When I was forced to marry Menelaus..my life with Nikolaus was taken from me and with it, my future...my joy." Her eyes began to gloss. "So many nights I have cried, regretting the day I took my wedding vows. I denied what was truth in my heart to satisfy the wants of others, to do what was expected of me. Do you know what that feels like, Xena? To have the love of your life taken from you...and being repeatedly told that it was for the best?"

Xena's mouth dropped. For whatever reason, one she couldn't explain, she did know what Taris meant. The words of response were not forthcoming. They sat idle on her tongue as she stumbled to reach them. "I..I-"

Taris shook her head as she cut her off. "Of course you know what it is to have the one you love taken from you. " She continued to shake her head as though her question had been silly. "You're going through that right now with Ares," the woman stated, looking pointedly at Xena.

Again, the warrioress' mouth hung agape. She'd never spoken about her feelings in regard to Ares in a definitive manner to Taris or anyone else...not even herself. So, just why would she say that? How could this woman, this stranger, pick-up on something buried so deep?

Xena felt the need to tell the woman she didn't know what she was talking about, even if she did. "Taris, I-"

Once again, she was cut off.

"Don't let him be taken from you, Xena. I tell you this from experience. You will regret it till the day you no longer walk this earth. The loss eats at you... till you're nothing but a shell." Taris brought a finger to her eye and wiped away an impending tear.

Xena felt cornered. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Are you crying?" She extended a hand, but Taris gently pushed it away.

"No. I...I refuse to shed another tear because of that man!" Taris wiped her fingers upon the rough cotton cloak and recomposed herself. "He needs to be stopped before he destroys everything within his reach."

The warrioress eased. Taris was no longer discussing matters of the heart. That topic made her feel all too vulnerable. She felt ultimately transparent under Taris' observations and that did not sit well with her--not when she hadn't even admitted these things to herself.

Now that she was talking about Menelaus again, Xena inwardly sighed with relief.

She propped her elbows on her thighs and brought her chin to rest atop her clasped hands. "If the Spartans knew the truth..." Her teeth bit at her bottom lip as the wheels in her mind began to turn. She held this contemplative pose till a flicker sparked behind her eyes, illuminated by the gleam of the moon. "Well, then lets tell them the truth."

She cocked her head to the side and raised a brow. "How do you suggest we do that?"

Xena stood up from her hay bale and brushed herself off. "We'll discuss the particulars once Gabrielle gets up. We need to move on this soon. I understand if you're scared-"

She lifted a silencing hand. "No. I no longer feel fear...I can't feel anything but contempt.

"Fear will be a distant memory if my plan goes accordingly, Taris, but I will need your help."

"As long as it doesn't complicate the pregnancy." Taris' hands moved along the rough cotton shrouding her stomach. "This may be my only chance at being a mother."

Xena crossed her arms. The gleam behind her eyes resurfaced as the warrior in her took over. "Oh, don't worry. You'll be in the safest place possible."

"Where's that," the Queen of Sparta questioned, bringing her soothing hands to a halt.

"Under the edge of my sword."

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

Upon a dirt floor, roaches stealthily scuttled about. The annoying sound of squeaking rats could be heard as they made their way from under small crooks in the wall. In the corner, a guard sat under the flickering light of an overhead torch. He picked at the breakfast before him, comprised of flatbread, ham and tomatoes. The sound of his fork scraping against the plate grated throughout the room.

 A solemn and despondent shroud enveloped the imprisoned man, whose face was pressed between two  poles. He closed his eyes, recalling recent days of freedom and his hand slid down the length of one of the bars. Now, immersed in this damp and chilling atmosphere, he stood silent.

Ares' hands curled around the cold steel. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down. They were now bereft of the power that had coursed through them for eons. That intense heat had been extinguished the night Olympus fell. It had been toppled by a selfless gesture of these same hands--the same that had once clung unrelentingly to grandeur and greed.

He closed his eyes again. There were many things he regretted about his life, but giving up Olympus was not one of them.

Ares took a step back from the bars and leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him. He crossed his arms against his chest and stared at the dirt ceiling. The earthen smell filled his nostrils with its moldy scent and triggered a small cough.

A pair of footsteps echoed down the stone steps leading into the 'pit'. Ares immediately recognized the embroidered robes that skimmed the stairs. It was Menelaus.

He stepped into the room, keeping his hands behind his back, and briefly regarded the guard on duty with a nod of the head. He then turned to look at the imprisoned man before him and a smile so maliciously smug crossed his old weathered face.

"Well, well, well...look who's back. Surely, you must now know that there is no escape." He grinned and raised his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "It truly is a beautiful morning."

Ares was not about to allow Menelaus the satisfaction of seeing fear behind his eyes. No, he stood his ground and made not one move from the wall. Instead, he kept his features relaxed.

"Is it morning? I couldn't tell. It's easy to lose track of time down here," he boredly responded.

Menelaus raised a grey brow. "Yes, well, don't worry. You won't be down here all day. I must admit, I'm glad that we didn't hang you as I had planned before."

"I suppose you're going to tell me why," he drawled out.

"Well, while you were on the run, I had time to think things through and," the king's tone grew sarcastic, "the 'great Ares of Olympus' deserves a proper execution."

 "Is that so?"

"Oh yes...especially after I found out that you beheaded one of my elite soldiers."

The corners of Ares' lips turned up. He figured he didn't have anything to lose. He wasn't going to play into fear. No, he decided that if this was to be his last day, he was going to leave it with his chin up in defiance.

"I just regret it wasn't you."

The old man's eyes widened in equal parts of shock and anger. "I see that your time away has not only afforded you with a hair cut, but an attitude that you better suppress," he spat.

Ares remained against the wall, but slightly leaned forward. "It afforded me with a lot more than you'll ever know or understand. But, I see a change in you as well."

The monarch sneered and raised his chin. "And what would that be?"

"Well, you actually look sober."

He scowled. Menelaus knew he had a drinking problem. The throbbing in his head from last night's alcoholic indulgence was still making its case, but he was not going to stand there and let it be pointed out.

"How dare you."

Ares scratched the side of his face and shrugged. "What's wrong Menelaus? Why should my words bother you so? I thought you were in complete control here. I mean, you are planning to execute me in just a few hours. What can my words really do to you...." Ares took a few steps forward, stopping at the bars and clutching one in each hand as he finished, "you pathetic infidel."

Menelaus' nostrils flared. He looked across the room at the guard who sat at the table with a wide-eyed expression. The King of Sparta was none to happy that he was being ridiculed in front of one of his soldiers.  He needed to regain a semblance of authority and quickly took a step forward.

"Your words do nothing but irritate me. I'm going to enjoy your execution, for I did indeed think of a better and more befitting way to end your days." He finally brought his hands from behind his back. There, propped in the right, was a magnificent sword with an intricately crafted hilt. "Recognize this?"

Ares' grip on the bars tightened. He wasn't all that surprised to see the weapon in Menelaus' possession, but it still angered him. "You may think that by executing me you'll become renown as some great leader, but believe me, power is fleeting."

"Oh no." Menelaus shook his head as his smile reappeared. He raised a hand, and gestured like a bard setting a scene. "Can't you just see it? For all time, people will remember the day that I, King Menelaus of Sparta, Conqueror of Troy, beheaded the once fiercesome Ares, bringer of Destruction and War, with his own sword."

He was inwardly shaken by this, but held his ground. "I see that my sword isn't the only thing you've taken." He pointed to the pendant that hung from the old man's neck. "Your facade may work in tricking the people into thinking you're worthy of their respect, but there is something that you will never understand."

"And what would that be?"

Raising his chin and looking down at Menelaus' shorter form beyond the bars, Ares smiled patronizingly. "What it is to be... human."

With an incredulous glare, the old man scoffed, "As if you would! How soon you forget what a ruthless and unrelenting menace you were. How, by your command, Greece was scarred by your legions, all for nothing more than your amusement." He stopped and raised a finger. "That, however, I could understand. You were war, Ares...yet, what I still cannot fathom is, why. Why, would you condemn Olympus. And you dare to call me pathetic?" Menelaus shook his head. "No. You are the one that I find laughable and I'm sure all of Greece would agree. You're nothing, Ares..."

"Correction- I'm more than I ever was. These past few months have taught me a great many things. I'm realizing what it is to be human and as much as you might be shocked to hear it, I don't regret leaving Olympus behind." He defiantly glared at the monarch. "Can you understand that?? I don't regret it. So, go on with your superfluous and condescending speech about how you plan to 'end my days'. In the long run, it doesn't matter." Ares extended his arms. "You can't hurt me, you insipid, pathetic dog and you never could."

Try as he might, Menelaus couldn't seem to intimidate the prisoner. Infuriated, one hand clutched a bar of the cell, while he raised the sword in the other. "You dare to talk to me like that?! Don't forget Ares," the old man's eyes iced over as he threatened, "it doesn't need to be a simple and quick execution."

Ares didn't bat an eyelash.

Menelaus was growing more and more enraged at Ares' unwillingness to concede to fear, but he realized the guard was still sitting there watching. He quickly decided he needed to regain control and composure. The sovereign lowered the sword, stepped back, and took a breath. It was time for a different approach.

"A few days with Xena and you think you're invincible.." The man's grey brows came to a point and he sarcastically asked, "What, did you get a nice screw from her?? Did she declare her love for you??"

"No," Ares answered with a flat and direct tone, shooting daggers at Menelaus with his eyes.

"Aw...so sad to hear it. Then, what's caused this change? What was so special?"

"She granted me her forgiveness." Ares' eyes were set, staring holes through Menelaus. He then stepped from the bars, leaned back against the stone wall again, and crossed his arms. "Not that it's any of your business."

He mockingly laughed. "Are you serious?? She forgives you and now you don't fear your execution? How utterly ludicrous."

"I told you before, old man. You don't understand anything about the matter. It doesn't surprise me," he shrugged and concluded, "but you asked, so I told you."

"And here's another question. Just what did you think would happen, Ares?" He raised a brow and the lines boarding his eyes grew as he sardonically smiled. "If you had escaped from Sparta- just what would you do?? Fight side-by-side with Xena and try to redeem yourself," he shook with laughter, "that you'd travel across Greece righting wrongs?" Menelaus abruptly stopped laughing, raised a finger and scowled. "There is no redemption in war."

"You seem to forget who you're talking to," Ares started, brewing with animosity. He walked up to the bars and stared down at Menelaus. "You call yourself the 'Conqueror of Troy'...Do you really think you won that by your own merits?" The ex-Olympian deliberately shook his head. "Oh no. And now, you think that by executing me, you'll know what power really does feel like?" He stopped and raised a brow. "You must be more inept than I thought."

Upon hearing this, the guard finally stood. The wood table creaked as he bumped the corner of it. "He can not speak to you this way-"

"No, sit down," Menelaus yelled at the guard without even looking at him.  Scowling at Ares, the old man clenched his jaw and seethed. "Just what are you getting at!?"

"I am eons old, while you are a few scant years. So, don't even dare to presume you know anything about me."

"Is that-" Menelaus' words were cut short.

"The rise and fall of empires, monarchs, nations... the art of war and the struggle for power....Century after century, armies and warriors swept across this land, bending it, shaping it, into what you now see." Ares titled his head and took another step forward. "Just who do you think set them into motion?"

Menelaus patronizingly smirked. "The same being who now stands imprisoned by my order." He twirled the sword in his hand, turned around and started to depart. "Enjoy your final hours."

Ares thrust his arm between the bars. "You know this, Menelaus!! Nothing you do today will erase what you truly are! You will never get what you so desperately seek," he chillingly roared.

The monarch spun around, his face contorted with rage. He pointed the sword at Ares and shakily bobbed it. "And you know this! In just a few hours, your head will be sitting atop the gates of Sparta on a pike!!!"

At that, the old man stormed out of the pit, the sword gripped firmly in hand.

Ares looked like he was about to rip the poles from the cell out one by one. The animosity brewing behind the ex-Olympian's eyes was startling and for a brief moment, the guard in the corner felt fear. The soldier remained seated, looked away.

Stepping back against the wall, Ares looked toward the ceiling and drew a deep breath of air before closing his eyes. He was attempting to calm the rage inside. The effort was abandoned as, just moments later, the sound of footfall spilled into the room again.

"What now, you impudent dog," Ares shouted as he lowered his head. To his surprise, it wasn't Menelaus that stood before the steel poles of the cell. "Who are you?"

The man's eyes were downcast. Raising a hand, he signaled the guard to go.

"I don't think I should leave my post," the soldier answered.

"This man stands to be executed in a mere few hours. I want to speak to him alone and you will do as I say! Do you understand!?"

The guard stood and again, bumped into the wobbly table, causing it to shake. Droplets of water fell from the mug atop it. He placed his hands on either end of the table to steady it, and looked up. "But, Sir-"

"NOW!"

The Spartan conceded. "Alright, but if I get in trouble for this-"

"You won't...now go."

The guard nodded, grabbed his plate from the table, and made his way to the stairs. Placing a booted foot atop the first, he stopped. "Just a few minutes." At that, he ascended into the shadows, his steps echoing behind.

Ares' brows came to a point. "I'm asking you again. Who are you?"

Adjusting his silk green chiton, the gentleman stepped forward. He wearily looked up. "My name is Nikolaus."

"Well, if you're here to help, you're a little too late."

Nikolaus lowered his head, placing a hand on one of the cold steel bars.  He felt quite out of place. Here he stood outside the cell that held inside a being which had once been the personification of war. He was admittedly intimidated, though he tried not to show it.

 He stared at the ground and stuttered, "I-I...know."

"Then why is it you came to talk?" Ares crossed his arms and, staring suspiciously at the man, walked up to him. "If this is about Taris, she escaped with Xena."

 "How did you kno-"

"Because you look like you lost something you cherish. That's how." Ares took a breath and leaned against the bars. "I know that expression all too well."

"Yes, the events leading up to the downfall of Olympus...all of Greece knows. You must truly love her."

Ares turned to face Nikolaus. "Yes, I do... and now, because of Menelaus' greed...I will never be able to tell her." He lowered his head and placed his hands on the metal bars, gripping them tightly and wincing from another spurt of pain in his chest. Only this time, it wasn't due to his ribs.

"Do you think she's fled Sparta with Taris??" Nikolaus' brows rose in anticipation of an answer. He desperately wanted to know where the queen was.

Xena's words, 'I'll come for you. I swear it,' echoed through Ares' mind. They stung bittersweet in his heart. On the one hand, he wanted to believe that was true--wanted to hold onto something. On the other, he worried about what her return would produce. He feared for her safety.

Sullenly, he shook his head. "I don't know. Don't worry, though. She'll keep Queen Taris safe. But, I hope they did the right thing and left. I don't want Xena anywhere near here."

"But why?? Perhaps she could save you as she did before!"

Nikolaus was truly confused. This being had once been imbued with powers that the councilman could scarcely comprehend. Why would he be content in defeat??

Ares spun around and crossed his arms, staring holes through the stone wall in front of him. "After everything that has happened...do you think that I could stand the thought of what could or would happen to her?! I didn't give up my immortality for nothing." He kicked the dirt under his feet and turned back to face Nikolaus. "Then there's you."

"Wha-what do you mean??" He took a step back from the bars and titled his head, awaiting an answer.

Ares took a bar in each hand and pressed his forehead between them. "Phazon knew where we were. Thankfully, Taris warned us...but, just where were you?" 

"No, you don't understand. I wanted to help you. Truly, I did-but Phazon- that bastard! He threatened Taris' life. He threatened to expose our affair to Menelaus. I couldn't allow that to happen!" He ran a hand through his greying brown hair and regretfully shook his head. "If I could stop this, Ares...I would."

"Well, it's too late for the 'woulda, shoulda, coulda's',  isn't it? I should know. There's plenty of them that I guess I won't be able to reconcile myself." Ares pushed himself back from the bars, but still retained his grip on them. "You should go, Nikolaus. Whatever guilt you're feeling...don't." He looked at him darkly. "But, don't let Menelaus sit on the throne long."

The councilman's brows came to a point and his mouth fell agape, confused. How was he to take the crown from the old man? He began to say something, but Ares suddenly looked away and took a step back. Nikolaus turned to see what the prisoner was glaring at. There on the steps stood the guard, twirling a ring of keys between fingers.

"Time's up, sir," the soldier stated, making his way back to the table in the corner. The armor he wore rattled with each step. He sat back down and the torchlight cast shadows over the man's face.

"I'm sorry."

Ares tipped his head in response to Nikolaus' apology. He wasn't even exactly sure what the man was apologizing for, but he sounded sincere. Maybe not all mortals thought he was a monster--nothing but the personification of war and destruction. Maybe Menelaus had been wrong.

Nikolaus took a step backward. "Again, I'm sorry."

At that, he turned around and made his way to the stairs. He stopped at the foot of them and looked at the ex-Olympian again. He took a moment to find the words, but found that simplicity worked best.

The councilman took a breath and stated, "Your loss will not go unnoticed," before finally ascending the steps.

Ares faltered backward. As his back connected with the rough stone wall, he clumsily shuffled to the floor. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him. He clutched his head between his hands, the muscles of his arms bulging in frustration. Drawing his knees up, he ran his fingers through his black hair and gazed hopelessly downward. It was so hard to breathe. 

A life that he once thought to be never ending, was about to come to its close?  Eons' worth of existence--snuffed out in a single day. He could not accept this, but what could he do?

Would Greece truly feel his loss? Would anyone?

Ares curled his hands into fists. He doubted they would. No, instead a glorious celebration would probably ensue. Strangely enough, he didn't really care if that was the case.

There was only one person who mattered.

Only one.

"Xena," he whispered with a wavering breath, "I will miss you."

And there he remained, sitting amongst the dirt and crawling roaches, listening to the scuttles of rats. There he stayed, glaring at the crawling fire of the torch, the smell of mold filling his constricted lungs. There, in the shadows, he could feel his agonizing heart descend in unison with a solitary tear which trailed the length of his face. It was the first tear Ares had ever shed in his entire existence and... what was quite possibly the last.

Part 5