A middle-aged Xena and Gabrielle find themselves reprising roles from their past, after receiving a mysterious invitation from Cleades, the baby-to-man monarch of season four’s "Key To The Kingdom."
FIFTY WINTERS AGO
By IseQween
IseQween@aol.com
May 2004
PART 1
"F ifty winters ago. Hard to believe, eh?" The tall, distinguished speaker grinned. "Technically, it’s been a little longer than that for me, but - at our age - who’s counting?"
The handful of men and women chuckled. All felt lucky to be alive, let alone quibbling over a few years’ difference in their experiences.
"Ha, whoever made that threat should’ve caught me back when I still had my figure." The stout woman in her 60’s pinched the flesh hanging from her arm. "Then I might’ve cared."
"Me, I wouldn’t’ve passed this up for the world. Hades himself couldn’t’ve stopped me, even with this bum leg of mine."
"Yep, ain’t often I git ta laze around in a fancy place like this." The sturdy male speaker glanced around the banquet hall they lounged in. "I got ta give it ta Cleades for buildin’ this guest compound. That castle of his was fine when he had ta worry more about keepin’ people out, but it sure weren’t that comfy for folks inside."
An expensively attired matron brushed nervously through her silver-blond hair. "That’s why I was so surprised by the threatening note. It’s been ages since we’ve had to worry about attacks in my realm. I felt transported back to the days when warlords ran amuck."
"It is strange," agreed the stout woman. "Robbery I could understand." She smiled at the matron. "We do have a few notables among us worth kidnapping or something. But killing? What possible harm could we pose to anybody?"
"I wonder if it’ll keep the others away. Cleades said he’d found a couple more members during his travels," added the tall gentleman. "I was looking forward to meeting them. I’m always curious to see if anybody can break my record as the oldest - well, `first’ to be more accurate."
The man with the bum leg nodded. "We could use some new blood. Another 10 years and most of us’ll probably be gone."
"Fine with me. I ain’t had it as easy as some of the rest of ya. The next few days I’ll have a big, soft bed and all the food I kin eat. No roosters gettin’ me up afore I want or leaky roof callin’ my name."
"I hope the others arrive soon," the matron said with concern. "Otherwise, I’ll worry some thugs really did attack them."
"Ah, I wouldn’t worry too much." The man with the bum leg awkwardly pushed himself to his feet. "Probably somebody’s idea of a joke. Knuckleheads with nothin’ better to do than try and scare a bunch of old folks grayer than we already are." He yawned and stretched. "Well, I’m ready for that nice, soft bed. If somebody kills me in my sleep, I’ll die a happy man."
*****
"Fifty winters. That’s about how long this’s been gnawin’ at me. Evertime I thought I had it licked, there’d be somethin’ to remind me." The burly white-haired warrior paced in front of the campfire, his eyes burning into the motley "army" he’d assembled. "Most of you’re too young to remember, but I do. Those old buzzards do too."
"I hear the warning didn’t work too hot, least not on the couple I know about," said the only woman in the group. She flicked her finger against her knife blade. "Guess I’ll get to use this after all."
"You said we wouldn’t have to kill nobody," a youngish man piped up. "All’s we had to do was scare `em, keep `em away and run off the few who showed up."
A grizzled warrior in black snickered. "What’s a matter, boy? Don’t have the stomach for a little bloodletting?" He searched out the approval of others dressed in tattered battle clothes like himself.
"Yeah," another older man said. "Not much action anymore like in the good old days. My Pop could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. If we don’t fight for our traditions, who will?"
The gang murmured among themselves, with varying levels of enthusiasm for going beyond a few scare tactics. Finally a man with scars on his face stalked over to stand with their leader.
"Enough! We didn’t come all this way to cluck like a bunch of chickens! Areus knows what he’s talkin’ about. He spent years plannin’ this. When it’s over, we’ll have rid ourselves of the blot on our heritage. I say we cut the crap and get on with why we’re here."
The woman brandished her knife. "Yeah!"
"I want my revenge!" declared another member.
"Blood will have blood!"
Areus raised his sword. "What about the rest of you? Ya want your seed to live on in shame?"
"No!" several voices shouted in unison.
"Do we let a bunch of sorry old wimps defeat us without even lifting a hand?"
"No!"
"Do we march on Cleades and take our due?"
"Yeah!"
"Excellent." Areus smiled grimly. "This is my destiny. Follow me and reclaim yours!"
*****
"Fifty winters." Xena rested her head on the tree behind her, gazing into the distance. She exhaled a long breath. "Who’d’ve thought?"
"Xena?"
Xena absently stroked the fine blond hair splayed across her lap. "Hmmm?"
"We’re supposed to be celebrating the time we’ve actually spent together."
"Oh, yeah. Right." Xena shook her head and grinned down at Gabrielle. "Though, technically, we were together the 25 years Ares had us frozen - just in separate coffins."
"`Technically,’ we might as well’ve been dead." Gabrielle smirked. "I don’t recall you ever hopping up to wish me ‘good morning.’"
"How do you know I didn’t in my dreams?"
"Because, if you did, I’d know. If you did and I didn’t know, that doesn’t count as ‘together.’"
"Ah." Xena looked out again. "I do wonder sometimes about those lost years. Not just missing Eve grow up, but whether I might’ve been able to do more good. You know?"
Gabrielle closed her eyes. "Not really. I figure we did well enough the most important years."
"Yeah? Which ones? The battles with the gods? Saving humankind from Dahak? Making sure Chin and Egypt and Rome and other places got a chance to get out from under tyrants? Being involved with -."
"Ahem." Gabrielle scowled up with a "could you be so dense" expression.
"Um, being with you, which I was saving for last, because those have been the best 25 years of my life?"
"Good save. Though technically it’s 24. You keep forgetting the year I spent comatose in that ring of fire - ‘technically’ making me another year younger than you, since I don’t seem to have aged then either."
"I still had you inside, despite my amnesia. That doesn’t count as ‘together’?"
"Not until you actually popped up to wake me. Quite nicely, I might add. Certainly one ‘good morning’ kiss I’ll never forget."
"Heh. You should’ve seen what it took to get there. Fending off that slob Hrothgar. Fighting those Valkyries. Literally leaping through fire, not to mention -."
"Xena?"
"Hmm?"
Gabrielle sat up. "Look around." She swept her arm to indicate the lovely scenery, the tablecloth-covered blanket laden with dishes of fruit and cheese, a basket of breads and pastries, the goblets and pitcher of wine, centered by a vase of wild flowers. "Are you trying to take the romance out of this?"
Xena blinked, then grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess from my standpoint, that’s not possible." She waited for Gabrielle’s response with the slight smugness of someone who’d managed to say the right thing and win at the same time.
Gabrielle stared back with the graceful resignation of someone defeated by irrefutable love. "You know, this little celebration of ours was to remind us why we’ve tolerated each other so long. Perhaps I should’ve been more precise in my wish."
"C’mere." Xena pulled Gabrielle next to her and wrapped her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulders. With her free hand, she picked up a goblet to give Gabrielle. She poured wine into it and then into a goblet for herself.
"As someone who once believed herself destined to be alone, I salute the one person who tolerated me enough to prove me wrong. I pray it’s my destiny to be with you another 50 … um … 25 … 24 years." She clunked goblets with Gabrielle.
Gabrielle wryly shook her head. She raised her goblet. "As someone who once doubted she’d meet anyone fascinating enough to spend eternity with, I salute the one person who tolerated me enough to prove me wrong. I pray it’s my destiny to be with you forever." Her eyes twinkling with just a wee bit of smug one-upwomanship, Gabrielle clunked goblets with Xena.
The two sealed their toasts with a kiss. They sighed contentedly and enjoyed the palette of spring colors that seemed especially ordered for that moment.
"This is nice."
"Umhm."
"Things have been pretty hectic lately. Didn’t realize how long it’s been since we had time to ourselves like this."
Gabrielle chuckled. "So much for our ‘semi-retirement.’ We forgot to schedule in some peace and quiet. Maybe if we …." Gabrielle felt the familiar tensing in her partner’s body. "What?"
"Someone’s coming." Out of habit, Xena pulled her chakram closer. "Too noisy to be a real threat, but …." She turned her head toward the sounds of underbrush crunching. She relaxed when she saw the tall, slim figure of Daracles, one of their younger neighbors.
"Gabrielle! Xena!" Daracles puffed a little from what must have been a rather fast-paced trek. "Eve told me where you’d probably be." He walked over and stooped to catch his breath.
Xena scowled at him. "Did the sky fall in over the Village?"
Daracles frowned nervously at what sounded like a trick question. With Xena, any answer might be wrong. "Um, ‘sky fall’?"
"I thought my instructions were pretty clear. Everybody keep away unless the sky’s falling."
Daracles ducked his head. "Blame it on Eve. I’m just the messenger." He peered at Xena hopefully. "Okay?" He turned to Gabrielle for support.
"It’s all right, Daracles. Don’t pay Xena any mind. If Eve sent you, it must be important."
"Whew!" Daracles dropped down beside the blanket. "I understand this was supposed to be a special day for you," he said, indicating the spread of goodies. "Eve said you’d want to know."
Xena blew out a prolonged sigh. "We might, if maybe we knew what it was we’d want to know."
It took Daracles a moment to realize he’d been asked a question. "Oh, y-y-yes, yes, of course," he stammered, fumbling at the pack on his back. "Eve said it had something to do with King Cleades. An invitation to a party, I think." Finally he found what he was searching for. "She sent a note." He offered the message to Xena, who crooked her head, none too happily, in Gabrielle’s direction. He handed the note to Gabrielle.
"Hold on," he said, reaching back in the pack. "Got a couple more …. Ah, here they are." He gave Gabrielle two small, rolled pieces of parchment. His mission now accomplished, Daracles looked longingly at the basket of baked goods.
"Help yourself," Gabrielle said absently. She studied with mixed emotions the three missives she’d placed in her lap. She fingered the one with King Cleades’ seal affixed. "Xena," she began, not daring to look at her partner, "You haven’t seen him since …. Gods, he must be in his 70’s now. Might be the coronation of one of his heirs, or a wedding." She finally glanced at Xena, whose dour expression hadn’t changed.
"Peachy. You know how much I love pomp and circumstance." The warrior cut her eyes at Daracles, then Gabrielle. "Talk about taking the romance out of things, I think I’ve been trumped." She stretched and rose. "I’ll let you handle this. I’m going for a swim. Join me when you’re finished." Her voice softened. "Please?"
Gabrielle smiled, knowing they were all better off with Xena in the lake than discussing party arrangements. "Sure. I’d like that."
She watched her partner stroll away, the sunlight glancing off the dark, shiny mane. Except for the silver at her temples, a few more lines on her face, maybe some added thickness around the slender waist, Xena’s appearance hadn’t changed much over the years. Gabrielle chuckled, recognizing that she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. To her, Xena would always be the ageless goddess in white who magically appeared to rescue her with feral grin and breathing fire. Who even now ….
"Gabrielle?"
Xena had stripped down to nothing and was running to dive in the lake, as fluid and powerful as ever.
"Hmmm?"
"Is there anything else?"
Gabrielle focused blankly on the man facing her, having completely forgotten about him. "I’m sorry. What?"
Daracles licked his fingers of the glaze from the sweet roll he’d eaten. "You want me to take a message back to Eve or anything?"
"Um …." Gabrielle glanced down at the notes. "Have another pastry. Let me read these first."
Daracles grinned, happy to oblige.
Gabrielle unrolled the first note, smiling bemusedly as she read it. She frowned at the second note and hastily opened Eve’s to see if there was an explanation. When she’d finished it, she rolled and tapped it against her chin.
"You can go back whenever you’re ready," she instructed Daracles. "Tell Eve we’ll let her know what we’re going to do." She got up and took a few steps toward the lake. "Thanks for bringing these," she said over her shoulder. "Take whatever you’d like to nibble on during your walk back."
"Thanks!" Daracles palmed an apple and headed home.
Xena floated peacefully in the middle of the lake. Gabrielle smiled to herself when she saw the dark head rise, as though sensing the bard’s presence. Gabrielle waved and beckoned the warrior closer.
"You coming in?!" Xena shouted. She plunged under and came up grinning through the streams trickling down her face. "Water’s great!"
"I’d love to, but we need to talk first!"
"Do we have to?!" Xena tread where she was, stubborn reluctance oozing from every exposed pore.
Gabrielle laughed. "We’re old enough not to have to do anything!" She batted her eyelids seductively. "I want to!" She heard "Crap!" even though Xena hadn’t voiced that sentiment. They both knew the warrior couldn’t resist the eye bat. Xena swam slowly to the bank.
"This better be good!"
"You saying I’m not good enough just standing here with nothing to say at all?"
Xena appraised the pleasingly rounded figure. It amazed her how much Gabrielle still reminded her of the cute, feisty girl who’d stood protectively in front of her kinspeople, boldly stating, "Take me!" to the slavers who’d threatened to swoop them up. Little did Xena know she’d be the one to obey that audacious command. Wondering if Gabrielle had been born knowing how to get her way, Xena glowered as she stalked through the shallow water toward her smirking partner.
"Didn’t anybody ever teach you to play fair?"
Gabrielle gathered Xena’s clothes and walked up to grab her wet partner around the waist. "You’ll have to take that up with my mentor. I learned to play by her rules."
"Maybe by her next life, your ‘mentor’ will’ve learned to keep her mouth shut," Xena muttered as the two strolled back to their blanket.
"Heh. I didn’t notice she had a problem with that in this life." Gabrielle took a cloth from their bags and helped Xena dry off. "Sit."
Xena sat. Gabrielle knelt behind her and began rubbing her shoulders.
"Kinda tense there, old girl."
"Mmmm." Xena lowered her head, swinging her hair forward. "You oughtta know, Miss Give It and Take It Away."
"I’m sorry." Gabrielle kissed the back of Xena’s neck. She resumed her massage. "I know how much you wanted us to relax today. I wouldn’t have let a little ol’ party invitation ruin that, unless there was a good reason."
"Yeah," Xena sighed. "I know. Might as well get it over with. I’ll either be mad or make you mad. Whichever, you’ve got your hands around my throat anyway."
"Xeenaa!" Gabrielle rapped the warrior on the head, laughing. "Such a cynic." She handed Xena her clothes. "All done. For now. Put those on before you catch a chill."
The warrior rolled her eyes. "As if. Quit stalling. I’m as relaxed and pliable as I’m gonna get." She started dressing, expecting to endure Gabrielle’s gentle persuasions. She didn’t hear any. Xena narrowed her eyes. "Exactly what kind of party is this?"
Gabrielle ducked her head. "Um, not sure. One where we have to wear costumes?"
"Costumes?! Oh, for …."
"Disguises?"
"Give me that!" Xena snatched the King’s note with an exasperated sigh. "`My dear friends’ … blah blah … ‘long time’ … blah blah … ‘in two weeks at the guest compound’ … blah blah …." Xena brought the note closer to her face. "`Please conceal your true identities, as your attendance is to be a surprise for both you and the other guests.’"
"It gets better." Gabrielle handed Xena a second note. "I don’t think this one’s from Cleades."
Xena took the note suspiciously. "`To who it may be concerned. You go, you DIE.’" She rubbed at a red smudge on the note. "What’s this supposed to be? Blood?"
"It would seem so." Gabrielle studied her partner, not sure she really wanted to see the telltale feigned neutrality that meant Xena’s curiosity had been piqued. "According to Eve, that was concealed inside the King’s invitation. She’s pretty sure the messenger wasn’t aware of it. He said he had several others to deliver."
"Mm." Xena set the mystery note beside her. This party might not be so bad after all. Feeling Gabrielle’s probing eyes, she casually slipped into her shirt. The trick was to appear neutral - gracious about the King’s invitation, but not too enthusiastic about the threat that came with it.
"Xena?"
"Hmmm?"
"Don’t even try it. "
Xena looked at her partner, all innocence. "Beg your pardon?"
"I can already sense your ‘juices’ going, so let’s not waste time pretending you’ve developed a sudden yearning to indulge a possibly dying king’s last wishes."
Xena scowled, but didn’t bother disputing this accusation. "Talk about cynics," she mumbled. "You’d think I didn’t have a social bone in my body."
"I didn’t say that. It’s the people you like ‘socializing’ with that’s the problem." Gabrielle sighed. "For once, why couldn’t a party just be a party? A little gaiety in luxurious surroundings wouldn’t kill us." She snorted. "I take that back. In this case, maybe it would."
Xena grinned. "Nah. We’ve got more lives than a cat. Besides," she added with a gleam in her eyes, "maybe Cleades is the one in danger. Maybe he needs our help. Hmmm?" She waited, confident she had a few tricks in her bag that still worked.
Gabrielle knew full well what Xena was up to, but she acknowledged that the insufferable warrior might have a point.
"Okay, Princess I Hate Parties Except When I Might Have To Risk My Not So Young Butt. What’s your theory on all this?"
Xena picked up the second note, waving it with barely restrained excitement in Gabrielle’s face.
"First, I’d say this is an inside job. Whoever wrote this had access to the King’s invitations. Second, the threat wasn’t addressed specifically to us. It’s very possible others got it too, which could mean it has nothing to do with us. If that’s so, somebody doesn’t want this party to happen at all. Finally, I’d say it’s a good bet the potential party poopers would be news to Cleades." Xena pointedly added the finishing touch. "He’d be a sitting duck."
"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"
"Enjoying someone else’s possible misfortune?" Xena assumed an indignant expression. "I’m devastated, simply devastated, that you think so little of my social graces. I don’t know how you’ve stood me all these years."
Gabrielle ignored Xena’s pitiful act. She sighed as she once again surveyed the remnants of their romantic getaway. In truth, she was more than a little intrigued by the intrigue surrounding the King’s party. It could end up adding some spice to their anniversary - intrigue for her, mayhem for Xena. She could feel Xena’s eyes calculating how long it would take her to give in. Gabrielle leaned forward.
"We follow the King’s instructions about disguising ourselves."
Xena nodded vigorously, her lips pressed in a ridiculously serious line.
"Whatever we do, it’ll be by mutual decision. No sneaking off on your own."
Xena nodded again.
"One more thing." Gabrielle scowled wryly at her cautiously rejuvenated companion. "Happy anniversary."
PART 2
T he covered wagon bumped along, a cloaked figure on the driver’s bench. A voice drifted from inside.
"I still can’t decide which is best."
"Flip a coin."
"There’s more than two, Xena. That’s the problem."
"Then ‘eenie meenie mynie mo’ oughtta do the trick."
Gabrielle didn’t bother gracing that suggestion with a response. She scowled at the clothes spread from one side of the wagon to the other. It had seemed so simple at first. At least, that’s what she’d assured Xena. "Lemuel’s trading shop should have everything we need. We’ll pop in, pop out and be on our way in no time." That was before her cursed imagination started working overtime.
Once inside Lemuel’s, she discovered that nearly every garment she examined reminded her of one of their old adventures. Silks and linen. Fur coats and kimonos. Theater and specialty costumes. She’d figured she’d reprise one of her old roles - maybe the "ghost" when they’d saved the orphanage, Xena’s "sponsor" at that beauty contest, or the unfortunate "queen" she’d been forced to portray the time she got kidnapped and Xena blinded.
She’d eliminated outfits like the one she’d worn in Chin. Too many bad memories. The Egyptian style evoked mixed emotions, since they’d saved Cleopatra the first time, but not the second. Gabrielle chuckled recalling the get-ups she’d worn when pulling that con with the casino owner, getting the gold statue back for Autolycus or freeing Xena from Shark Island Prison. Maybe a sari from India?
Next thing she knew, Xena was breezing by with her packages, snickering, "See you outside?"
Gabrielle had quickly gathered up almost anything not battle related, promising to pay Lemuel when they returned. Bless him, he’d said he wouldn’t charge for what she didn’t use. Unfortunately, that hadn’t solved her problem. She’d hoped to get a hint from Xena, but the warrior’s only response was a smirk. Gabrielle refused to beg, instead huffily packing every possible choice.
"See if I care. Probably going disguised as herself." Gabrielle snorted. "Just older."
"Make up your mind yet? We’ll be camping soon. Should get to the compound sometime tomorrow."
Gabrielle could hear the "told ya so" in Xena’s voice. "Old know-it-all." To Xena she called out, "I’m working on the subtleties. Some of us took this more seriously than others of us." Sometime later, she felt the wagon stop. "Curses," she said, hastily moving everything into semi-neat piles. She pushed back the tarp and stepped down to help Xena set up camp.
"So what’s the plan?" Gabrielle asked when they’d finished their evening meal.
"Not sure yet. Have to see what the compound’s like, how protected it is."
Gabrielle began clearing away their eating utensils. "Wonder who the others are?"
Xena shrugged. "Cleades must think they’ll recognize us, but I can’t imagine who’s left to care."
"Xena!" Gabrielle knelt next to her partner with some excitement. "Do you suppose he knows about our anniversary? Maybe it’s a surprise party for us?"
"Hmmm." The warrior frowned pensively. "Why would he want the guests of honor disguised?"
"He said everybody would be surprised. Maybe they don’t know they’re celebrating us."
Xena snorted. "And here I thought battle strategy was complicated."
"Well, we’ll find out soon enough." Gabrielle shook out her bedroll. She glanced around as though having misplaced something. "Hmmm, now where did I put that comb?" she asked, casually reaching for Xena’s travel bag.
Xena pulled the bag into her lap. "Not in here. Didn’t see it when I took stuff out to make room for my costume." She flashed Gabrielle a "you’ll have to do better than that" look. She patted the bag. "It’ll make a nice pillow, don’t you think?"
"Why, yes," Gabrielle agreed sweetly. She got up and climbed inside the wagon. Mumbling to herself, she grabbed up the first clothes she came to. She stuffed them inside her carry bag and came out to plop down next to Xena. "But not as nice as mine."
*****
Gabrielle wasn’t particularly surprised to find Xena gone the next morning, but ground her teeth nonetheless. It irked her that the warrior’s energy to spring up at the crack of dawn hadn’t lessened one iota over the years. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered her, as it had been a long time since some sneak attack on them had necessitated Xena’s waking her with gushes of water. But her instincts told her the warrior was out there putting on her disguise, that she’d stroll back expecting Gabrielle to be unprepared.
Gabrielle threw back her cover. "We’ll see who’s so smart, Miss Smarty Pants." She strode over to the wagon. "Sometimes I work best under pressure." Sighing at the mess she’d have to choose from, she spread everything out again, pursed her lips and closed her eyes. "Eenie meenie …."
Xena sauntered quietly from behind a tree, a huge grin plastered on her face. As hard as she’d worked on her dark side, she just couldn’t seem to let go of irritating Gabrielle. She’d told herself there were some sinful pleasures that made life worth living - like watching the blush spread across her partner’s face, the heaving of her bosom, those luscious lips press together, that foot that tapped in displeasure. Xena sighed. Gabrielle truly was beautiful when angry.
"Gabrielle? You in there?"
Gabrielle froze momentarily. "Hades." She quickly began changing into whatever she had in her hand. "Yes, I’m in here. Um … putting the finishing touches on my costume. You have a nice walk? Bring back something for breakfast?"
Xena smirked. "Don’t even try it. Fortunately, I’m in the mood to help you out." She jiggled something she had hidden behind her back. "I think the simplest thing is for you to be my …."
Gabrielle threw open the tarp to pose in her costume.
Xena’s brows shot up. "… Senior concubine?"
Gabrielle’s mouth dropped open. If she hadn’t known any better, she might not have recognized her soulmate beneath the turban, goatee, mustache, and pronounced paunch hanging over flowing pants.
"Anthrax? From when you pretended to be Genaia’s father and we got Hermes’ helmet back?"
Xena bowed with a flourish. "At your service, little lady."
Gabrielle reluctantly admitted that Xena had chosen well. Nobody would guess that "Anthrax" was actually …. Suddenly it dawned on her what Xena had said. Concubine?! Gabrielle glanced down at herself. She touched the top of the bodice that came down unexpectedly low over her breasts, the split that nearly dissected the front of the short skirt. She forced a smile.
"You don’t think this is appropriate? This ‘look’ worked well enough that time we helped Ares with his farm."
Xena sucked her lips in, enjoying the moment, but not suicidal enough to show it too much. She stroked her goatee, as though truly giving Gabrielle’s choice consideration.
"Fine. If this shows a little too much imagination for your tastes …."
"No, no, nothing wrong with not leaving too much to the imagination, when you’re trying to fool somebody."
Gabrielle folded her arms across her exposed chest. "Okay, let’s hear your idea."
Xena held up a dark wig. "Um, well, maybe this, a peasant dress, big floppy hat."
"Oh, that’s imaginative. And just who am I supposed to be?"
"My wife?"
Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Oooo, and so original too."
Xena shrugged. "Suit yourself." She turned to kneel beside their bedrolls, mainly so Gabrielle wouldn’t see the grin on her face. "Give me a good excuse for some exercise. You know, fending off any guests who mistake you for the party favors." Xena’s shoulders started shaking despite her best efforts to be good.
Gabrielle’s cheeks reddened. Her bosom heaved, lips pressed, foot tapped. "Tell me again why it is I tried in vain to get you to redeem yourself?"
Xena gazed over her shoulder at the beautifully irritated love of her life. "`Cause you’re a sucker for lost causes and couldn’t help yourself?"
*****
The elevated road offered a view of the castle above, as well as of the guest compound nestled among the trees at the small mountain’s base. The four wings of the main structure formed a rectangular shape. The lush grassy area in the middle featured a flower garden, canopied area and archery range. A large stable stood outside near the main entrance, presumably already hosting some of the horses to several wagons.
"It’s beautiful!"
"I don’t like it."
"What’s not to like? Too peaceful and quiet for you?"
"That, and the fact that I don’t see any guards. A whole army could be in those woods, and you wouldn’t know until they were partying in your face."
The horses shifted restlessly as Xena held them steady while studying the situation.
"Xena, we can’t sit here all day." Gabrielle pointed to the wagons. "I’d say quite a few guests decided to come despite any threats."
Xena longed for the days she could burst in, shimmy down walls or otherwise arrive unannounced. She peeked at Gabrielle out the corner of her eye.
"Absolutely not. Either we camp here until trouble actually appears, or we go down and figure out what to do then."
Xena cut her eyes at her partner. "I might’ve said that, if you’d given me a chance."
"Good. Then we’re agreed. So which is it?"
Xena snapped the reins. "Didn’t realize you’d become so fond of ambushes or getting jumped inside," she groused as they continued down the road to the compound.
"Deny you a chance to show your stuff? Nah."
Xena raised a brow. "What about the danger to my ‘poor, old body’? You suddenly not concerned about that either?"
"Nothing wrong with your senses." Gabrielle smirked. "No doubt you noticed the absence of smoke or flocks of frightened birds indicating the gathering of many humans nearby. At least, not the kind who’d probably use farm wagons and old mules. Or forget to post sentries around." She chuckled at the reaction this provoked. "I figure you’ve decided we have a little time to scope things out and devise a plan later."
"You know, if you’re gonna be my `good little wife,’ you could use some practice. A person could get the wrong idea about who really wears the pants."
Gabrielle reached over to tweak Xena’s mustache. "You forget, I’m a fast learner. How’s this?" She blinked her eyes and fluttered her hands. "Besides, what else could I be, with this virginal dress you talked me into?" She disgustedly flicked the brim of the floppy hat that partially covered her primly knotted brunette wig. "I look like a puppet," she groused, brushing her hand disdainfully over the rouge on her cheeks.
Xena coughed. She carefully formed her next words. "We had to do something drastic. That hair … those abs … and shoulders, triceps, thighs. Why, if we’d let any of those legendary body parts show, it’d be a dead give away." She smiled sweetly.
"You know, if you’re gonna be my handsome - if overweight - husband, it would behoove you not to do anything that might make what’s under this dress a mere memory."
Xena swallowed, wisely sending her retort back down with all the others that might not be good for her health. She couldn’t do anything about the grin, though, so hunched forward, screwing her face up in concentration on their surroundings.
"I’ll be Anthrax’s wife, but I refuse to use that silly name from last time."
Xena studiously kept her eyes on the road. "Spitunia?"
"Ugh. Don’t remind me."
"Aphrodite didn’t mind using it."
"She wouldn’t."
"Whatever, it’s time to get in character. Somebody might be watching."
Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Sure, if they’ve got a telescope." Still, they were close enough not to take any chances. She’d let Xena win this round.
No one seemed to notice when they pulled up to the stable.
"I look okay?" Xena asked as she helped Gabrielle from the wagon.
Gabrielle patted Xena’s unusually soft - and shifty - paunch. "Yeah, long as you don’t let anybody but me hug you."
"Crap." Xena stopped a few feet from the entrance to examine herself. "You think I should - ." Her head jerked up as she heard a scraping sound. A large peephole opened in the door, soon revealing an eye.
"Got an invitation with the King’s seal on it?" a masculine voice asked.
The two visitors exchanged glances.
"Um, sure." Gabrielle fumbled around in her carry bag. "Here …dear," she said demurely, quickly deciding to let Xena do the honors.
Xena suppressed a smirk and took the invitation. She handed it through the hole. A few moments later, the door swung in.
"Can’t be too careful," the man stated. He limped backwards. "Come on in. Name’s Lynal. I’ve got the escort shift for now."
*****
Xena and Gabrielle unpacked their things in their nicely appointed bedchamber. Lynal had dropped them off at their door, hastily explaining that most of the other guests had retired to their rooms until supper, that he’d be back when everyone assembled in a couple of hours. He obviously wasn’t accustomed to playing host. Except for a brief exchange of pleasantries with Xena, he hadn’t encouraged much conversation.
"I think we can safely say he’s not one of the King’s servants." Gabrielle tossed her hat in a corner and walked around the room, inspecting the small tub draped with towels, sliding her hand across the fine linen on the huge bed, smelling the flowers in a silver vase on the nightstand. "But somebody sure knows how to spoil their guests." She sampled the fruit and cheese from an ornate platter which, along with wine and metal goblets, set atop a small table.
Xena stood frowning out a window that opened onto the center garden. "The question is, why no sign of Cleades? Are the guests running the show?"
"Mmm, who cares?" Gabrielle luxuriated contentedly on the bed. "I’d be fine staying right here, ordering in. Our own Anniversary Suite."
The warrior turned and leaned against the wall. "And the possible assassins? We just forget about them?"
"Xena, Xena, Xena." Gabrielle sat up and adjusted her wig. "What do you have against romance that makes you want to stomp its little head whenever it pokes up?"
"As I recall, you’re the one who thought we should come."
"But not just for the mayhem, much as I look forward to that, of course." Gabrielle got up and went over to lean against her partner. "I pictured something like this waiting for us. I hoped there’d be moments to relax - you know, before, in between or after the mayhem."
Xena sighed. She wrapped her arms around Gabrielle. "I’m sorry. It’s just …. We’re not much closer to knowing what’s going on than we were yesterday." She rested her chin on Gabrielle’s head. "What’s Cleades got in common with somebody like Lynal? Is everybody like him? Have they done something worth being killed? His caution about letting us in suggests he knows about the threat. Why isn’t somebody doing more about it, instead of napping like everything’s peachy?"
"Xena?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it likely there’ll be mayhem before Lynal summons us?"
"Not unless the bad guys are already inside." Xena smiled to herself. "And are sneaking around picking folks off as we speak." She reached up, took off her turban and spun it into the corner on top of Gabrielle’s hat. "Which might make sense…." She plucked the pins from Gabrielle’s wig and sent it flying over to join the other head coverings. "If they hadn’t already poisoned supper. Or," she continued, guiding Gabrielle backwards, "maybe hidden big, sharp blades for us to impale ourselves on if we move too much in our beds." She gently pushed Gabrielle down on the potentially deadly piece of furniture. "But since you feel so brave, I suppose we could test that out."
"Xena?"
"Hmmm?"
Gabrielle batted her eyes at her seductively unredeemable soulmate. "Have I mentioned your talent for … practically … squeezing romance out of almost anything?"
PART 3
L ynal pushed open the door to the banquet hall and ushered the latest arrivals inside. The spirited conversation died down among the 25 or so guests.
"Everybody? This is Anthrax and his wife …." Lynal realized he’d learned the name of only half the new couple. He stared questioningly at Gabrielle.
Gabrielle’s mouth worked, but nothing came out.
Xena’s eyes twinkled. She cocked her head at Gabrielle. "Um, honey?"
Lynal nodded and turned back to the room. "Anthrax and his wife, Honey." He failed to notice the two behind him nearly choke.
A tall man strode toward them. "Welcome, Anthrax and Honey. I’m Spiros, self-appointed vice-host. We heard of your arrival. We were waiting for you to join us before we got on with dinner. Please, follow me."
Spiros led the couple to one of the front tables. Xena and Gabrielle nodded and smiled as they passed through the room, quickly noting that everyone was at least 50 or older. Some vaguely familiar. Gabrielle seated herself. Xena stood next to her, wide-legged, arms akimbo, grinning genially as the others gathered round.
"Winston said you looked a little familiar," Spiros began. Others nodded in agreement. "Tell us about yourselves."
Gabrielle smiled deferentially up at Xena.
"Um, well, first let me say it’s mighty fine to meet you all. If some of you good people’re from around … Thessaly … we might’ve crossed paths." Xena rested a hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder. "Honey originally hails from Athens."
"Athens?!" A silver-blond matron leaned forward excitedly. "I love Athens! What plays have you seen?"
"Hold up." A burley man pressed forward. "Afore we git inta chitchat, we best take care a serious business first."
Glad for the lead in, Xena nodded. "I’m with you there, mate. We got a very disturbing note with the King’s invite. Wasn’t sure if the missus would be safe."
"What kind a note?"
Xena rubbed her goatee. "Sorry, friend, didn’t catch your name."
"Winston."
"Well, Winston, I figured from Lynal’s caution that maybe some of you got a warning too."
"We did," confirmed the matron. "Threatening us not to come."
"But most of us did anyway," a stout woman chimed in.
"Uh huh. That’s what I thought. What’s Cleades said about that? Where’re his guards?"
"Cleades had to leave," the matron said. "He doesn’t know - ."
Winston put his hand up to interrupt her. "What’s the passwords?" he asked Xena.
Xena noted the suspicion in his voice. She moved behind Gabrielle’s chair and rested her arms on her partner’s shoulders. Gabrielle got the hint.
"Passwords?" Gabrielle echoed innocently.
"Yeah, what ya s’posed ta say to git in." The big man scowled at Lynal. "Ya didn’t ask `em, did ya?"
"Hey, I said I wasn’t cut out for -."
"Gentlemen!" The matron straightened regally. "Please, mind your manners." She smiled apologetically at Xena and Gabrielle. "Forgive my friends. That note made us a little nervous. You seem like perfectly nice -."
"Nobody’s ‘perfectly’ nice." Winston refused to budge. "Like ya said, we got reason ta be nervous. The rest of us know each other. How do we know these two’re who they say?"
Gabrielle batted her eyes, "We take no offense. Cleades must have forgotten to tell us about the passwords. I’m sure he can clear all this up."
"How’d you meet him?" Winston asked.
Xena gave Gabrielle’s shoulders a little squeeze. She leaned against the table behind her. "The King and I did some business awhile back. I sell fancy wear like this," she said, gesturing at her silky robe-like garment. "I kind of … dropped in … on him."
The room got very quiet.
Spiros had been sitting at the end of the table listening. He stood and folded his arms across his chest. "The King said he met some new members during his travels." At his nod, the other men slowly formed a circle around the table.
Xena maintained her relaxed position. "Fellas, you’re barking up the wrong tree. The wife and I are simple folk, here to enjoy ourselves at the King’s expense."
"I can’t say I’m convinced of that." Spiros looked at the others. A few of the women seemed chagrined by the hostility in the air, but most appeared willing to err on the side of caution. "Perhaps we’ll have to apologize later, but for now it might be best if you stayed in your room. We’ll make sure you’re treated well until we can straighten this out."
Gabrielle gracefully pushed out of her chair. She moved to stand next to Xena. "Anthrax, dear, they’re right to take precautions. You said as much yourself."
Xena gazed down at the imploring eyes that only she knew disguised a command. She put her arm around Gabrielle. "All right … Honey. I know how spats upset you. Wouldn’t do for you to get the vapors and miss out on the party when Cleades returns."
*****
Areus paced angrily in front of his dwindling "troops." Five more had deserted on the march to the outskirts of Cleades’ property. He’d decided to forge ahead, even though his "inside" man, Balthus, hadn’t shown up as planned. Balthus apparently succeeded in his ruse to divert the King’s guards away. At least from Areus’ vantage point some distance from the front, the compound seemed undefended. But Balthus was supposed to come out the day before, to report on the situation and confirm which entrances he could leave unlatched. Dusk was descending with no Balthus in sight.
Areus hefted his battle-ax and flung it into a tree. "Stand down. We’ll wait till nightfall. No fires. I’ll be back before then with your orders." He turned and stalked through the trees in the direction of the backside of the compound. He’d gone a few feet when he whirled to confront whoever was following him.
"Hey, it’s just me. Monlika." The knife-enthusiast put her hands up. "I figured you could use some backup. Somebody who won’t run off with their tail between their legs at the first sign of trouble."
Areus studied her a moment, before turning to continue on.
"I’m still in, even if your guy bugged out."
Areus stopped. "He didn’t ‘bug out.’ You see any guards?"
"No, but you said - ."
"I know what I said! He’d of been here if he could."
Monlika leaned against a tree. "You think they caught `im? Maybe they know and set a trap?"
Areus frowned. He hadn’t considered that. "Balthus is smart. Maybe he couldn’t get away without making `em suspicious." He furtively looked around for something to sit on, irritated at the aches and weariness of being on his feet too long, or the stiffness that beset him if he sat on the ground.
Monlika suppressed a smirk. The old guys in the group had their share of big talk, peppered with tales about past exploits. But judging from their physical condition, they must’ve figured hard drinking and fantasies of revenge would keep them in shape if opportunity ever knocked. She gestured toward a good-sized fallen limb.
"Might as well take a load off. Review the options."
Areus nodded. He sank down in relief on the limb.
"Whatever happened to Balthus, I’d say we need another plan. There’s enough of us younger …." Monlika saw Areus’ nostrils flare. "Um, enough of us to storm the place."
Areus’ lip curled. "Shows how much experience you’ve got. Ever try burning through slate? That’s what’s on the outside of those walls. We’d need a battering ram for the heavy doors." He snickered. "Unless you wanna waste that youthful energy tryin’ to hack your way through."
Monlika snorted. "So we make some noise. No guards’re gonna come runnin’ to the rescue." She chuckled. "Worst we could do is scare half those old folks to death before we had a chance to kill `em."
Areus kept the scowl on his face. It wouldn’t do to let this female upstart think she was smarter than her leader. "I was gettin’ to that. Another day won’t matter. We’ll make the ram before nightfall, attack tomorrow."
"I don’t see why we can’t just -."
"Any scum can be a ragtag mob, screaming and hacking." Areus glared at her disdainfully. "We’ve got traditions to uphold. We’ll go in there professionally. You got different ideas, go find yourself somebody else to do it with."
Monlika pushed off from her tree. "No, I wanna do this right." She waited for Areus to start back.
"You go ahead. Tell the others. I’ve got some more plannin’ to do."
"Yes … sir." Monlika walked away, not for the first time wondering if the grandfather she’d never met was worth joining up with a bunch of idiots.
*****
"`Honey.’ `Vapors.’ I’ll show you some ‘vapors’ all right."
Gabrielle paced about their room, occasionally glancing darkly at Xena. The warrior sat at their table, eating the dinner that had been sent with them.
"Better get some of this before it’s too cold."
"Bunch of old idiots. About to be attacked and they lock up the only two people with wits enough to do anything."
"Hey! Watch who you’re calling ‘old.’ I’m right up there with many of them. Besides, the ‘brains’ of this ‘golden duo’ insisted we not reveal ourselves."
Gabrielle stopped pacing. "Oh, so now I’m fodder for the ‘butt’ of jokes?"
"No, no. Things didn’t work out so bad. There’s a bright side."
"Oh?" Gabrielle’s glower turned to hopeful skepticism. "Like what?"
"Well, we’re confined to the Anniversary Suite, with room service no less." Xena batted her eyes. "Isn’t that what you wanted?"
Gabrielle regarded Xena as if the warrior had suddenly morphed into Callisto. "I don’t believe this."
"What? That I can … ‘practically’ … squeeze romance out of anything? I thought you admired that particular skill."
Gabrielle chewed her lip. Sighing, she dropped into a chair across from Xena. "Gods know I hesitate saying this, but there’s a time and place for romance." She ate a couple of bites. "Mmm, not bad." She took a few more bites, before remembering her train of thought.
"Xena, this is serious. We’re no closer to knowing what’s going on than we were yesterday. What’s Cleades got in common with these people? What could they have done worth being murdered?"
Xena’s eyebrow rose. "I don’t believe this."
"What? That I can be ‘practical’ too?"
"That you’re using my own arguments against me."
"That’s beside the point." Gabrielle grinned. "As my mentor always says, ya gotta be flexible."
Xena glanced up at the ceiling with a "why do I even try" smile. She wiped her hands, stood and went to perch on the edge of the bed.
"Has anybody been killed in their sleep, poisoned or sliced to death with bed blades?"
Gabrielle shook her head.
"No. There are two doors to the outside and two to the garden. Between getting to our chamber and the dining room, we passed all the doors. Were they unlatched?"
"No?"
"No. Very solid, I might add. And the exterior is slate. It’d be hard to break in here quietly."
Gabrielle leaned back in her chair, pondering this information. "But we don’t know for sure there’s no inside person. He could open the doors after everyone’s retired."
"True, but I doubt it. My gut says it’s not one of the guests."
"What about the servants?"
"I didn’t sense anything suspicious about them. Besides, I had in mind someone at a higher level." Xena hunched forward. "See, I think whoever it is managed to convince Cleades to assign his guards elsewhere. I think he - or she - is with Cleades."
"So we don’t need to worry until they get back?"
"Nope. Well … and yes." Xena slid off the bed and began pacing. "Does an attack depend on the inside person? Is Cleades the real target? Will we have a chance to warn him?" She sighed in frustration. "How’re we going to convince these people to listen to us without revealing who we are?"
"Sooo," Gabrielle began, getting up, "you’re saying we’re probably safe for a few more hours, if not the night?"
"Yeah, probably."
"That we’ll probably hear if someone’s breaking in."
"Probably."
"And even if the spy is with Cleades, there are probably some guards protecting the King, right?"
Xena stopped pacing. "Right." Her eyes followed her partner, who had sauntered over to perch on the bed.
"Which means it probably wouldn’t hurt if we waited awhile before figuring out how to talk to the others." She punctuated her conclusion with an eye bat.
"Probably." Xena folded her arms across her chest. "But what would we do in the meantime? We’ve pretty much finished dinner." She lowered her voice suggestively. "Maybe have dessert?"
"Uh huh. I’d say that sounds like an excellent probability."