by LJ Maas
The recruits finally realized they needed to work together. This was the whole reason for Atrius and I putting our bodies through this agony. Officers in training tended to be an arrogant, often immature lot. This little exercise taught them that you had a better chance at victory if you worked with your men. Suddenly two and three of them started banding together for their attacks, and before I could avoid it, I felt my legs swept out from under me.
When my back hit the ground, the impact caused me to lose my short sword, while at the same time; a kick to my hand knocked the other blade a few feet away. The young man smiled in victory, I would tell him later why that was his undoing. I was on my back, trying to regain my breath when he raised his sword in both hands to bring the blade down to my throat. One can only hope in these types of situations that adrenaline doesn’t get the better of the young recruit, and he does indeed, stop the downward motion of his sword, before it pierces your skin. I watched his style and form as the blade came at me, instantly assessing where his weakness lay.
I clapped my hand together, trapping the flat of the blade in between my palms. I moved quickly, before the young man even knew what was happening. With all the strength I could muster in my arms and shoulders, I pushed back and upward sharply. The hilt of his sword came speeding back up at him and cracked him under the chin.
I flipped his sword around, grabbing the hilt, and with just enough spring left in my legs, I jumped up from the ground. The man was still staggering backwards and my jaw tightened in empathy. His whole face probably felt like one huge, exposed nerve as blood spilled from the gash across his chin. I would be surprised if he hadn’t bitten the tip of his tongue off. Dropping to a bent knee squat, I swept one of my long legs into his feet and he toppled to the ground.
One-two-three times, I twirled the broadsword in my hand, screaming out a blood curdling battle cry. The fallen man’s eyes went wide as the blade came down, aiming for his head. At the last heartbeat, I veered right, sinking the blade into the soft turf, barely a hair away from the soldier’s ear. My chest heaved with the exertion, adrenaline pumping throughout my system, and then there were the cheers. The other recruits stood back and applauded.
I immediately motioned for a healer to attend to the fallen boy. As they lead his unsteady figure from the field, he paused in front of me. I wiped my mouth of the water I downed from a nearby waterskin and took the boy’s arm. He smiled, displaying a missing tooth and a bloody grin.
“It was an honor, Lord Conqueror. Everything they say about you is true; you are a mighty warrior. I thought I had you, though.” The young officer shook his head, looking perplexed.
I squeezed his forearm and congratulated him. “You came close, young man. Never let your opponent see the fact that you know you’ve won. I saw that look in your eyes when you raised your sword. The thought of defeat made me try harder.”
“Aye, Lord Conqueror.” He smiled a little shakily, and was taken off the practice field.
The remaining officers gathered around Atrius and I, and we gave a critique of their performance. That’s when I heard it and it made my blood run cold.
* * *
Gabrielle spent a few candlemarks writing in her scrolls after the Conqueror left her, to attend business elsewhere. The young slave already knew when she saw Nicos, what the news was about. She knew, as every other slave in the palace did, her Lord’s clever plan to catch the headman, Demetri. Most free men and women weren’t like her master. They treated slaves like chattel, property to be ignored until it was needed. Because of this, they spoke freely before their slaves, never realizing that intelligent human beings resided within the body of one held in thralldom. Slaves knew more about what was going on in this palace than the Conqueror herself. Gabrielle already knew that Demetri fled. The young woman experienced a jumble of feelings regarding this.
The truth of that man’s actions struck this small slave for very personal reasons, but she never told anyone. Why bother? She was a slave after all, the Lord Conqueror’s slave... well cherished, but a slave nonetheless.
The small blonde now walked the familiar hall on the way to Anya’s rooms. She thought about belonging to Xena and all that she so recently came to know of the Conqueror’s feelings for her. Gabrielle dared not tell her master how hopelessly in love she was with her. For a moment, when they were alone in their room, however, she felt certain that Xena was about to declare that very thing.
Gods, am I losing my mind? Xena the Conqueror, as beautiful as she is, would never fall for the likes of me... Would she? Besides, aren’t you forgetting that you’re her slave?
Gabrielle’s thoughts carried her to last evening. She wept so hard, but when Xena could not profess her feelings, the young slave felt it would be wrong, if not actually dangerous, for her to make the first admission. If the Conqueror were never able to confess to those feelings, then Gabrielle would indeed be committed to a lonely life. Loving and being loved, but never able to speak the words... Gabrielle dreamed, her whole lifetime, of someone saying those words to her. She knew that whatever course Xena chose for their relationship, she would serve and love the Conqueror gladly.
Often her dreams turned prophetic, never in exactly the same way, but since she was a young girl, she would gather snippets from her time in Morpheus’ realm, that would occur in her waking moments. Sometimes, many seasons passed in between the visions, but since she entered the palace, here in Corinth, she began having the most confusing revelations. Never before had she received a premonition from an object, but that happened too. She dreamed the gentleness of this woman, known as the Conqueror, the attentiveness. Gabrielle recently saw Xena proclaim her love to her as they lay together, but being it hadn’t happened, she now questioned the reliability of her dreams. One nightmare, in particular, frightened her beyond imagination. She dismissed it as Morpheus disturbing her sleep, but the disconcerting scenario was repeated on the day she held Xena’s dagger in her hands. Carrying the blade to her master, Gabrielle saw her nightmare again, this time played out in lurid detail in her mind’s eye. She saw Xena, her back facing the small slave, suddenly turn, and thrust the dagger toward the blonde’s throat.
Gabrielle shook off the memories of that mental picture. Right now, she was the happiest she could ever remember being. Xena was very good to her, and the tall woman admitted that there was more between them than merely the relationship involving a master and a slave. Xena made the small blonde’s hopes and dreams come true by giving her the materials, and allowing her the freedom to write. Perhaps, in time, Gabrielle mused, she could persuade the Conqueror herself, to tell of her own life. Xena’s greatest gift hadn’t been material, in Gabrielle’s estimation. The finest present was to give Gabrielle a sense of herself. Some would call it confidence, even pride, but whatever it was, the young slave enjoyed the feeling that she was worth something, if only to her rather uncommunicative master.
The young slave’s deliberations occupied her attention so completely, that she never saw the figure that blocked her path, until she nearly ran into him.
“Ahhh, the Conqueror’s whore.”
The voice stopped Gabrielle in her tracks. She raised a terrified gaze to the man in her path. Her eyes darted throughout the expanse of the hall, as if to find someone who might help her. Athena, please don’t let me die... not yet... not when I’m so close.
“No sense looking for assistance, my pretty whore... you’ll find none willing to help you here.”
Gabrielle observed the look in Demetri’s eyes. She’d seen that look before, a combination of madness and mirth, a volatile mix. Again, she looked around, searching her mind for a way out, even a way to appease. She was so close to Xena. The open-air columns on the second floor led out to a parapet that ran the length of the palace wall. She could hear the sounds of the village and the soldiers training on the field, just below.
Before she had a chance to make a move, Demetri reached out and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing until Gabriel
le began to gasp for air, clawing at his hand. He released his handhold, twirling the girl around, and pulling her against his chest. He pressed his groin into her backside suggestively.
“I’m going to make you mine now, little slave.” He leered.
Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut tight. Men like this had taken her before, but it only hurt for a short time and then it was over. If she gave Demetri what he wanted, perhaps that was all he would do. She felt the man pawing at her chest, trying to pull open the blouse she wore. It wasn’t the rough touch; she’d felt worse, or the idea of being taken against her will; that happened before, too. It was the fire that unexpectedly permeated her entire being. The feeling that this was wrong.
Suddenly, Gabrielle felt the burning come from within. It was like a warmth that started with a little spark, until it was a roaring blaze. She tried to give in and let this happen, tried to separate her mind from her body until the humiliation passed. She couldn’t. From somewhere far off she heard a voice begin to go along with that fire in her belly. The voice told her that she didn’t have to accept this fate; she didn’t deserve to be treated this way. She was, after all the personal slave to the Lord Conqueror. It was happening so quickly, but soon the tiny voice inside turned into Xena’s voice. The things Xena said... taught her...
Let me make this clear, Gabrielle. You belong to me... ... The next time someone... anyone makes advances... touches you in any way, I want you to scream, kick, fight, anything you need to do to get my attention. Then I’ll deal with the situation. Do you understand, Gabrielle... ... That’s right, Gabrielle, you belong to me... ... Don’t you know how to fight back!?
The words Xena said to her swirled about her head in a jumble, phrases, and snatches of conversation that were burned into her memory. Finally, the young slave felt the fire explode into indignation. She did belong to Xena... to Xena and no one else. No one else had this right!
“No!” Gabrielle sank her elbow into Demetri’s ribs and the man released his hold on her arm.
The suddenness of the action, especially coming from this slave, caught the man completely by surprise. He grunted as the elbow caught him sharply a second time.
Kicking back with her heel, Gabrielle felt her foot make contact with his shin. Demetri howled in pain, completely loosing the girl in his grasp. Gabrielle didn’t wait, she ran directly for the outside wall.
She could feel how close Demetri was and she could see that the outside wall was coming to an end. She was running out of territory when at last she looked up across the palace courtyard. There, on the training field, Xena stood with her soldiers. Realizing the penalty for what she had in mind, Gabrielle knew it was either certain punishment, or death at Demetri’s hands. Just as Gabrielle made it to the end of the wall, Demetri was behind her, his arm around her waist pulling her back inside. Her hands refused to let go of the stone ledge, as she cried out with everything that was in her.
“Xeeennnnaaa!” The high-pitched scream echoed off the surrounding walls.
* * *
The sound chilled my bones, and when I looked toward the source of it, I saw Gabrielle leaning over the parapet, Demetri grabbing her and pulling her inside the palace.
I was moving at a dead run before the last echo faded away. I heard the oath Atrius muttered before catching up to me, followed by our class of recruits. All rational thought left me. I couldn’t think or swear; all I could focus on was reaching Gabrielle. I took the stairs three and four at a time on my way up to the second floor.
Demetri was there, cut off by soldiers at the other end of the hall. Suddenly, nearly every soldier in the palace was converging at this point and that worried me. My former headman held Gabrielle to him, a dagger at her throat. If I didn’t get some of these soldiers to back off, Demetri might just kill Gabrielle for the fun of it.
With a quick motion of my hand, we all slowed up, Demetri turning this way and that, Gabrielle struggling against his hold. That rather surprised me, but I guessed that I taught her well. Left with no place else to go, Demetri eventually felt his back against the stone wall. He inched along, until he was in front of a large wooden door, trying the latch to find it secured from the other side.
“You can’t escape, Demetri.” I said evenly. “Might as well as do this as painlessly as possible. Release the girl.” I continued in a calm voice.
“Oh no, Lord Conqueror... ” he began and I saw the glazed over look of lunacy written in his eyes. “You get to watch her bleed to death, first.”
I watched as he pressed the tip of the blade against her slightly, puncturing the skin. A slow, thin line of blood made its way from just under Gabrielle’s chin, trickling down her neck, and into the cleavage hidden below her ripped blouse. She winced, and when she looked up at me, I saw the fear in her eyes.
I never had the time to fight the beast back. All of a sudden, it was there, my darkness all around me, consuming and controlling my actions. The blood on Gabrielle’s neck and the torn state of her clothing sent me spiraling into that abyss. Only this time a very miniscule part of me remained. I would need to be detached, even frigid, to pull this off. I would need all my wits about me, to outwit a madman.
Again, with my hand, I motioned to Atrius, who immediately began whispering instructions. It could only be I, no one else. If I were to save this woman, the only one to ever capture my heart, I would need to gamble with her life. And so, I pushed the last bit of Xena away, embracing all that I grew to detest about myself.
“You don’t honestly believe that I’m simply going to let you walk out of here, do you, Demetri?” I asked as I slowly moved forward.
The man pulled back his hand, exposing Gabrielle’s neck further. “I’ll slit her throat, I swear it!”
“Forget about her.” I replied, casually dismissing her with a wave of my hand. “You’re the one I’m talking about. So, you kill the slave, look around you.” I paused as he did just that. “How do you think it feels to be skinned alive, Demetri?” I asked, an evil grin pulling at my lips.
“She means that much to you, eh?” He grinned now, thinking I cared so much for the girl; I would make his death slow and painful.
“I don’t give a damn about the fucking slave!” I screamed at him. I was now a mere yard away. “You stole from me... ME!”
Suddenly he was confused, I could see it in his eyes. He was wondering if grabbing the girl was a smart move after all. It was as if I was reading his mind. I knew what path his brain would take, before he did. Now, he was thinking that this was a ruse. He would test me.
I stood there, my arms folded against my chest, a malevolent glare burning into him. He raised his hand and I silently prayed to any Gods I hadn’t heartily offended in the last twenty summers, to keep Gabrielle from too much pain, and for her to forgive me when all of this was at an end. He slashed the knife quickly across Gabrielle’s upper arm, where her blouse had been torn away. The young woman cried out in pain at the four-inch slice, which began to bleed heavily.
I simply stood there, every muscle in by body under my command. I didn’t even clench my jaw or change my pattern of breathing... nothing. The beast was as dead to emotion as a corpse and it had full reign now. I blinked emotionless eyes and saw the man’s growing terror in his own. Yet, he still wasn’t sure.
“I’ll kill her!” He stated, with much less passion than before.
“Kill her then.” I responded flatly.
“I’ll do it!” he was hysterical now and rightly so. He saw it all coming to an end, and wondered how he miscalculated so badly.
“Did you hear me?” I shouted at the top of my voice, turning my back on the madman, raising my hands into the air for effect. “Kill the bitch!”
“What?” Demetri gasped aloud.
There would only be this one chance and as I sit here writing about it, I know it sounds as if it took an eternity to accomplish, but nothing could be further from the truth. It all took but the blink of an eye. I knew... rather the beast knew
what Demetri’s actions would be. It was an otherworldly sense, whether an accident at my birth or a curse from the Gods, I would likely never know.
Demetri paused for a heartbeat, wondering how his plan had gone so horribly wrong. He lowered the hand slightly, that held the knife to Gabrielle’s throat, and it was in that one heartbeat; that one wrinkle in time, that I realized I had to make my move.
My back still facing the madman, I turned. As I made that turn I brought my hand up to my belt, and with one swift motion, I pulled my ever-present dagger from its resting place. My motion was quick, too fast to stop or to be anticipated by the victim. Since I’d had my back facing him, I couldn’t be certain of where he stood, I could only sense it. The entire time, I prayed that Gabrielle was as quick as I gave her credit for.
It all happened in one, seemingly effortless, motion. My weapon hand led the way, and as my body turned, the dagger headed straight for Gabrielle. Gods, this girl is truly the other half of my soul, I remember thinking, as she jerked her head to one side, allowing my blade to plunge into Demetri’s throat.
His knife clattered to the stone floor and I could remember using all my might to press the dagger into his neck. He coughed and gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head, blood spattering over both Gabrielle and I. I remember my whole body shaking as I continued to press the blade into him, even though it would go no further. I heard sounds all around me, but I was caught in the lingering grasp of power. The only thing circling my mind was that this man tried to take what was mine.
I sensed a hand on my arm, and felt a growl rumbling up through my chest.
“Gabrielle, no!” I heard my Captain’s voice, but the hand around my forearm squeezed.