Turning Berserk

General Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction based on the television series Xena: Warrior Princess. All characters, locations, quotes, etc. borrowed from the show belong strictly to the original creators and whomsoever holds the ultimate copyrights. There is no intention of copyright infringement or profit wherein this fan fiction is concerned. The remaining ideas, storyline, characters, etc. are but a figment of my fevered mind and I will bear full responsibility for them.

Other Disclaimers:

Violence is inevitable and may even be overly graphic since a certain Warrior Princess is involved hence anyone who may be uncomfortable with such depictions is advised to avoid reading the story herein.

The story depicts a loving relationship between two consenting adult women and as such contain descriptions of a sexual nature, graphic and otherwise. In the event you are under the legal age wherever you may reside to be exposed to such contents or it is illegal in your country, please do not read any further. If a loving sexual relationship between two adults of the same gender makes you uncomfortable in any way, you might want to give this story a miss.

Please note that I will not be responsible for any trauma resulting from a failure to heed any of my warnings above.

Author's note: After everything the dynamic duo have been through, I figured it would only be natural for Gabrielle to suffer from some form of PTSD. This is me exploring how that would look like. Elsewise, there are quite a few references and direct quotes from episodes of the original show so the usual spoiler alerts apply. - CM

Xena stopped Argo with a click of her tongue. She swung out of her saddle and dropped down to her haunches. Right in front of her was the faint but unmistakeable imprint of a hobnailed sole, the last thing Xena was expecting to find in this part of Greece. The print belonged to a Roman caliga, the standard footwear of the Roman legionary—the mainstay of the Roman army. Next to the print, slightly overlapping it, was another, similar yet different. The hobnails on this print were arranged in a rough diamond shape on both the ball and the heel of the sole, with a line of hobnails along the sides. There were more footprints stretching off to the right; enough that Xena was convinced there was a full strength Roman century in the area. Strangely enough, there were also a number of hoof prints scattered amongst the footprints.

Roman soldiers were rarely seen in these parts and there was a good reason for that. The nearest Roman fortress was a full eight or nine days march away. Since the legionaries stationed in these fortresses could be activated and deployed at any time, they rarely travelled more than a day or two away from their base.

This Roman century appeared to have come from Maroneia, a major city situated on the coastline of Eastern Macedonia or Western Thrace, depending on whom you asked. The bustling port city was well-known for its worship of Dionysus and its production of Ismarian wine. The latter was rumoured to so strong that a mere whiff of its nectar sweet scent could turn a teetotaller into a stumbling drunk.

Xena had tried this drink of Dionysus a couple of times before. It was sweet, as sweet as undiluted honey—which was too sweet for Xena’s taste. But it was undeniably potent. While most wines were watered down with three parts of water, Ismarian wine was usually mixed with twenty parts of water. Generally, Xena liked her wines neat but she made an exception for Ismarian wine, diluting it with at least five parts of water before imbibing; not because of how strong it was, though it did provide a powerful buzz, but because of its sheer sweetness. As Xena recalled, she’d lost a tooth and was left with the mother of all toothaches the one and only time she’d drank the wine straight from the amphora.

The wine, however, wasn’t why the legionaries had been sent to Maroneia. Nor had they been sent for any goods, for that matter. If they had, they would have needed wagons and carts for the transportation. Laden with wine or goods, the wheels would have left visible grooves in the ground, even in the packed dirt.

Xena hadn’t spotted any wheel tracks but the hoof prints made her believe the soldiers were transporting horses—or, at the very least, escorting them. Roman legionaries rarely travelled with horses. They used pack donkeys for their supplies. The hooves of a donkey were narrower while those of a horse were rounder and fuller. Xena knew her hoof prints and these definitely belonged to the latter. And while there were mounted officers within the legion, they were usually higher ranking officers from the Roman equestrian or senatorial class. Their horses were always shod with metal shoes. They would not have left hoof prints.

With the majority of the Roman cavalry outsourced to their foreign allies and the equestrian and senatorial classes paying for their own mounts and equipment, the Roman army had no real need of horses. Which meant the horses were either a tribute, a gift, or a bribe. Since Maroneia was a free city that owed neither tribute nor allegiance to Rome, it had to be one of the latter two.

Normally, Xena had no interest in Roman politics. But with Otrera and the Amazons headed this way, she needed to make sure the soldiers wouldn’t be a problem—potential or otherwise.

She rose to her feet. “Looks like we need to go find ourselves some Romans.” Xena told her trusty steed. She pulled herself up into the saddle and they headed due north at a canter.

***

They didn’t travel far before she heard the hubbub of an army field camp up ahead. The familiar sounds of clanking metal accompanied by the muted chatter of a hundred men transported Xena back in time—to her early days with Lyceus, and the men and women of Amphipolis she’d convinced to rally and fight against the warlord Cortese. They had been few in number but steadfast in their conviction. Or so Xena had believed. In the end, they had scattered like chickens before a fox. And Lyceus had paid for her naivety with his life.

Every year, on the anniversary of his death, she would make a pilgrimage to the temple of the Fates to remember her brother. This year she had not been able to do so. The three Fates—the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone, had been missing since Gabrielle took a torch to their loom shortly before their trip to Jappa. It was presumed that the three Fates had joined the rest of the Olympians in the underworld—wherever it was that gods went when they died. Even if they had survived the loss of their loom, Xena highly doubted the Fates would welcome her with open arms.

Instead, she had gone fishing. It was a shared passion of theirs, Lyceus and her. She had set up an extra rod and spent the whole day reminiscing and talking to Lyceus about everything that had happened in the past year. By the end of the day, she hadn’t caught a thing—probably because she hadn’t used any bait. But it was more about spending time remembering her younger brother than it was about the actual fishing.

When Xena left the fishing spot, she’d felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was an improvement from the years prior where she’d left the temple feeling more sombre than when she’d arrived. Moving forward, Xena planned to make it a family affair. Not Eve, since she was travelling the world spreading the word of Eli. But certainly Gabrielle and their as yet unborn child—who would be a newborn when the next anniversary of Lyceus’ death came around.

All these years later, she still missed her brother dearly. But this was neither the time nor place to reminisce or daydream. Xena left Argo in a stand of trees and continued on foot, sticking to the underbrush where possible and darting from cover to cover when necessary. Soon, the Roman camp came into sight. It was different from how Xena had envisioned it.

There was no palisade surrounding the camp, nor were there any fortifications or tents. The camp itself was laid out in the shape of a rectangle, with four contubernia on the longer sides, and two contubernia on the shorter sides. Each contubernium was sat around their own campfire, above which hung a standard issue iron pot. Their cloaks were spread out on the ground to serve as temporary bedrolls. A servant tended to each iron pot, adding water, flour, and various ingredients into the pot to make puls, a staple food of the Roman army.

In a standard Roman camp, the commanding officers, which in this case would be the centurion and his optio, would be housed in a tent smack dab in the middle. Here, instead of a tent, there were actual bedrolls which the servants had laid out in military precision. At the rear, downwind from the camp, a corral had been erected to secure the horses for the night. Next to it was the trench that would serve as a latrine for the night. Come morning, when the century broke camp, it would be filled up with dirt.

Sentries had been posted around the camp with guards patrolling regularly around the perimeter. No pass phrase had been set, probably because everyone knew everyone else in the century. There was no danger of a stranger sneaking in amongst them unnoticed, not that the legionaries were particularly worried about the possibility. They had secured the perimeter before making camp, ensuring that there wasn’t anyone in the vicinity. And they were in an isolated region which saw little human traffic. There was little reason to believe they would be disturbed in any way. But if they had paid a little more attention, maybe they would have noticed that there was someone out there—watching them.

***

From her vantage point up amongst the branches of a tree to the south-west, Xena had a bird’s-eye view of the camp. The Roman army was well-known for its strict discipline. This meant that everything had to be performed and carried out to the exacting standards required of them—including how a camp should be constructed. Viewed from that lens, the absence of a rampart, or palisade, or any fortification in general was particularly egregious. Without them, the camp was vulnerable to attacks from hostile forces or sabotage by bad actors. It would stand to reason then, that the commanding officer of the century must be either a novice, or a pompous idiot.

But that wasn’t how Xena saw it. To an ex-warlord who’d led her share of men and who knew more than a little about the thought processes that went into the layout of a military camp, the way the camp had been meticulously planned spoke to someone who was not only experienced in military matters, but also not afraid to deviate from the tried and tested.

They were deep within Roman territory, where defensive structures weren’t so much a necessity as they were pointless busy work. Here, there were no enemy troops to defend against. And it was unlikely that any bandits, raiders, or slavers in these parts would be foolish enough to attack a camp of Rome’s finest soldiers. Even if they were, the Roman legionaries would be able to see them coming from a mile away.

The absence of tents in the camp, was another stroke of genius. Tents often created blind spots where someone could hide undetected. Xena herself had utilised this to her own advantage in the past, leading a small team of men into the camps of her enemies and striking them down while they slept. The tents, especially those huge billowy ones, could hide a small army in their shadows alone. By employing a truly open camp concept, anything happening in the camp would be visible to everyone, making it nearly impossible for an intruder to get close, much less sneak past the camp perimeter undetected.

Not that Xena had any intention of sneaking into the camp. She could if the need arose but there was another way. The commanding officer of the century was a battle-hardened veteran who had risen from the ranks. Someone like that would want to personally inspect everything under his command—including the horses. The horse corral was located at the back of the camp, right up against the trees.

It would be easy enough to make her way to the corral and eavesdrop without alerting the Romans to her presence. There, alone with his second-in-command, and out of earshot of the rank and file, the centurion would be more likely to divulge information and discuss sensitive issues that he wouldn’t in the camp itself. Hopefully, that would give her all the information she needed. But if it didn’t, the corral was her best opportunity to get the centurion alone and strong arm the information out of him. Obviously, that would be her very last resort. Xena had no intention of stirring up the hornet’s nest when the first group of Amazons were due to arrive in the next few days.

She watched the camp a moment longer, tracking the centurion—trailed by his optio—as he inspected each contubernium. Once they passed the midpoint of the camp, Xena dropped silently to the ground and headed for the corral. A lone legionary, tasked with guarding the horses, stood loosely at attention outside. From time to time, he raised his hand to swat at the swarm of mosquitoes buzzing around him. When Xena neared the corral, she slowed, licked her index finger and raised it in the air to check the direction of the wind. These were not wild horses so they were unlikely to spook at her scent. But it was always better to be safe than sorry. She circled to the back of the corral, staying downwind from the horses while she crept as close as the undergrowth permitted. Then Xena hunkered down to wait.

***

The arrival of the centurion was preceded by the rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of a vine cane being slapped against a callused palm. At the front of the corral, the legionary on guard duty snapped to attention, his back ramrod straight, his right hand clenched into a fist over his heart and his eyes staring straight ahead. “Centurion!”

“At ease, Legionary Gaius.”

A squat powerful figure of a man strode into Xena’s view, his huge veined hands wrapped casually around the vine cane that denoted his position. He looked to be in his early forties, just a few years short of retirement. A white puckered scar ran from above his left eyebrow and slanted up across his forehead before vanishing under his hairline. His military style close-cropped hair was beginning to grey around the edges.

He wore a gold torc around his neck and golden armillae on his wrists. The gold torc was one of the highest forms of recognition that a Roman soldier could receive and was only awarded to those who’d demonstrated great valour in battle. Yet, despite all of his achievements, as someone who had risen up the ranks and had no political affiliation, it was highly unlikely that he would ever reach the rank of Primus Pilus or attain equestrian status. Which made Xena wonder if he’d been selected to lead this mission for another reason altogether.

The centurion turned to address someone behind him. “Lucius, what’re you waiting for? This is your area of expertise, not mine.” He was tempted to add a crude remark but reined it in at the last moment. They were not alone. In front of the men, he had a reputation to maintain. It was what kept the men in line. That—and his vine cane.

In response, a wiry man in his late twenties, presumably Optio Lucius, stepped up beside the centurion and quipped. “Two years as a farmhand doesn’t make me an expert.”

A light tap of the centurion’s vine cane on his breastplate quickly shut him up. He had served with the centurion long enough to recognise the warning for what it was. While the centurion wasn’t as liberal with his vine cane as some of the other centurions in the legion, he didn’t suffer fools gladly and would not tolerate any challenge to his authority. A careless remark could be perceived as insubordination, especially in front of the men. And insubordination had to be punished. If Lucius wasn’t careful here, he could find himself demoted back to the rank and file.

The centurion instructed the legionary to remain on guard at the entrance of the corral while he and the optio carried out their inspection of the horses inside. The two officers made their way to the back of the corral and Lucius got down to work inspecting the horses. He ran his hands over their coats, examined their hooves and legs, peered inside their mouths, and lifted their tails to check for signs of diarrhoea.

For someone who had only two years of experience as a farmhand, Lucius certainly looked like he knew what he was doing. What he didn’t know though, was what these horses were for. The centurion had briefed him on the mission but left out most of the details. So Lucius took a stab in the dark. “These horses. They’re a gift for the legate?”

The centurion confirmed his not-so-wild guess. “From Senator Maximus. Pulled a few strings with the legate to get his son appointed to our legion as senior tribune. Way he messed up his last posting? No one would take him. If his military career ended in disgrace, he’d never make the Senate.”

Lucius wasn’t too pleased with the news. No one wanted a senior tribune who was either incompetent or headstrong. Someone like that could get a lot of soldiers killed. And that was the last thing any career soldier wanted—for their life to end on the battlefield when there was no glory to be had. “Lucky us.”

The centurion didn’t seem too bothered. “The legate knows his business. I wouldn’t worry about it overly much.”

If the centurion wasn’t worried, Lucius figured there was no reason for him to worry either. “I heard there’s been a recall?”

“Joint inspection with the new senior tribune. Everyone will get to turn out in their parade best.”

From there, the conversation quickly devolved into common army gossip. While entertaining in and of itself, Xena wasn’t about to listen to the two men go on and on about prostitutes and sexually transmitted diseases. She’d gotten the information she’d come for and was contemplating leaving when the centurion cut his optio off mid-sentence.

“Lucius, there’re supposed to be 15. I counted 16. Did you tally them against the merchant’s log?”

“I checked them off personally in Maroneia. It should be correct.” Lucius dusted himself off and stood up. “Anyway, that’s the last one. Nothing wrong with the lot.”

He reached his hand into his satchel and pulled out a sheaf of documents. He quickly found the one he was looking for. “Let’s see…” Log in hand, he systematically went about checking off each horse.

More than halfway through, he stopped at a grey gelding, his thick brows drawn together into a frown. “This isn’t on the list.” He slipped a lasso around the gelding’s neck, secured it to a post to stop it wandering off and continued checking the other horses.

When he was done, he returned to the centurion. “That’s the odd one out. Maybe he slipped in with the rest of the horses on our way here?”

“More like someone snuck him in.” The centurion countered.

The two men stopped in front of the horse in question.

Lucius looked at his commanding officer quizzically. “Why though? It’s not like the legate’s gonna mind an extra horse.”

“He might…” The centurion trailed off. “Lucius, what can you tell me about this horse?”

“Grey gelding. Looks to be about 5 years old. In good health. Nothing really stands out. It’s native to these parts.”

A half-formed memory niggled at the edge of the centurion’s mind. There had been an incident involving his legate and a horse… If only he could remember what it was. It could be important. “What kind of horse is it?”

“It’s an Arravani. This one has some Roman blood in it.”

The centurion tapped the side of his face thoughtfully. “Do you remember the stories we heard about the legate being at the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t he a tribune under Legate Numonius Vala?”

“I remembered there was something about a horse…” The centurion said, hoping that the younger man’s memory would be better than his when it came to the backstory of the legion’s commanding officer.

Lucius was silent for a moment and then it dawned on him—the connection they had been missing. “That’s right. It was an Arravani. The horse saved his life by running from battle.”

“And he was forced to return to Rome in disgrace. Even though he managed to redeem himself by recapturing his legion’s lost standard, that was a permanent blemish on his military record.” The centurion nodded to the grey gelding. “Legate’s not going to be too happy with the senator if he sees this.”

“What should we do with it?” Lucius asked.

“Let it go. We can’t bring it back with us. And it won’t do us any good getting any more involved in whatever is going on.” The centurion replied.

Lucius reached for the end of the lasso. “I’ll do it.”

***

Xena slipped away, having heard enough. The centurion’s decision to nip things in the bud by getting rid of the horse was a smart one. It would absolve him of all blame and also protect him and his men from any potential fall-out. Since neither the legate nor the senator would ever learn about this attempt at subterfuge, there would not be any reason for Roman soldiers to return to Maroneia or its vicinity—any time soon. That was one less thing for the Amazons to worry about.

Getting the Amazons out of Greece unnoticed wasn’t an easy task. Even decimated and hunted to near extinction as they had been, the Amazons still numbered more than three hundred strong. And there was the Queen’s Guard, the one hundred warriors who had accompanied Otrera from the Scythian steppes. All in all, that was almost five hundred warriors, and nearly two score and ten children aged nine years and below.

Xena had not been privy to the discussions or the preparations but she’d been kept abreast of the proceedings by Gabrielle, whose status as an Amazon queen automatically granted her a seat on the Amazon Council. The plan they had settled on, was simple. To avoid calling attention to their exodus from their ancestral lands, the Amazons would depart in small bands of ten or less. They would travel light, bringing with them only what they could carry in their packs. Some would disguise themselves as villagers—as sisters, mothers and daughters travelling across Greece purportedly to visit distant relatives.

Bringing up the rear, would be Otrera and her personal guards. They had their own mounts and would be transporting whatever the Amazons deemed too important to leave behind but was too bulky to fit into a travel pack. Ci Nu, the envoy of the oriental dragons would also be travelling with them. As foreigners, they were more likely to be mistaken for a mercenary army than to be linked to the Amazons so it made sense for them to travel together.

Xena had been expecting to travel with this last group but wasn’t surprised when Gabrielle told her they would be serving as advance scouts instead. Someone had apparently decided that it would be prudent to put some space between Gabrielle and Otrera. The tension between the two women had been palpable, especially in the days immediately preceding their departure. If they were to travel together, it would only be a matter of time before things came to a head.

Otrera had been Xena’s lover once—a long time ago. For Xena, it felt like a different lifetime altogether. But for an immortal, the three decades in between probably felt more like three days. When Xena had met with Otrera alone in the Queen’s hut, there had been real pain there. And when Otrera’s mask had slipped, albeit briefly, Xena had seen herself mirrored back at her. They were very similar, Otrera and she. Both of them were deeply reserved, but once they gave their heart to someone, they loved so fiercely and so passionately that losing the person they loved caused them to lose themselves as well.

Xena hadn’t meant to hurt Otrera. She had been too busy battling her own demons to recognise that she was more than just a roll in the hay for the daughter of Gaea. Not that there was any chance of them picking up where they had left off. Gabrielle was her soulmate, the mother of her unborn child, and the love of her life. There was no ambiguity there. But that didn’t mean Gabrielle didn’t feel some kind of jealousy towards her ex-lover. Hopefully, the time apart would do both of them some good.

The stand of trees where Xena had left Argo was close by and she was keen to return to camp where Gabrielle would have dinner waiting. But before she did that, there was something she needed to deal with. Someone, or rather something, was following her. Xena had been deliberately ignoring its presence to try to draw it in. And it had worked. She turned around slowly and came face to face with a grey gelding, the same grey gelding that the Romans had turned out of their corral. It instinctively took a few steps back and regarded Xena cautiously.

“You followed my scent, eh? Guess you didn’t want to be out here by your lonesome.” Xena said.

At her voice, the gelding took a tentative step forward, its head outstretched, its nostrils flared. When Xena didn’t respond, it took another step forward, then another, until its nose was right up against her breastplate. Then it began sniffing. When it was satisfied, it raised its head and blew a gust of hot breath straight into Xena’s face.

“Well, hello to you too.” Xena said, blowing her own breath into the gelding’s nostrils in greeting. When it started nuzzling at her neck, she pushed it firmly away and said, “I already have a horse. Her name’s Argo.”

The gelding appeared dejected at Xena’s rejection.

“Look, you can come with us. Gabrielle needs a horse. If you can win her over, you can stay. How does that sound?”

The gelding huffed, supposedly in affirmation.

“C’mon then. I’ll introduce you to Argo.” Xena said, leading the way.

***

The campsite they had chosen was one they’d used before in their travels. It was a small but cosy clearing, about half a day’s walk from the city of Maroneia. At the northern end, a plump hare hung roasting on a spit over a small campfire. A few conveniently placed boulders around the campfire appeared to function as either tables or chairs, depending on their height. On one of the taller boulders was a carved wooden bowl with a bundle of herbs steeped in a golden brown liquid. On the ground nearby, next to one of the smaller boulders, a tan backpack lay with its top wide open.

A shallow stream bisected the north-east corner of the clearing, supplying the camp with fresh water. At the southern end, upwind from the fire, two bedrolls had been carefully rolled out with their corresponding bed furs placed neatly on top.

Gabrielle bent over the spit, checking on dinner. The parts of the hare that were exposed to the campfire had turned a deep golden brown, with some light charring where the flames were strongest. She turned and picked up the carved wooden bowl from the boulder. It contained a mixture of olive oil and honey. Using the bundle of rosemary and thyme like a brush, Gabrielle basted the other side of the hare liberally with the mixture before turning the spit over.

It had been more than three hours since Xena had left. Night had already fallen and Gabrielle couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before her soulmate returned. Dinner would be ready soon. She wasn’t particularly worried though. Thanks to their soul-link, they were never truly out of contact and she could track Xena at any time if she wanted to. It gave Gabrielle a peace of mind that she never truly had in the past.

Early in their travels, Gabrielle was often left behind, sick with worry—wondering if Xena would return for her or if the warrior was dead or dying somewhere and in serious need of her assistance. That worry never truly left her, even in the later years. There had been Xena’s abrupt departure for the Norse Lands, leaving Gabrielle to somehow follow her trail; a trail she’d lost more than once and might not have picked up again if it weren’t for the help of the locals. And then there was Jappa. Gabrielle still couldn’t think about it without seeing her soulmate’s headless body hanging from the trees.

She checked on the hare once more. It was almost done. She took some plates out of her backpack and was turning towards the stream when she heard footsteps approaching the camp. Gabrielle straightened up, set aside the plates and went to greet her soulmate.

Xena stepped out from the trees, leading Argo by the reins. She leaned down to greet Gabrielle with a kiss and asked cheekily, “Missed me?”

“You wish.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “You’re just in time for dinner.” It was then that the grey gelding stepped into her view. “Oh, hello…” She looked askance at Xena.

Xena gave her the brief backstory and finished by saying, “You needed a horse. He wanted a home. Could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Why don’t you two get acquainted? I’ll see to Argo.”

***

Xena cut the hare into quarters then tore off the hind leg from her share and handed it to Gabrielle. They were seated side by side on a long low rock, their hips touching.

“We’ll need to get him some tack in Maroneia. Shoes too.” Xena bit off a healthy chunk from her portion of hare and asked in between bites, “Have you thought of a name for him?”

Gabrielle didn’t even hesitate. “Jason.”

“Is that the name of one of your boy crushes? I don’t remember there being a Jason.”

Gabrielle gave her soulmate a playful swat on the arm. “I never had a crush named Jason. Not that I would name a horse after one of my them.”

“You just pull the name out of the air?” Xena asked, drawing imaginary circles in the air.

“No…” Gabrielle didn’t elaborate further so the pair continued eating their dinner in silence.

When Xena had gnawed the last of the meat from the bone, she threw it into the fire. She listened to the sizzle, crackle and pop of the campfire for a brief moment before tearing off the foreleg. This, she offered to Gabrielle.“You want this?”

Gabrielle looked at the plate where her half of the hare still lay untouched. Her appetite had increased greatly since her pregnancy and she’d noticed Xena pushing food to her time and again. Gabrielle appreciated the gesture but she was worried that her soulmate might not have enough for herself. “I had a snack earlier, Xena. You can have it.”

“I’ll leave it here then.” Xena said, placing the foreleg back onto the plate.

“Xena…”

Xena grabbed the remainder of her half of the hare and raised it up with both hands. “I have my hands full.”

Gabrielle dropped the remains of the hind leg into the fire and tore off another, this time from her own portion. She was happily chowing down when Xena spoke again.

“Jason’s a funny name for a horse.”

“Would it make you happier if I called him ‘Horsey’?”

“That would be worse.” Xena admitted. But she couldn’t let it go. “Why Jason?”

“You know Jason and the Argonauts?”

Xena shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“The golden fleece?”

“The son of Aeson?”

“Yes, that Jason. His ship was the Argo. Isn’t that where you got the name for Argo?”

“No.” This time, it was Xena who chose not to elaborate further.

Undeterred, Gabrielle continued, “It doesn’t matter. Jason and Argo. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it. I think it’s perfect.”

“If you’re a bard or a playwright…” Xena muttered under her breath. Noticing Gabrielle’s glare, she said aloud, “Gabrielle, s’long as you’re happy, you can name him whatever you want. He’s your horse.”

Gabrielle broke into a smile. “Looks like we’re going to be a two horse family again.”

“Couldn’t come at a better time too.” Xena said.

Gabrielle was ten weeks pregnant, give or take a few days. While she hadn’t begun to show, she had been experiencing mild breathlessness and needed more frequent breaks than they had been used to. Xena had adjusted their travel schedule accordingly but with thousands of miles still to go before they arrived back in Chin, it was only a matter of time before travelling on foot became impractical as Gabrielle’s pregnancy progressed.

They had originally planned to purchase a horse in Maroneia. Or at least Xena had. Gabrielle hadn’t been so sure. She felt that it was too early in her pregnancy to be treated like an invalid. Xena didn’t see it the same way. To Xena, it was better to have a horse and not need it, than to need a horse and not have one. Besides, the next big city after Maroneia, was Byzantium. And that was more than ten days away by foot. A lot could happen in that time.

Usually, Xena was the biggest risk taker of all. But not when it came to Gabrielle and their unborn child. This child, this precious child, was their one chance to put all the heartache of their previous children behind them and start anew. Xena would not, and could not, let anything happen to this child. Or, for that matter, to Gabrielle. It was a good thing that the gelding happened along when it did—a very good thing.

***

After dinner, Xena went to check on the gelding to make sure it was settling in well. It greeted her with a friendly whinny and leaned in for a face rub. Nearby, Argo stomped her foreleg and gave a warning squeal before forcibly inserting herself between the gelding and Xena. Chastened, the gelding lowered its head and backed away with a soft rumble of apology.

Xena couldn’t help but grin at the look of triumph on Argo’s face. The palomino mare was as fiercely possessive of Xena as the warrior was of the mare. She stroked Argo’s face affectionately and said, “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s just being friendly.”

“I heard Argo squeal.” Gabrielle said, coming up behind them and slipping an arm around Xena’s waist. “Is she okay?”

Xena wrapped her free hand around her soulmate and pulled her close. “Argo’s fine. She wasn’t too happy about how cosy our new friend was getting with me.”

“Don’t worry, Argo. Xena’s a one-horse woman. You’re the only horse for her.” Gabrielle said, laying a reassuring hand on the mare’s muscular neck.

Argo snorted then tossed her head towards the gelding. Gabrielle took the hint. She extricated herself from Xena’s side and approached the gelding. This time, it glanced at Argo before cautiously taking a step forward to greet Gabrielle.

“It’s alright, Jason.” Gabrielle said encouragingly. “Here boy.” She reached out to rub the gelding on the side of its face, eliciting a contented little nicker from it.

The gelding was 15 hands tall, more than a hand shorter than Argo. That made him perfect for Gabrielle, who loved horses but thought Argo was too tall. She lavished the gelding with a little more affection before pulling it close and whispering into the ear closest to her, “If this is going to work, you need to stay on Argo’s good side. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Behave.” Xena told Argo quietly as Gabrielle’s hand slipped into hers. Hand in hand, they returned to their campsite.

They stopped in front of the campfire to retrieve their backpacks and deposited them on their respective sides of the bedrolls—Xena on the left and Gabrielle on the right.

Xena tucked her sword and chakram under the bedroll before turning to her soulmate. “Foot rub?”

“Not tonight. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed tomorrow though.” Gabrielle said. She fluffed up the bed furs she was using as a pillow and repositioned them more comfortably under her head.

“We’ve only been on the road five days and you’ve already had enough of sleeping on the ground?”

“I can’t seem to get comfortable.” Gabrielle explained. She wriggled around on her back then tried lying on her stomach. When that didn’t work, she pulled Xena down beside her, lifted the warrior’s right arm and snuggled up against her. A few minutes later, she rolled onto her back and stared up into the clear night sky, clearly frustrated.

“Too warm?” Xena asked.

“You need a bath.” Gabrielle replied drolly. “And yes, it’s too warm. I never had problems falling asleep before.”

Xena propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at Gabrielle. “Maybe we should both get a bath.”

Gabrielle shot her soulmate an incredulous look. “Xena, are you saying I smell?”

Xena chuckled. “No, silly. I am saying a bath would cool you down.”

“I’m not going to sleep with my hair wet.” Gabrielle protested.

“How about I get you all hot and bothered then?” Xena said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“How’s that supposed to help?”

“Let me worry about that.” Xena bent down and kissed her, their lips making the briefest of contact before separating.

“I think you have to do better than that.” Gabrielle said, opening her eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Xena asked.

“It’s not a no.” Gabrielle said.

“Good enough for me.” Xena got to her knees, swung her leg over Gabrielle and leaned in for another kiss, this time with more feeling and more passion.

There was nothing Xena wanted more in that moment than to strip her soulmate naked and feel the delicious heat of all that bare skin against hers. She wanted to suckle at Gabrielle’s not so unsubstantial breasts and mark them with her teeth. Above all else, she wanted to worship at the altar of Gabrielle’s womanhood until her soulmate bucked and thrashed beneath her, screaming out her name.

But this moment was not about Xena or her desires. This moment was solely about Gabrielle and what she needed. So Xena worked her magic, until she brought her soulmate over the edge—once, twice, thrice. And then for good measure, a fourth time.

By the time Gabrielle finally regained control of her bodily functions, she could barely keep her eyes open. Xena rearranged her soulmate’s clothing so that she was decent then kissed her on the cheek and said, “Sleep well.”

Gabrielle didn’t reply. She was already fast asleep.

***

The bustling port city of Maroneia was everything Gabrielle had imagined it to be. Passing through the city gates, they were greeted by an explosion of noise and colours. The streets were so jam packed with people that it was nearly impossible to do anything other than be swept along by the crowd.

In the city centre proper, was the main attraction—the market. There didn’t appear to be any attempt at organisation nor was there any order to the madness other than the rows and rows of stalls zigzagging across the city square. The merchants were as varied as their merchandise. There were spices and peacocks from India; silk, tea, and porcelain from Chin. There were also furs and walrus tusks from the Norse Lands; weapons, armour and horse tack from the Scythian steppes. Gabrielle even spotted a Persian merchant offering artistic metalwork.

Gabrielle took all of this in with a twinkle in her eye. This was where she was completely in her element—bargaining and haggling and looking for the next best deal. She didn’t have a lot of spare money to play with, having given a sizeable chunk of it to Xena to pay for the horse tack. She would also need to ensure they had enough for dinner and a room at one of the bigger inns.

While Gabrielle enjoyed shopping, it was the back and forth with the merchants that she enjoyed the most. It was true that she sometimes bought items they didn’t need but some deals were just too good to turn down. Even though Gabrielle understood it wasn’t a real deal if you had no need of whatever was on offer. She just got caught up in the moment sometimes.

She flitted from stall to stall, picking up a shiny bauble here and a piece of silk there, putting them back down with a firm shake of her head when the merchants failed to come down from their exorbitant asking price. She bought some spices, haggling so hard that she ended up with twice the amount of spices for half the price. Gabrielle also picked up a new frying pan. An extra saddlebag meant more space for their various knick knacks. They already had a frying pan and didn’t need a new one. But they were looking at months of travel, most of those later months through miles and miles of desert. If their current frying pan broke, or if Xena got into one of her moods and used it as a weapon, they could very well be left without a frying pan until they reached Chin proper.

At the stall of the Persian merchant, Gabrielle paused. The merchant was busy at work on a piece of jewellery, most likely a custom piece commissioned by a client. Scattered around him were the tools of his trade: punches, hammers and chisels of varying sizes. To his left, samples of his work had been placed in a small display case. Gabrielle leaned in to peer at them. There was a silver amulet embossed with a laurel wreath, a copper bracelet engraved with grape vines—no doubt a tribute to Dionysus, and an intricate engraving of what Gabrielle presumed to be a nude Aphrodite rising from the sea.

If it weren’t for the seashell, which was a symbol often associated with Aphrodite, Gabrielle would not have been able to identify the goddess. The Aphrodite she knew had these beautiful bouncy blonde curls and a face that could have launched ten thousand ships. The goddess of love oozed sex appeal from every pore and she was always dressed from head to toe in pink. Nothing at all like any of the paintings, sculptures or engravings she’d seen. Gabrielle tried asking about the inspiration for the engraving of the goddess of love but got no answer for her trouble.

While Gabrielle pondered her next move, she realised that the crowd had spat her out at the edge of the market, next to a fairly large inn. There was another inn two buildings over, this one much larger. Gabrielle looked at the inn in front of her then back at the market. The location of the inn was convenient but not ideal. With the market so nearby, it would be rowdy, at least until the merchants packed up for the night. It would also no doubt be expensive.

Still, it was as good a place to start as any. She doubted there were any rooms available but she would at least get a rough idea of how much room and board cost in Maroneia. That would help her negotiate a fair price for tonight’s stay.

***

Leading two horses through the packed streets of Maroneia would be an exercise in futility for most people. But not Xena. For some reason, the way opened for her without any overt effort on her part. Luckily, the stables, the blacksmith, and the merchants selling horse tack were all located in the same area, providing a kind of one-stop service for all things equine.

First, she outfitted Gabrielle’s horse. That would have cost a pretty penny except Xena had a nifty little trick up her sleeve. Unlike Gabrielle, she wasn’t much of a haggler. Instead, Xena preferred to let her silent disapproval do all the talking. And it worked, more often than not. Occasionally, there were the more stubborn merchants. Xena usually left those to Gabrielle.

Next, was the blacksmith who fitted the gelding with horseshoes. Once that was done, Xena stabled the horses and headed to the market. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, her errands hadn’t taken her more than an hour. This left her with quite a bit of time on her hands before she was supposed to meet up with Gabrielle.

It had been less than a week since Gabrielle had accepted her proposal. Since then, Xena had been debating with herself whether she should get Gabrielle a wedding bracelet. This was kind of a sore topic for the warrior. When she was young, younger than Gabrielle was now, she’d been engaged to be married. At the time, Xena had thought she was in love. His name was Petracles and he was a hell of a sweet talker. In preparation for their upcoming marriage, they had wedding bracelets made for each other. But Petracles had called off the wedding. Many years later, Xena would learn that Petracles came to regret his decision and kept her wedding bracelet on him until his death. He had died saving Gabrielle.

Gabrielle knew about the bracelet and Petracles’ history with Xena. Which made getting Gabrielle a wedding bracelet a bad idea. But Xena wanted something that her soulmate could wear on the daily; something that would not get in the way when she fought. That was why Xena had finally decided on an arm band. It would have to be silver, like the one Gabrielle wore around her right biceps.

Earlier, Xena had seen a few stalls that might have what she was looking for. Her only problem was to find it without crossing paths with Gabrielle. Not an easy task, given that she was six foot tall and stood out like a sore thumb. But there was a way around it. Through their soul-link, Xena could sense the direction Gabrielle was in. It worked the other way too. So Gabrielle could use their soul-link in a similar fashion to locate her. If that happened, it could quickly turn into a game of cat and mouse.

Xena scoured the market, checking out any stall that seemed promising. Some of the arm bands were too broad, some too thin. Some were too big, some too small. There was one that looked like it might be just right but the silver used was of an inferior quality. Eventually, Xena found one that was perfect. It was the right size and was made of high quality silver with enough copper mixed into it that it wouldn’t deform easily.

Now that she had the arm band, she needed a metalworker. She’d noticed one earlier, a Persian, who had set up his stall at the edges of the market, next to an inn. She had been impressed with the detail and intricacy of his sample work.

She walked up to the Persian and put the arm band on the table in front of him. “I need work done on this.”

The Persian picked up the silver band and examined it critically. “What do you want done? Engraving? Embossing?”

Xena plucked a small square of parchment from inside her vambrace. She unfolded it and handed it to the Persian.

“This is not possible…” The Persian said, studying the drawing on the parchment. “It is… how do you say it? Too tall?” The Persian placed his thumb at the bottom edge of the arm band and used his index finger to show that the design wouldn’t fit.

Xena took the drawing back from him and folded the parchment so that it only showed the upper half of the drawing. “How about this?” She asked.

“I can…” The Persian turned his head, as if trying to visualise the design on the arm band. “Yes, yes. It can be done. Very small. Very intricate.”

“How long?”

“Three hours.”

Xena reached inside her other vambrace and removed a small nugget of gold. “For this, I want your best work.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll return at dusk.” Xena told him, tucking the gold nugget back into its hiding place.

***

“What’s for dinner?” Xena asked, sliding onto the bench next to Gabrielle.

“Some kind of meat stew. And all the bread we can eat.”

“Drinks?”

“Ale for you and milk for me.” Gabrielle replied. She’d gotten the side-eye from the innkeeper with her choice of drink.

In Greece, only the elderly or the very young drank milk. And of course, pregnant women. Since Gabrielle clearly did not belong to either of the first two categories, the innkeeper concluded that she must have gotten pregnant out of wedlock and had nearly nagged Gabrielle’s ear off about the dangers of men and the need to dress more modestly. It had taken every bit of Gabrielle’s willpower not to roll her eyes at the innkeeper’s antiquated prejudices and biases but she’d managed to hold onto her smile and convinced the innkeeper to keep her secret.

As if reading her mind, Xena asked, “Did the innkeeper make things difficult for you? You coulda waited for me to order the drinks.”

“It’s okay Xena, I can handle it.”

“I don’t like them judging you.”

Gabrielle flashed a smile at her soulmate and patted her on the thigh. “I know.”

While they waited for dinner to be served, Xena studied the patrons. Situated near the city gates, the inn seemed to cater to an almost exclusively Greek clientele. There were villagers who had travelled into the city to sell their goods, as well as travelling merchants who came to the city to pick up a variety of goods and resold them to the villages and towns further inland. There were even members of the city militia enjoying a hearty meal before their shift started.

A portly middle-aged woman slammed a tankard down onto the table in front of Xena and announced loudly, “Ale!” She then placed another tankard carefully in front of Gabrielle. “Not ale.”

The woman repeated the performance with their dinner—two bowls of stew and two plates of bread. “Just give me a holler if you want more.” She told Gabrielle before disappearing back into the kitchen with an energetic swish of her skirts.

The soulmates exchanged a bemused glance. Gabrielle pulled the steaming bowl of brownish slop closer to her and took a deep breath. She turned to Xena and said, “I don’t know what this is but it sure smells good.”

“The food and ale can’t be too bad if the locals come here.” Xena said. She took a long deep gulp of her ale and gave a loud satisfied burp. “Good ale too.”

Gabrielle spooned up some stew, blew on it to cool it down then took a tentative bite. “Mmm… I think it’s pig. Really tender.. I don’t know how they do it but it doesn’t have that porky taste.”

“Looks like you found a winner.” Xena said approvingly.

The pair tucked into their dinner heartily. And when they had finished the stew, they used the bread to wipe the bowls clean.

“I’ll go get us more stew.” Xena picked up their bowls and headed for the kitchen. There, a serving staff refilled the bowls and handed her a fresh plate of bread to go with it. On her way back, Xena overheard a conversation that piqued her curiosity. At their table, she put the food down but remained standing.

“There’s something I want to check out.” Xena told Gabrielle.

Gabrielle looked around the inn, trying to spot whatever it was that had caught Xena’s attention. Not spotting anything out of the ordinary, she asked, “What is it?”

“Not sure yet,” Xena said. “You eat. I won’t be long.”

Xena retraced her steps and returned to the table where three men in their late thirties were talking in hushed whispers. They looked to be farmers from one of the surrounding villages. “Mind if I join you?” Xena asked.

The three men looked up, surprised to find a leather clad woman with a sword at their table. They looked at each other, uncertain how to respond. Finally, the oldest of the three spoke up. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

Xena acted like she hadn’t heard him and took a seat on one of the empty benches. She leaned towards the men and whispered conspiratorially, “Tell me about the deaths.”

“We don’t know nothing about any deaths.” The youngest of the three blurted out. He was clearly flustered because he repeated, “We don’t know nothing about the murders.” It was only when his companion punched him on the arm that he realised he had misspoke.

“Alright then.” Xena said. “Tell me about these murders you know nothing about.”

A heated discussion ensued between the three men. “Don’t blame me.” The young man whispered heatedly. “It’s not like it’s a secret anyway.”

He turned back to Xena, ignoring his companions’ attempts to shut him up. “I heard that people have been dropping like flies in a village north-east of here. I heard they were murdered. The killer has not been caught.”

“I heard it started at the beginning of the year.” One of his companions piped up. “Every month, someone dies. The villagers are all afraid they will be next.”

“Those are just rumours.” The third man chimed in. “No one knows if they are true. Just to be sure, we don’t go anywhere near the village.”

Xena pondered everything they’d told her. She remembered a village to the north-east of Maroneia. It had been years since she had last been there and she couldn’t be sure that the men were referring to the same village. She described the village to the men and they confirmed that it was. “Do you know how many people were killed?”

“Ten.”

“Eight.”

“More than twenty.”

Xena closed her eyes in exasperation. That was the problem with rumours. They were never accurate and tales often grew with the retelling. It was very possible that the multiple murders were no more than an overenthusiastic embellishment of a single suspicious death. Or it could be somewhere in the middle. Deciding that it would be better to get her information straight from the source, Xena thanked them and took her leave.

When she returned to Gabrielle, Xena found that her soulmate had summarily polished off both bowls of stew, leaving only half a hunk of bread untouched. Without a word of complaint, she picked up both bowls for a third refill. This time around, the serving staff wasn’t as obliging. But after a quick check with the innkeeper, the young woman topped up the bowls, making it very clear to Xena that she would not be entertaining any further requests from her.

Xena handed one bowl of stew to Gabrielle and looked down with some concern at her half-empty tankard. “I need more ale. But I’ve worn out my welcome.”

“I’ll get it.” Gabrielle said, popping up from her seat. Moments later, she returned with three tankards—two ale and one milk. “Here you go.”

“Thanks Gabrielle.” Xena downed the remnants of her first tankard then took a healthy gulp from a second.

Gabrielle took a sip of her milk and started on her fourth bowl of stew. “So, what did you find out?

“Sounds like one of the villages nearby has a problem. I’m thinking we should pay the village a visit. See what’s going on.”

“What kind of problem are we talking about?”

Xena shrugged. “Hard to tell. You know how rumours are. Could be something. Could be nothing. Wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

The inn was a two storey affair, with a tavern-cum-dining room on the first floor and guest rooms on the second floor accessible through one of two narrow staircases to the rear. The staircase opened up onto a narrow corridor bordered on both sides by a row of doors. Altogether, Xena counted nine rooms: four on each side and the one at the end. Seeing how there was no sign of an alternate entry or exit, she figured that the other flight of stairs led to a separate but similar configuration of rooms for a total of eighteen rooms.

Based on what Xena had seen of the inn from the outside, she wasn’t holding out much hope that their room would be more than a hole in the wall. She glanced at the symbol etched onto the door in front of her—a crude outline of a fish. Shaking her head, she turned to the other door. This one had an anchor on it. “Looks like we got a sea suite.” She joked.

Gabrielle held up the key tag in her hand revealing a clump of squiggly lines. “Actually, I think we’ve got the kraken.”

“If that’s a kraken, I’m a lure.”

Gabrielle tutted at her. “Now who’s the one imagining things?” She squeezed past Xena into the corridor, checking each door as she went. “This is us.” Gabrielle said, stopping at the last door. She unlocked the door and went in.

Xena hefted their backpacks over her shoulder and followed after. She stopped outside the door, taking in the room before her. It was larger than she’d been expecting, probably one of the larger rooms in the inn. A pair of bedside tables flanked a double bed that had been lined up against the wall on her right. Tucked in the left corner, away from the door, was a small table with two stools. Right across from Xena was a large shuttered window.

Xena set down their backpacks and headed straight for the window. She opened the shutters and looked out. The city lay in semi-darkness below her; lit in certain areas by sconces or torches and dark in others. The streets were mostly empty. It was common knowledge that it was unsafe to be out and about at night, especially in a big city like Maroneia. There was always the risk of running into a cutpurse or some other unsavoury character with nefarious intentions on their minds. This close to the city gates, however, it was considered fairly safe.

But Xena didn’t like being hemmed in with a narrow corridor as their only means of entry and exit. She wanted to make sure that they had another escape route if the need arose. From this window, they could make their way out onto the ledge that wrapped around the building and down to the streets. Alternatively, they could climb out the window and up onto the roof. Though Xena didn’t see any reason to do that. Unless they wanted to sleep under the stars—in which case, they would have been better off camping in the woods.

Xena propped the shutter open to let the air in then turned to find that Gabrielle had shut the door and was staring intently at her. Confused, Xena asked, “What’s the matter?”

In response, Gabrielle let down her shields, sending a wave of desire and arousal crashing over Xena and waking the beast lurking within. Without realising what she was doing Xena advanced upon her soulmate like a lion stalking its prey. Once Gabrielle was pinned up against the door with nowhere to go, she pounced.

She kissed Gabrielle hungrily, almost forcefully, growling with satisfaction when her soulmate’s lips parted to grant her tongue ingress. She tore Gabrielle’s bra top off her and divested her of her skirt and undergarments while the bard pulled Xena’s breastplate and pauldrons off. Xena removed her sword and chakram, retaining enough presence of mind to put them out of harm’s way. Helped by Gabrielle, she then shrugged out of her battledress and linen shift.

With both of them now completely nude, Xena turned Gabrielle around. She grabbed Gabrielle’s breasts, kneading the swollen globes in her hands, drawing a half whimper half moan from the bard. The sound pierced through Xena’s lust-filled haze momentarily and she might have stopped. But Gabrielle placed her hands over Xena’s, holding them firmly against her breasts, as if egging her on. Xena obliged. She leaned in, licking a trail down the side of Gabrielle’s neck before biting down where the neck joined the shoulder; not enough to draw blood but enough to leave visible teeth marks.

Gabrielle flinched, the movement turning into a shudder as Xena’s long powerful fingers switched their attention to her sensitive nipples. She arched her back into her soulmate, a moan caught somewhere in her throat as Xena’s lips crushed hers. The throbbing in between her legs intensified. By the time Xena forced her legs apart with her knee, Gabrielle was dripping wet.

Xena reached down and slipped two fingers through the well-lubricated folds of Gabrielle’s womanhood. She brought them up to her nose, inhaling the sweet musky smell of her soulmate’s arousal. Grabbing Gabrielle’s face with her other hand, Xena made her watch as she slowly licked her fingers, closing her eyes to savour the salty sweet taste. When Xena opened her eyes, they had turned a deep shade of dark blue. She gripped Gabrielle’s chin firmly and kissed her so hard the bard could barely breathe.

Xena turned Gabrielle back to face her before pushing her up against the door, shaking it in its frame. She kissed Gabrielle again, mixing in a few hard nips along the way as she worked her way downwards. As she sank to her knees between Gabrielle’s legs, Xena paused to look up the length of her soulmate’s body. She took a moment to admire the view from her vantage point before gripping the bard’s thighs firmly and pushing them apart to reveal Gabrielle’s inner folds. Xena shifted her grip higher, spreading the outer lips of Gabrielle’s womanhood open and watching it quiver, as if impatient for Xena to put her mouth where it mattered.

Leaning in, Xena stuck her nose in first, lubricating it with Gabrielle’s juices before pulling out a little and using her tongue to lick up the juices around. Once that was done, she rolled her tongue into a tube and pushed it into Gabrielle’s womanhood. She flicked her tongue in and out while using her nose to draw little circles around the clitoris. When Gabrielle grabbed her head with both hands and started thrusting her hips against her face, Xena switched targets, gently sucking and licking the sensitive nub, gradually ramping up the intensity, knowing full well how it drove Gabrielle absolutely crazy.

The bard was moaning almost non-stop now and her gyrations were becoming frenzied. Behind her, the door was rattling around in its frame, almost as if it was getting ready to make the jump with her. Without warning, Xena gripped the base of Gabrielle’s clitoris in between her teeth, applying just enough pressure as her tongue swirled over the top of it again and again. Above her, Gabrielle bit down hard on her lower lip as the first orgasm slammed into her like a lightning bolt. She tried to hold on but Xena didn’t let up. It was like riding a bucking horse that wouldn’t stop, not that Gabrielle knew first hand what that felt like. But she certainly knew what multiple orgasms felt like, one rolling into the next and then the next. When the second one hit, Gabrielle finally let go. She wasn’t sure if she screamed or moaned out loud but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

***

They were interrupted by someone pounding on the door. Gabrielle instinctively jumped away but her legs had turned to rubber. Xena’s reflexes kicked in. She bounced up off her feet, grabbed Gabrielle around the waist and swung them both around so that Xena ended up with her back against the wall, Gabrielle flush against her. With all that hot delicious flesh pressed up against her, Xena ignored the interruption and kissed Gabrielle again. This kiss was insistent, demanding, as if everything that had come before was only a teaser and not the main attraction.

The pounding continued. “Keep it down inside! Some of us need our sleep!” A man’s voice shouted through the door.

Their lips still locked, Xena slammed the palm of her right hand against the door, with every intention of scaring the person away. It didn’t work.

More pounding. “Hey! I said you need to keep it down!”

Xena closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She reluctantly let go of Gabrielle and turned to open the door.

Gabrielle stopped her. “Wait.” She wiped Xena’s nose and mouth clean of any incriminating evidence then said, “Okay. Clothes.”

Xena shook her head. What was the point of putting on clothes when she would have to take them off again anyway. She turned back to the door, making sure Gabrielle was safely out of sight before she pulled the door wide open with so much force that the man standing outside almost fell into their room.

Confronted with a nude and very irate warrior princess, the flouncy merchant, who had been banging on their door so vigorously moments before, took an involuntary step back. He immediately averted his eyes, staring down at the floor, only to find his eyes drifting, of their own volition, up those long tanned legs.

“Is there a problem?” Xena asked, her voice dangerously low, her eyes glinting like hard little sapphires in her chiselled face. From the thunderous look on her face, it was obvious that there would be hell to pay if she didn’t like his answer.

As the merchant considered his response, he noticed a young woman peering out at him. She caught his eye and very slowly but deliberately shook her head, as if cautioning him against doing or saying anything rash. For a brief moment, he wondered if the young blonde was in danger and in need of his help. Perhaps she had been kidnapped and forced into some kind of sexual slavery by the barbarian woman. He couldn’t imagine that a sweet young thing like her would willingly be alone in a room with someone as volatile and dangerous as this unhinged woman before him.

Xena cleared her throat, clearly impatient for an answer. The merchant quickly decided that he wanted no part of the situation, whatever it was. “I… N-n-no…” He stuttered.

“Good. Now go away, and don’t come back.” Xena told him, slamming the door in his face.

“Xena, that wasn’t very nice.”

“Would you rather I ask him to stay and watch? I can call him back.” Xena said, reaching for the door handle.

Not wanting to take the chance that her soulmate could be serious, Gabrielle grabbed Xena’s hand to stop her. She latched the door then leaned on it for good measure, saying, “That won’t be necessary.”

“I’m glad that’s settled.” Xena said. “Now… where were we?”

“It’s my turn.” Gabrielle told her. She wrapped her hands around Xena’s neck and pulled her down for a kiss.

***

The night progressed quickly and ended inevitably with the soulmates cuddled up in bed, totally spent. After two intense sessions with Xena’s beast fully in control, Gabrielle could barely muster the energy to keep her eyes open. She was ready to fall asleep when Xena whispered her name.

“Gabrielle?”

“Mmm?”

“Thank you.”

Gabrielle was immediately wide awake. “What for?”

Xena stroked Gabrielle’s face with her thumb. “For loving me.” She paused, leaning in to lay a kiss on her soulmate’s cheek. “And for allowing me to love you.”

Gabrielle turned around and searched Xena’s face, in an attempt to understand what was going through her soulmate’s mind. “I could say the same about you.”

“I love you, Gabrielle.”

“I love you too, Xena. Is… something wrong?” Gabrielle asked hesitantly.

Her concern had quickly given way to alarm. Xena had a history of going to great lengths to demonstrate her love for Gabrielle whenever she had a suicide mission planned. It had happened in Jappa, when Xena had taught her the pinch for the first time, scaring Gabrielle out of her wits as she watched her soulmate, with only thirty seconds to live, saying that was how she wanted to spend her last moments—looking into her eyes. Then Xena had sent Gabrielle away to safety while she went and got herself killed. This moment was suspiciously reminiscent of that.

“Nothing. I just wanted you to know. That’s all.” Xena reassured her.

Last night, while trying to decide what she would get Gabrielle as a wedding token, Xena had read some of Gabrielle’s scrolls. She wasn’t looking for anything specific, just trying to get the lay of the land. Coincidentally, the first scroll she came across was the one about Jappa. Wanting to get some insight into how that episode of their life had impacted her soulmate, Xena had stayed up most of the night reading it from beginning to end.

As always, Gabrielle had managed to find grace and meaning in what had happened, despite the obvious trauma and grief she’d been forced to endure. It was then that Xena was reminded, not for the first time, that she would not have the life she had today if it wasn’t for Gabrielle. Everything she had, all the good she had done, all the people she had helped. None of that would have been possible without Gabrielle.

Xena knew there was nothing she could do to make up for all the pain and suffering she’d put her soulmate through; knew that she hadn’t done enough to show Gabrielle how much she loved and appreciated her. Moving forward, that was something Xena hoped to remedy; to put Gabrielle and her needs before her own. And to do everything in her power to make her soulmate happy.

Gabrielle grabbed her soulmate’s arm. “Xena, you’re scaring me.”

“What? I’m not allowed to be romantic?” Xena asked in a mock hurt tone, trying to lighten the mood.

“Xena, your idea of romantic is getting me a poem from Sappho. Or playing pranks on me on my birthday. Or giving me a foot rub. This—I don’t know what this is.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I like when you are vulnerable with me and tell me stuff. But this is so out of character for you that I can’t help but wonder…” Gabrielle trailed off, not wanting to jinx things by speaking her fears out loud.

“Gabrielle, we are to be married. That makes me the luckiest woman in the known world right now. You might have to get used to me being more… open… with my feelings.”

“I think… I would like that. I would like that very much. But you’re not alone in being the luckiest woman in the known world.”

“I can live with that.” Xena said with a smile.

***

From a distance, the village looked like every other Greek village they had come across in their travels. There were no defensive walls here. Nor were there any discernable boundaries. There rarely were, which was what made them so susceptible to raids by the local warlords.

In Greece, it was not uncommon to find small villages scattered throughout the countryside. Most of these villages started with one person arbitrarily deciding that it would be a good place to settle down. They would build their home there and persuade their family and friends to join them. If the location was good, it would attract more settlers and the village would grow, expanding outwards in every which direction. These sprawling villages often housed hundreds, and occasionally, even upwards of a thousand people.

This was one of those large sprawling villages. Located near to a bustling port city, it had obviously done well for itself over the years. As they approached the village, Gabrielle gathered up the slack on the reins and lightly squeezed Jason’s sides with her thighs. “Whoa.” She said, pulling gently on the reins.

The gelding slowed to a walk before coming to a complete stop behind Argo. “Good boy.” Gabrielle gave the gelding a pat on the neck before dismounting.

“How’s your new horse?” Xena asked when Gabrielle joined her.

“He’s easy to handle. And really smooth. Not as bumpy.”

“It’s the way he trots. There is less up and down movement so it feels smoother.” Xena explained. She nodded towards the village. “Looks like there’s some truth to those rumours. Something’s not quite right.”

The villagers, who had been going about their everyday life just moments earlier, had retreated hastily back into their homes the moment it became clear that Xena and Gabrielle were headed their way.

“Maybe they’ve had trouble with raiders. Or they’re just wary of strangers.” Gabrielle suggested.

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

Leading their mounts, Xena and Gabrielle entered the village on foot, their senses on high alert. Every building they passed had their doors and windows closed. From time to time, they would hear the creak of a shutter being opened then shut again as the occupants peered out at them with wary eyes.

“Let’s head for the tavern.” Xena told Gabrielle. She’d caught sight of a man in his fifties sneaking around the side of a nearby building. At his side was a tousled hair young boy, about eight years old. She communicated all of this information to Gabrielle by sharing what she’d seen through their soul-link.

At the tavern, they secured Jason and Argo to the hitching post then tried the door. It was unlocked. Inside, the tavern was empty.

“Hello?” Gabrielle called out.

A rotund man with a shiny bald head appeared from a door in the back, looking surprised to see them. He wiped his hands on his apron. “Can I help you?”

“This is a tavern, isn’t it?” Gabrielle asked.

“Yes, yes. Do you want a drink? Or a meal?”

“Ale and an apple cider please.” Gabrielle told him.

“Take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.” The tavern keeper waddled past them, opened the door and looked out. Whatever he saw outside must have satisfied him because he quickly closed the door and busied himself behind the counter.

He soon returned with their drinks. “We don’t get many travellers up here.” The tavern keeper said by way of an apology.

“We’re just passing through.” Gabrielle said. Before she could say anything more, the door to the tavern swung open.

This appeared to be the cue the tavern keeper was waiting for because he quickly excused himself and disappeared through the door in back.

A well-dressed man in his early thirties entered the tavern. He had medium-length dark curly hair and sported a neatly trimmed moustache and a goatee. He was on the shorter side, only slightly taller than Gabrielle. He strode up to the soulmates and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to Myrithos. I am Vasileios, the village headman.”

Xena ignored his hand, choosing to dispense with pointless pleasantries and got straight to the point. “We heard there’s been trouble in your village.”

The village headman had guessed as much. With Maroneia only an hour away, travellers had little reason to stop by their village. Vasileios had seen their horses outside. According to the reports he’d received, the two women had come from the direction of the city, an easy fifteen-minute ride away. It was early morning. The pair could have easily continued on their way. But they hadn’t. He studied the odd pair, taking note of the blonde’s toned musculature and the tall brunette’s attire. The latter clearly looked like a warrior. And while he wasn’t sure what to make of her younger companion, she looked like she could probably hold her own in a fight.

Vasileios sighed. He had hoped to keep things in-house, to curb the spread of misinformation and to dissuade fear-mongering. Yet despite his best efforts, they had been unsuccessful in their search for answers and the villagers were growing increasingly uneasy. Vasileios had heard the murmurs. He knew there were rumours floating around about what was happening in his village. He also knew he needed all the help he could get.

Vasileios wasn’t a pious man. He didn’t have much use for the gods. But it seemed to be divine providence that these two women had appeared on his doorstep at his precise moment of need. He took a deep breath and asked, “What have you heard?”

***

“We would prefer to hear it from you.” Gabrielle said, echoing Xena’s sentiment from the night before. There was nothing to be gained from rehashing the rumours.

Vasileios folded himself onto the bench opposite them and clasped his hands together on the table. “It started almost six months ago…”

It was the first of February, just after the peak of the Alkionides Meres. The weather was mild and a mother decided to pay a visit to her daughter who had been wed a week earlier.

Around mid-morning, she knocked on the door of the newly-weds, a basket of freshly baked bread on her arm. There was no answer so she let herself in.

“In Myrithos, no one locks their doors. We’re a close-knit community. Everyone knows everyone. We have no crime here…” Vasileios corrected himself. “We had no crime here—before that day.”

Before entering the home, she announced herself, loudly and repeatedly. The mother knew how newly-weds were like. She had no intention of walking in and catching her daughter and son-in-law in a compromising position. There were just some things that were best left unseen. When there was still no response, she’d cautiously peeked into their bedroom, only to be confronted by a horrific scene.

Unable to make sense of what she’d seen, the mother had run out of the house, screaming desperately for help. By the time Vasileios arrived, a crowd had gathered. A couple of the men had entered the house and found the blood-drenched bodies of the newly-weds. The woman was dead, her neck and chest ripped open with what appeared to be claw marks left behind on her body. An old experienced hunter later identified those claw marks as belonging to a wolf. The man, was unconscious, but unharmed.

“He remembered his wife telling him the happy news that she was pregnant. And nothing after that.”

Gabrielle’s hand drifted unconsciously over her abdomen, as if to protect her unborn child. “She was pregnant?”

“Yes. The healer confirmed it. She was with child.”Vasileios said.

“They should have been celebrating a new life. Instead, they had to mourn two deaths. That’s tragic.” Gabrielle observed sombrely.

Under the table, Xena reached over and squeezed Gabrielle’s hand. They remained holding hands as Xena asked the headman, “Have you had trouble with wolves in the past?”

Vasileios shook his head. “We’ve always had wolves in the area. But they stay away from our village and have never threatened our livestock. I spoke to the hunter about those claw marks. He said there was something weird about them.”

“Weird how?” Gabrielle asked.

“He said it looked deformed.”

“Did you keep a copy of the claw marks?” Xena asked.

“Why would we?”

Xena could think of multiple reasons why but there was nothing she could do about it now. She would have preferred to have seen those marks herself. They were an important clue. “How about track marks? Were there any wolf tracks spotted near the house or around the village?”

Vasileios shook his head again. “We did not spot any wolf tracks. It’d rained the night before so it should have been easy to see. But so many people had gone in and out of the house by then, it was impossible to tell if any had been left before the body was discovered.”

“Could the man have killed his wife? He was found covered in blood, wasn’t he?” Gabrielle said.

“The woman’s mother didn’t think so. This wasn’t an arranged marriage. They were childhood sweethearts and very much in love. They had just wed and were having a child together. What reason could he have to kill her? And in such a brutal manner too. When we told him about his wife’s death, he was absolutely heartbroken. We had to stop him from joining her in the afterlife. It didn’t look like he was faking it.”

“Don’t forget the claw marks.” Xena said. “They could have been left by a weapon.” She’d seen a knife once that left claw marks on its victims. It was unlikely that knife was the murder weapon here. But where there was one, there could easily be another.

“We never considered that.” The village headman admitted. “But there’s a reason we don’t think the husband did it.” He looked grimly at the soulmates and dropped the other shoe. “Because it happened again. And again. Six people have been killed so far.”

***

The second murder happened a few days after the first. This time, a man in his sixties, a grandfather of three, was killed. His neck was ripped open and similar claw marks were found on him. His grandson, a young man barely twenty years old, was found unconscious at his side, also covered in blood. He too would claim to have no knowledge or recollection of the attack.

A week later, a young man in his late twenties suffered the same fate. This time, it was his father who was found unconscious at the scene, once again covered in blood. In the space of just two weeks, three people had already met a violent end at the hands of an unknown killer.

Since all the murders appeared to have been committed at night, Vasileios imposed a curfew. Villagers were encouraged to lock their doors and stay at home after dark. The curfew seemed to work and there were no incidents of note until the Anthesteria, a three-day festival to celebrate the end of winter and the arrival of spring. With the unsolved murders hanging over the village, celebrations were understandably muted.

As part of the festivities, the curfew was lifted temporarily, allowing the villagers to celebrate into the night. On the last night of the festival, a blood-curdling scream was heard coming from the home of a large family, reviving fears that the ‘wolf killer’ had struck again. Two adolescent boys, covered in a red gooey substance were found unresponsive on the floor of the family room.

Fortunately, this turned out to be a false alarm. The boys had merely passed out after consuming too much wine. The red gooey substance was later discovered to be the remains of mashed grapes that the boys had found in a vat used for making wine. The villagers had a good laugh and the boys were grounded for a week. But the brief moment of levity would soon give way again to fear.

Two days after the Anthesteria, a middle-aged woman was found murdered. It was her husband who was found beside her. In the last week of spring, a little girl who had just turned two was tragically killed. Her mother was inconsolable and blamed her husband for the child’s death. The mother had been away visiting family in another village and had left the child in her husband’s care. The child was found cradled in the arms of her blood-soaked father, her face completely obliterated.

The last murder happened a month ago. A childless widow, who was not found until her lover, a long time widower wandered out of her house in a daze, covered in blood. He claimed that he’d gone over to the widow’s house the day before to ask for her hand in marriage but had woken up to find her horribly murdered.

All the murders had happened in the night and there were no signs of a struggle, suggesting the killer had caught the victims unaware. At each scene, a man had been found covered in blood but otherwise unharmed. None of the men had any memory of the attack.

The cause of death was similar, with claw marks left on the bodies of all the victims. While the claw marks might suggest an animal could be the killer, there were no signs of predation, suggesting that an animal attack was highly unlikely but could not be discounted completely.

Everything seemed to point to the murders being perpetrated by one man, a vicious serial killer who knew the village well and wasn’t too particular about who he killed or why. However, Xena wasn’t so sure. The murders felt too random and unconnected. And there was the little matter of the men who had been found at the scene. If there really was a serial killer, why had those men been spared? There was a piece missing in the puzzle. She just needed to figure out what it was before the killer struck again.

“We’ll need to speak to everyone involved.” Xena said.

The village headman nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He paused. “Before I do that, you should know that we can’t afford to pay you.”

Gabrielle flashed him a reassuring smile. “We just want to help. We can pay for our stay.”

“That wouldn’t be right.” Vasileios protested. “There’s an empty house in the village that the two of you can stay in. And I’ll personally cover your food and drinks here in this tavern. At least until the killer is caught.”

“That would be very much appreciated.” Gabrielle said. “Why don’t you show us to this house? You can bring the witnesses to us there.”

“Sure.” Vasileios agreed.

“First things first.” Xena said, draining her ale in one gulp. “I need another drink.” She pushed herself away from the table and went to look for the tavern keeper.

Vasileios watched her go then turned back to Gabrielle. “I still don’t know your names.”

“Right. I’m Gabrielle and that’s Xena.”

“And you think you can help us?”

“I’d bet on it.” Gabrielle said. “This isn’t our first rodeo.”

***

Their temporary home was small but compact. They had expected it to be located on the outskirts of the village, where most abandoned houses tended to be. Instead, it was only a few doors down from the tavern. It did not have a barn so they had to stable Jason and Argo with the headman, who lived in the house next door with his new bride and father-in-law.

The house was fully furnished, comprising of a tiny kitchen, an all purpose dining/sitting room, and a bedroom. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, as if it had been left vacant for at least a month or two. Gabrielle wondered what had happened to the previous occupants and whether their departure had anything to do with the murders.

As they set about cleaning up the place, they discussed their plan of attack.

“It would be faster if we split things up.” Xena said. “Vasileios’ll bring the men here. You’re better with the sensitive talks so I’ll leave them to you.”

Gabrielle agreed. “Maybe a more gentle approach will give us some answers. I take it you’ll be looking around the village and having a chat with the villagers?”

“I want to check out the scene of the murders. See where they are located and how far they are from each other. I also want to speak to the hunter. See if he can give me a better description of the claw marks. The healer too. So I can get an idea of the injuries.”

“That would be more up your alley than mine.” Gabrielle conceded.

“The men have to be the key.”

“They are the main suspects. Though it would be a hell of a coincidence if the murders were all unconnected.”

Xena nodded. “There has to be something more going on here—something that ties everything together. I get the feeling Vasileios wasn’t telling us everything.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Do you think the killer will strike again?”

“Until we know more, it’s hard to say.” Xena said. “I’ll take the night watch, see if there’s anything suspicious going on.”

“I’ll come too.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, Gabrielle. You know why.”

Gabrielle sighed. When she first learned that she was pregnant, she had expected it to go the way of her first. Which, in hindsight, was wholly unrealistic. There had been nothing normal about her first pregnancy. She’d been tricked by a priest of Dahak into giving up her blood innocence. Because of that sacrifice, Gabrielle had been chosen to bring forth Dahak’s child into the world. That pregnancy, if it could even be called that, had progressed so rapidly that she’d given birth within days.

Back then, Gabrielle hadn’t experienced any symptoms other than the morning sickness and the weird food cravings. This time around, she had already been through the morning sickness, the mood swings, the heightened sense of smell, and the physical changes to her body. And that was just in the first two months alone.

Now, midway through her third month, Gabrielle sometimes found herself short of breath. She was also constantly tired. She would sleep almost twelve hours every night, and still be sneaking in naps throughout the day. It was out of control. Even now, she could feel herself flagging. And all she’d done was tidy up the house.

Gabrielle stifled a yawn and caught Xena looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I know, I know…” Gabrielle said, lifting her hands in a placating manner.

“Go rest. I’ll finish the kitchen and wake you when it’s time for lunch.”

As if the mere thought of sleep had opened the floodgates, Gabrielle swayed on her feet as a sudden wave of weariness washed over her. Ever-vigilant, Xena grabbed hold of her soulmate before she could stumble or fall.

Before Gabrielle’s brain shut down completely, she mumbled, “Interviews…”

Xena didn’t bother answering. Instead, she picked up her slumbering soulmate and carried her into the bedroom.

***

Per Xena’s instructions, the headman arrived shortly after noon with two men in tow. Both were in their twenties and of middling height. One had an unkempt beard and angry red hair that could only be best described as unruly. The other was clean cut and had his copper brown hair cropped short on the sides and back but long on top.

Xena wasn’t surprised to learn that the redhead was the husband of the first murder victim. He certainly looked as if he hadn’t shaved or had his hair cut since his wife and unborn child died. Xena sympathised with the man. If she’d been in his shoes and it had been Gabrielle and their unborn child who had been killed, she would have looked rough around the edges too.

The other man, whom Vasileios introduced as Andreas, had been roped in to help coordinate the interviews of the six men who had survived the attacks. Vasileios, on the other hand, would act as Xena’s guide, bringing her around the village and facilitating anything that she might need help with.

At Xena’s request, the headman brought her on a tour of the village so that she could get the lay of the land. Along the way, he pointed out the houses where the murders had happened. Villagers stopped and stared at Xena, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Occasionally, some of the villagers would pull Vasileios aside and question his decision to bring strangers into their midst.

Xena was very aware of the hostile and suspicious glances directed her way but she didn’t let it bother her in the slightest. Even though Xena was generally given a friendlier reception these days, she was used to being viewed or treated with a certain degree of scepticism and even distrust. Before Gabrielle, Xena didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation. They used to call her many names, none of them flattering—Butcher of Corinth, Destroyer of Nations, the list went on, and on.

These villagers didn’t know her. They didn’t know if she was friend or foe, only that she was a stranger. Given how savage the murders were, Xena wasn’t surprised that the tight knit community would rather believe that the killer or killers were outsiders than someone from the village. The thought that they could have a murderer living in their midst, someone whom they had known and interacted with in their everyday life, was too terrible to contemplate.

Xena, however, was leaning towards the murders being an inside job. There was no discernable pattern in terms of where the murders had been committed. The houses were not clustered together in one location but scattered throughout the length of the village. Only one of those houses had been located right on the edge of the village. If the killer had been an outsider, why hadn’t someone mentioned seeing a stranger wandering around? And why would an outsider kill one person but leave another unharmed?

The theory that the murders were the result of an animal attack was similarly flawed. Wolves rarely ventured into human settlements. When they did, it was likely for food, and they would stay near the periphery of the village. Wolves also often hunted in packs and primarily used their powerful jaws and teeth when attacking. The absence of any bite marks or predation strongly suggested that the attacks had been perpetrated by a person and not an animal. Lastly, the attacks had happened inside the homes, where the doors and windows had been closed and even locked. If an animal was behind the attacks, how had it fled the scene?

Xena hoped Gabrielle was making some headway with the six men who had been found unconscious beside the murder victims. Had they been struck by the assailant? Or was there something more nefarious going on?

Maybe she should ask to speak with the villagers who had discovered the bodies. But first, Xena wanted to speak with the hunter who had identified the claw marks. Had he made a genuine mistake? Or did he just put two and two together and come up with the wrong answer? Or was he the real killer and trying to throw people off his scent by pointing his finger at the wolves?

***

Gabrielle ushered the clearly grieving man to a chair before taking her place opposite him. She’d laid out some parchment on the table, together with her ink pot and quill, to record anything that might be pertinent to the investigation.

She leaned forward, looked him straight in the eye and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now.” Gabrielle paused and took a deep breath before continuing, “But I hope you can help us catch the culprit who did this.”

For a long moment, the man didn’t say anything. He didn’t even appear to have heard what Gabrielle had said. She was thinking of repeating herself when he let out a long hopeless sigh and asked, “Does it matter? I’ve lost everything—everything… Eleni and I, we were just starting our life together. We had so many hopes and dreams… So many… And now… now they are nothing but painful memories.”

The man’s pain and grief, nearly half a year after the incident, was still so raw and visceral that Gabrielle couldn’t help but feel for him. She wanted to say that she knew something of what he was going through, that she too had loved and lost—Perdicus, Hope, her parents, Xena. She knew what it was like to be consumed by grief, to be so overcome that it seemed impossible to continue on. Gabrielle wanted to tell him that it would get better. But that would be a lie.

Instead, Gabrielle bit her tongue and said nothing. The man did not need her platitudes or commiserations. Nothing she had to say could lessen his grief or make his loss easier to bear. Even catching the culprit would be scant consolation. It wouldn’t bring his wife or child back. And if it turned out that he’d taken their lives with his very own hands, how was he expected to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life? He’d already tried to end his life once before. This would certainly push him over the edge.

Interviewing someone who’d lost a loved one was difficult at best. Impossible at worst. It wasn’t as simple as sitting down with a list of questions and going through each and every one of them until you had all the answers. That almost never worked. Peppering someone with questions put them on the defensive. It was a natural human reaction. With someone who was grieving, that natural reaction was often amplified. The trick was to let them offer up the answers on their own.

To put the man further at ease, Gabrielle got up and poured him some water, adding a generous amount of wine to the mix. She’d had Xena fetch the wine from the tavern earlier, for this very reason. She placed the cup in front of the man with an encouraging smile and retook her seat.

The man absent-mindedly nodded his thanks, picked up the cup and took a healthy swallow. His eyes widened momentarily then his body relaxed and he smiled. It was a sad smile but a smile nonetheless. He carefully put the cup down and looked at Gabrielle, actually seeing her for the first time since he’d entered the house. “Eleni used to do that—mix more wine in my water, whenever I was feeling down. She thought it would make me feel better. And it did. But not because of the wine. She was always doing these little things for me. I’d never had anyone love me as much as Eleni did. Not even my parents…”

He downed the rest of the water then handed Gabrielle the empty cup. She refilled it and placed it back in front of him. He cupped his hands around it and stared unseeingly into its depths. After a brief moment, he spoke. “Did you know we were childhood sweethearts? I still remember the day we met. I was five and she was three. My father had just given me a good lashing with his belt for overturning the milk bucket. I was in pain and feeling sorry for myself when this chubby little girl bounced up to me and handed me a sprig of wild flowers. She gave me this shy smile before running back to her mother. I remember feeling warm all over. It was like the sun had broken through the clouds.”

“I promised I would marry her when she turned fifteen. I’d already asked her father for her hand in marriage and he’d agreed. But my father was furious when he found out. He refused to let me marry Eleni. He thought she was beneath our family. I didn’t care. He disowned me and kicked me out of the house.”

“Eleni’s family took me in. I didn’t have a drachma to my name, only the clothes on my back. Eleni didn’t bat an eyelash. She would have married me anyway. But my pride wouldn’t allow it. It took me many years but I scrimped and saved enough to build a small house in the village. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. And we could finally begin our life together. I wish now I hadn’t waited. If I’d kept my promise and married her when she turned fifteen, we could have enjoyed five years of bliss as man and wife. Instead… we only had one week…”

“Eleni was with child. She was beaming from ear to ear when she told me. She was so happy. We’d always wanted children. It was the happiest day of my life…” The man put his head in his hands. “How did it all go so wrong?”

Listening to the man share his love story was all well and good but it didn’t get Gabrielle any closer to finding out what happened the night of the murder. It was time for her to redirect their conversation.

When the man put his hands back down onto the table, Gabrielle gently put the question to him, “I’m sorry to have to ask this. But can you tell me everything that you remember from that day?”

The man looked up. “The day Eleni told me she was pregnant?”

Gabrielle nodded.

He took a sip of his drink then turned the cup in his hands, causing the water inside to slosh around. “I was up just after dawn, like I normally did. Eleni was already awake. We ate breakfast together. I gave her a kiss and left for work at old Mac’s farmhouse. I mucked out the stalls and made sure all the livestock were fed and taken care of. When I was done with work, I went to collect firewood from the forest near the lake. I wanted to collect as much firewood as I could so we could make some money selling what we didn’t need. I returned home just before dark. Eleni was waiting for me with a huge grin on her face. She said she’d missed her monthly bleed and the healer told her she was pregnant. I was so happy I picked her up in my arms and twirled her around the room. We kissed…”

“The next thing I knew, it was mid morning and I was being told Eleni was dead. At first, I didn’t understand what they were saying. Then I realised there was dried blood all over my hands and my clothes. The headman asked if I could remember anything in between. I tried. I really did. But I have no memory of that time. It’s like it never existed…”

Gabrielle didn’t possess the medical knowledge Xena did but something didn’t sit quite right with her about the man’s apparent lack of memory. “Do you think you were knocked out?”

The man shook his head. “I didn’t have a headache… Also, the healer checked me over. He said there was nothing wrong with me. Do you know what’s odd? I didn’t even have a cut on my finger. And I’d slashed it good on a rock when I was collecting firewood.”

Gabrielle noted this down. It was an inconsistency. That could be important. “Did you notice anything else—strange?”

The man cocked his head and looked at her quizzically. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Gabrielle admitted. She was fishing here. “Anything that struck you as odd?”

“Other than me being covered in blood?” The man looked thoughtful, as if he had indeed thought of something important. “Our dinner? It was untouched.”

***

The old hunter looked to be in his early fifties. He was dressed in a brownish-green tunic and his dark brown hair was pulled back into a harsh ponytail. A large hunting knife hung in a leather sheath around his waist. He was a tall sinewy man who looked like he’d spent the majority of his life out in the sun. His face and the exposed skin on his body were covered in age spots and appeared leathery.

His name was Dimitrios and he’d been hunting in the surrounding area for over thirty years. According to Vasileios, Dimitrios was the village’s best tracker and their foremost expert on all things hunting.

As Xena and the headman approached him, the hunter appeared to size Xena up.

“You look like you know your way ‘round that sword you carry.” Dimitrios told Xena.

“I might at that.” Xena replied offhandedly.

“Ever do some hunting?”

“It’s not like food’s gonna just throw itself at my feet.” Xena said.

She must have passed some unspoken test because Dimitrios nodded approvingly. “I like you.” He offered Xena his arm. “Dimitrios.”

Xena clasped his forearm in greeting. “Xena.”

The hunter looked somewhat taken aback. “Xena? I mighta heard that name afore…”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” Xena told him.

“Right… So Xena, what can I do you for?”

“You saw the claw marks on the victims? Were they the same?”

“Not the same, no. But similar.”

A weapon would have left the exact same marks on the victims. If the marks were similar but not identical, it ruled out the possibility that the victims had been killed with the same weapon. But it didn’t rule out the possibility, unlikely as it might seem, that there could be a group of depraved killers running around wielding the same type of weapon. “You’re sure it was a wolf that made them?”

“Don’t look like no wolf I’ve ever seen. But here in these parts, only thing that coulda left them marks would be them wolves up by the lake.”

This was what Xena had been afraid of. Dimitrios was all but admitting that the claw marks hadn’t been made by wolves—which put Xena firmly back at square one.

“What did these claw marks look like?” She asked Dimitrios.

The hunter squatted down and used his fingers to draw four curved lines in the dust. From where Xena was looking up top, it looked like… She got down on her haunches, curled her hand into the shape of a claw and placed them over the lines Dimitrios had drawn. They were a perfect match.

Xena turned to Vasileios for confirmation. “Is that what the claw marks looked like?”

The headman moved over to Xena’s side and looked at the drawing on the ground. “It looks about right.”

She turned back to the hunter. “One last question. These wolves of yours… Has there been any changes to the pack hierarchy recently? Like, maybe a new leader?”

“Naw. Same leader. A golden brown wolf bitch. Hard to miss.”

“Just her? No male?”

Dimitrios shook his head.

That was strange. Wolf packs were usually led by a breeding pair consisting of a male and a female. Even if the male wolf had died, one of the wolves in the pack would have stepped up to assume the role. If none of the wolves were able to do so, the pack would break up. It was almost unheard of for a wolf pack to have only one leader. The only exception to that rule would be if the pack was made up of non-breeding wolves. However, those kind of wolf packs never lasted more than a year or two at most.

Xena could feel some pieces of the puzzle falling into place. A picture was starting to form in her mind’s eye. It was largely incomplete and she still didn’t know how some of the pieces fitted together. But she was getting there.

She told Vasileios, “I need to speak with the village healer.”

***

Compared to the first interview, the second was significantly easier. The young man, who’d turned twenty in April, appeared less grief stricken over the gruesome death of his grandfather. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. It was more that he’d been desensitised to loss from a young age. At the tender age of four, his village had been raided and he’d witnessed both of his parents killed in front of his eyes. He didn’t know why he’d been spared, only that he’d spent what seemed to be an eternity huddled against his parents’ cold dead bodies. It was his grandfather who eventually found him and brought him to live in Myrithos.

His grandparents took over his care and provided for him to the best of their ability. Unfortunately, bad luck seemed to have followed the young man. When he was seven, his best friend drowned in a freak accident. His grandmother died a year later from causes unknown. Then, when he was sixteen, his betrothed passed away after a long bout of illness.

So when his grandfather had sat him down on that fateful night and told him he was dying of cancer, the young man wasn’t the least bit surprised. It had just seemed inevitable. The last memory he had was of his grandfather pulling him in for a hug.

The young man told Gabrielle, “I don’t remember what happened after that. But grandfather had been in pain for months by that time. That winter was especially hard for him. Maybe I decided to put him out of his misery once and for all. I loved him. He was like a father to me. I didn’t want him to suffer.”

The young man claimed he hadn’t heard or noticed anything unusual and that he didn’t believe an intruder had sneaked into his house and knocked him unconscious. However, he did go to the lake that day—to remember his best friend who’d lost his life there thirteen years earlier.

This was the second time the lake had been mentioned and Gabrielle duly noted it down.

The interviews had been scheduled from oldest to newest, which meant the next man she spoke to was the father whose twenty-eight year old son had been murdered. According to the father, he’d gone to the market in Maroneia. When he returned home, he found his son drunk out of his mind lying half inside the door. The father dragged his son into the house and put him to bed. Later that night, his son woke up from his drunken stupor and demanded money from the father. The father refused, and they got into one of their usual arguments. During this verbal altercation, his son punched him.

“I couldn’t believe it. We’ve had our arguments before but he’d never raised his hands against me… Until that night. When I wiped my hand across my mouth, I saw blood. He’d cut my lip. That was the last thing I remembered. That streak of red across the back of my hand.”

The father sighed. “I tried. I really tried. After his mother left, I did my best to raise him by myself. Maybe I should have remarried. But I was worried he would suffer at the hands of a stepmother… That was what happened to me. I didn’t want him to go through what I went through.”

He stared down at his hands. They were trembling. He looked beseechingly at Gabrielle. “Do you think… I killed him?”

Gabrielle chose her words carefully. The man obviously believed he was responsible for his son’s death. Gabrielle didn’t want to give him false hope but she also didn’t know enough to say definitively that he had killed his son. “I don’t have the answer for that. But I know you loved him and you did your best as a father.”

“Thank you… for that.” The father stood up to leave but Gabrielle stopped him.

“Before you go, I have a few more questions.”

The father sat back down. “Go on then.”

“I just have two questions. First, did you pass by the lake that day? And second, did you have a cut lip when you woke up the next day?”

“The lake is on the other side of the village. I didn’t go there or pass by that day. As for the cut lip, I didn’t notice it at the time. I was so overwhelmed. But now that you mentioned it… I’d have to say no. My mouth wasn’t swollen or even bruised. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Gabrielle agreed, jotting his answers down.

“What does it mean though?” The father asked.

Gabrielle looked apologetic. “I don’t have an answer for that either but I’ve a feeling we’ll find out before everything’s said and done.”

***

Healers were often found in big cities. Occasionally, they could be found in smaller towns as well. But it was unheard of for one to be operating in a village, even one the size of Myrithos. Most villages had a herbalist, and usually an older more experienced woman who would help with childbirth and treat simple ailments. If the villagers required the services of a healer, they would travel into the city.

From what Vasileios told Xena, the healer was originally from Maroneia and had only moved to the village the year before. No one really knew why he had left the city or what had possessed him to move to this particular village. He’d brought a young lass with him, whom he introduced as his apprentice. There was some speculation that the so-called apprentice was actually his daughter and that they were hiding from a politically well connected man who wanted to make the daughter one of his many wives.

Xena knew men like that—men who would stop at nothing to satisfy their own twisted lusts and desires; men who enjoyed breaking in young women on the cusp of womanhood and discarded them like trash immediately after.

The apprentice was a waifish little thing with mousy brown hair and a pinched angular face. She was supposed to be twelve years old but could have passed for ten. To Xena, she looked like a runaway slave who had been subjected to constant ill-treatment and starvation from a very young age. In all likelihood, she was not the healer’s daughter, but someone he’d encountered and rescued during the course of his duties. It would also explain why he hadn’t moved to another city but chosen to hide away in a village like Myrithos.

In contrast, the healer looked to be in the pink of health. He was neatly turned out in a sleeveless chiton, his long curly blond hair bound by a hairband around his head. He looked every part a gentleman. It was true what they said. You could take the man out of the city but you could not take the city out of the man.

Vasileios introduced them and Xena quickly got down to business. “I understand that you attended the scenes of the murders. I would like to look at the records of your findings.”

“But of course.” The healer turned and gestured to his home. “Why don’t you come on in?”

Xena followed the healer to a small sitting room. His apprentice, who had preceded them into the room, took six rolls of parchment from the shelves and dropped them onto the table.

“Please.” The healer said, gesturing to a chair.

Xena sat, randomly picked up a roll of parchment and looked at the tag. It read, ‘Murder February 10’. She unrolled it and squinted at the squiggly writing within. Xena wasn’t great at reading. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t read any of Gabrielle’s scrolls until Eve was born. But this—this was on another level altogether. The penmanship was so atrocious, Xena could not make heads or tails out of anything.

Frustrated, Xena put the parchment down. “Why don’t you give me a summary of the wounds you found on the victims?”

The healer turned to his apprentice. “Rhea? Would you please?”

Rhea nodded her head solemnly and began reciting from memory, “First victim, female twenty, six weeks pregnant. Cause of death, deep laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations found on the chest and abdomen. Second victim, male sixty-three, suffering from cancer. Cause of death, laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations to chest and arms. Third victim, male twenty-eight, alcoholic. Cause of death, laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations to face and head.”

The apprentice paused briefly for breath before continuing. “Fourth victim, female forty-two. Cause of death, laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations to chest and arms. Fifth victim, female two. Cause of death, laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations to face, head, and chest. Sixth victim, female fifty-five, tumours. Cause of death, laceration to the front of the neck. Numerous lacerations to chest and face.”

The pattern was immediately obvious. “They all died from their throats being ripped out?” Xena asked.

The healer appeared somewhat put out by Xena’s choice of words. “If you must put it that way, then yes.”

Xena ignored his disapproving tone and pressed on. “Just the claw-like marks? No bite marks or other kinds of injuries?”

“There were some scrapes and bruises. Likely not related.”

“The men who were left alive at the scene. Were they drugged? Knocked unconscious?”

“I believe they fainted from the shock.”

“I thought they didn’t remember anything?”

“They could have blocked it out.” The healer said. “It’s been known to happen, especially in moments of extreme stress.”

The healer wasn’t wrong. But Xena was unconvinced. If they had fainted from the shock, they should have recovered within minutes, not still be dead to the world hours later. “So you didn’t find any other reason for the men to be unconscious?”

“That’s right.”

“None of the men were injured?”

“No. Not even a scrape or a cut.” The healer stopped short and looked away.

Xena was about to press him further when Rhea blurted out, “The widower. He had heart problems.”

The healer glared at his apprentice and she snapped her mouth shut, nearly biting off the tip of her tongue in the process. She hung her head, looking like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Xena frowned at the pair then started picking up the rolls of parchment, one by one. “Guess I’ll just have to look it up myself.”

She quickly found the parchment she was looking for. “Here we go.”

Xena made a grand show of slowly unrolling the parchment. She couldn’t read the healer’s writing anyway so she was hoping one of them would crack and save her the trouble of trying to decipher the undecipherable.

To Xena’s surprise, it was the healer who cracked. “He has an irregular heartbeat—had. Hasn’t had one since. No chest pains or breathlessness either. He claims he’s healthy as a horse.”

“Whatever happened on the night of the murder healed him of his heart condition?” Xena asked, seeking clarification. She wanted to be sure she hadn’t misheard the healer.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” The healer hedged. “It could all be in his mind.”

Xena highly doubted that.

***

“We were estranged.” The husband of the fourth victim, a scruffy looking man in his late forties was telling Gabrielle. “I didn’t want to be stuck all winter with her so I’d gone to stay with our eldest son. He and his wife live in the next village over with their three young children.”

All of a sudden, he puffed up his chest and told Gabrielle proudly, “They make the best cheese this side of Thrace. You should pay them a visit if you’re headed that way. Just tell them I sent you.”

He realised what he’d just said and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Sorry, you probably think I’m a callous old sod, bragging about my son’s achievements when his mother—my wife, was murdered not too long ago.”

Gabrielle recognised this for the rhetorical question it was and did not answer. She sensed he was just getting started and was content to let him speak.

“Our betrothal was agreed by our parents before either of us was even born. We never had a say. Izzie, my wife, had a childhood sweetheart. She had eyes for no one but him. And he, her. But her parents refused to call off our engagement. One year before our wedding, Izzie attempted to elope. Her parents found out about it and made such a fuss that the boy and his family were forced to move away. Izzie never forgave them for that. Just like she never forgave me.”

“We wed and had six wonderful children. Things were good for a while. Our parents were happy. Izzie was busy taking care of the children. She poured all her heart and soul into them. While our children lived in our house, Izzie tolerated me and was even civil on birthdays and holidays. But once our youngest daughter wed the winter before last, things took a turn for the worse. Izzie would still keep up appearances in front of the villagers but when we were alone? It was unbearable.”

“That day, I’d decided to return home and see if we could work things out. She was the mother of my children. We’d shared a life for more than twenty years. I didn’t want it to end like this… But the moment I opened the door to our home, I knew there was no going back. Izzie was… He was there.”

“Her childhood sweetheart?” Gabrielle couldn’t help but ask. No one had mentioned seeing a stranger in the village on the day of the murders.

The man nodded miserably. “They were… I couldn’t… I just left. I hung around in the tavern until the curfew kicked in. Then I went home. She was alone. I checked. I didn’t want to confront her about it. Not that night. But she brought it up. Said she wanted a divorce. That she was done waiting to be happy. That she was going to marry him. I admit I called her names—names that I won’t repeat here. She… slapped me. And then everything went black.”

“Wouldn’t the villagers have noticed a stranger entering your house the same day your wife was murdered?”

“He grew up here in this village. Still has family and friends here. After Izzie died, I found out he’d been visiting her once or twice a week while I was away at my son’s house.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I guess no one wanted to break the news to me.”

Gabrielle didn’t have anything to say to that. What was there to say? His wife had cheated on him. But that didn’t mean she deserved to die. “I’m sorry but I have to ask—did you kill her?”

The man laughed again. This time there was a slightly hysterical quality to it. “Nothing to be sorry for. I ask myself that question all the time. Could I have killed her? I don’t know. Maybe? I was angry… More than angry… What is a good word for it? Furious? Livid? Enraged? It’s possible I blacked out and killed her out of sheer rage. Isn’t that what everyone thinks? Isn’t that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’m just trying to gather information here.” Gabrielle told him. “I know this may sound completely random. But did you pass the lake on your way back?”

The man looked confused. “Of course. It’s along the way. I even stopped to wash my hands and face. Why are you asking?”

“Just checking the boxes.” Gabrielle said.

***

Given everything Xena had learned, it was blatantly obvious that they didn’t have a simple murder here—not that multiple murders were ever simple.

After speaking with the hunter and healer, she’d uncovered a few more pieces to the puzzle. Right now, some of those pieces didn’t seem to fit in with the rest. Xena didn’t know if they were red herrings or if she was missing the critical piece that would connect all the pieces together.

The widower’s heart condition was one of those possible red herrings. His condition was well documented and hence unlikely to be explained away as a misdiagnosis. Which meant he came into contact with whatever had healed him between the last time he’d presented with symptoms and when the healer had examined him after the murder.

It might have happened on the night of the murder or it might have happened in the two weeks preceding it. Hopefully, Gabrielle’s interview of the widower would help narrow the window down.

So far, Xena had been focused on the murders and the people who had been involved in them. It was time she broadened the scope of her investigation. She pulled Vasileios off to the side. “Did anything unusual happen in Myrithos this past year?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Should I not be asking?”

Clearly flustered, Vasileios sputtered, “No… I mean… What does that have to do with the murders?”

Xena’s question had definitely struck a chord in Vasileios. It seemed that the answer to her question was an unequivocal yes. And that it was the very thing the headman was trying so hard to hide from her.

“Murders aren’t always isolated incidents. They can be linked to an old grudge or a seemingly unrelated prior event. I’m just covering all the bases.” Xena said.

Vasileios’ expression tightened. It seemed that Xena had hit the nail on the head, but the headman wasn’t ready to give up his secret. The muscles in his jaw twitched angrily as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and his jaw relaxed.

He prefaced what he was about to say with, “I don’t like to gossip. But since you’re asking, I might as well tell you. Isidora, the fourth victim? She was having an affair with her childhood sweetheart. It had been going on for over a year. Villagers spotted him sneaking into her house when her husband was away. In the beginning, it was once every few months. Recently, her husband moved out and it became once every few days. From what I’ve heard, he was seen around her house the same day she was killed.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us this before?”

Vasileios shrugged apologetically. “Like I said, I don’t like to gossip.”

Xena bit back a retort. This was pertinent information. But Vasileios was clearly still holding something back. “Anything else you might have left out unintentionally?”

Vasileios gave Xena a sheepish smile and shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Alright. If you remember anything we should know about, make sure you tell us right away. Got it?”

“Got it.” Vasileios said. “You wanted to speak with the villagers who found the bodies. Do you want to do it now? Or tomorrow?”

More than four hours had gone by since Xena had started her investigation. Soon, it would be dusk and then the curfew would kick in. If she wanted to speak with those villagers, she had to do it now.

“No better time than the present.” Xena told him. “Lead the way.”

***

After four straight hours of interview, Gabrielle needed a break. While she waited for Andreas to return with the father of the second last victim, Gabrielle took her bed furs from the bedroom and placed them on the chair she’d been sitting in. The chair was as uncomfortable as they came, the seat so hard and unforgiving that it was worse than sitting on a rock. During that last interview, she’d been constantly fidgeting in the seat, trying to relief the pain in her derrière. Luckily, the interviewee hadn’t noticed. But it wasn’t an experience Gabrielle wanted to repeat.

She rolled her neck, interlaced her hands overhead and gave her back a good stretch. She then relaxed her body, shaking herself all over, much like a cat might to relieve muscle tension after a long nap. Feeling much better, Gabrielle grabbed a handful of nuts and popped them into her mouth. She was happily munching away when Andreas returned with a man in his mid-twenties. He was dishevelled and looked as if he hadn’t shaved or bathed in weeks, possibly since the death of his little girl.

After they were both seated, Gabrielle expressed her condolences then said, “Please tell me what happened that day.”

The first words out of his mouth were, “I killed her. I killed our baby girl. It was me—all me.”

“My wife was away visiting family for a few days. Her father was very sick and not expected to live. She didn’t want to expose Dessie to any of that. So we agreed I’d stay home with our baby girl. She was such a happy kid. Always smiling and laughing.”

He doubled over as if in pain and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. Rocking back and forth, tears dripping down his face, he choked out, “Gods, I miss her so much.”

But almost as quickly as the tears came, they stopped. He straightened up, used his hands to scrub the remnants of the tears off his face and continued, his voice trembling with barely repressed emotion. “Dessie missed her mama. It was the third day my wife was away. Dessie woke up as usual and went around the house looking for my wife. When she couldn’t find her, she started crying. I made her breakfast but she refused to eat. I tried feeding her. She threw a tantrum and spilled the food all over the floor. I bribed her with toys and sweets. That worked for a little while. But it didn’t last. By nightfall, she wouldn’t stop crying and asking for her mama. So I put my hand over her face…”

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I just wanted her to stop crying.” When he opened his eyes, he seemed resolved. He told Gabrielle, “My wife can’t even bear to look at me. I think it would be best for everyone if you locked me up and threw away the key.”

If the little girl had died from suffocation, Gabrielle would have no reason to question the man’s confession. But there were those mysterious claw marks and the injuries the little girl had sustained. There was something else at play here, not just a frazzled father trying to get his two year old daughter to stop crying. Either way, the decision was not hers to make.

Gabrielle told him, “If you’re found to be responsible for your daughter’s death, it would be the authorities who’ll decide your punishment. Not me.”

The last man was in his sixties, his short salt and pepper hair neatly combed back, the expression on his weathered face was one of resignation, not grief. Intrigued, Gabrielle watched him as he carefully took a seat and placed his clasped hands on the table.

Before Gabrielle could extend her condolences, he said, “I heard you’re investigating the murders.”

At Gabrielle’s nod, he continued, “I suppose you know that I went to Althea’s house to propose. I know it’s an odd time, what with the recent murders and all. But that was why I thought it couldn’t wait. I went to the lake, picked some wild flowers and waited until just before the curfew to go to her house. I was certain she would say yes and the curfew would give me an excuse to stay the night.”

“This isn’t some young love. We’ve both been married before. We know how these things work. It wasn’t just about the…” He paused, eyeing Gabrielle uncomfortably.

At his age, there wasn’t much he was coy about. But here was this seemingly unwed young woman. He didn’t want to offend her sensibilities by being crude. So he chose a more socially acceptable term for the physical act of intercourse. “It wasn’t just about being intimate. We loved each other. At least that was what I thought.”

“Althea rejected my proposal. I saw red. My heart was pounding so hard. I must have passed out. When I regained consciousness, Althea was dead. Her face, neck and chest had been ripped out by some animal. It was absolutely horrifying. I stumbled out of her house shouting for help. The sun was already high in the sky. I’d been out for more than half a day.”

“I’ve heart problems. I’m surprised I didn’t just keel over and die from the shock. If they had to kill one of us, they should have killed me and spared Althea. If they couldn’t spare her, then they should have killed me too. At least then, we would have been together.”

“You look like a nice young lady. Do you have someone you love?” He asked out of nowhere.

Gabrielle did not know where he was going with this but she answered truthfully, “I’m engaged to be married.”

The man nodded in what appeared to be approval. “Good, good. Let me give you a little advice—if you love someone, make sure you tell them that every day. Don’t wait until it’s too late. Or you’ll end up like me, a sad lonely old man with nothing except a heart full of regrets.”

***

Speaking with the villagers yielded no new information. For the most part, they weren’t forthcoming and were terse in their replies. Xena chalked it up to their natural distrust of strangers. She wasn’t Gabrielle. She’d didn’t have her soulmate’s easy way with people. There was something naturally disarming about the bard. Her presence put people at ease and strangers readily opened up to her, oftentimes spilling their deepest darkest secrets without a second thought.

She would ask Gabrielle to speak with the villagers tomorrow. In an informal setting, of course. Xena had a feeling the villagers would speak more freely without the headman hovering over them.

Xena picked up their dinner from the tavern and brought it back to the house they were staying in. She carefully balanced the tray on one arm and pushed open the door with the other. “Gabrielle?”

There was no answer. The dining table was covered with pieces of parchment filled with Gabrielle’s familiar handwriting. Not wanting to spill food on whatever Gabrielle was working on, Xena pushed the pieces of parchment over to one side and set the tray down on the table. She quietly approached the bedroom and found Gabrielle curled up on the bed fast asleep. In sleep, Gabrielle looked at peace, her face free of the stress lines that had found their way there in the later years of their travel.

Sometimes Xena wished they could go back to the days when Gabrielle hadn’t lost her blood innocence, when the world was still full of hope and wonder and promise for her young companion. It was easy for Xena to hold on to her regrets when it came to her soulmate. She constantly blamed herself for how Gabrielle’s life had turned out—for all the tribulations she’d put the young bard through. The mistakes were Xena’s. And yet, it was always Gabrielle who paid the price.

Xena crossed over to the bed, leaned down and tenderly kissed her soulmate on the cheek. “Gabrielle.”

“Hmm?” Gabrielle scrunched up her face and opened one eye. “Xena? What time is it?”

“It’s time for dinner. C’mon, sleepyhead.”

Gabrielle sat up, stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I must have fallen asleep.”

Xena returned to the dining room, Gabrielle trailing behind her. She picked up the tray and transferred the plates onto the table. There were three plates. One for Xena, one for Gabrielle, and one for the little one in Gabrielle’s belly. Dinner was roasted lamb with a side of fresh tomatoes covered in a drizzle of olive oil and a wedge of smelly goat cheese.

Gabrielle wrinkled her nose at the goat cheese. “Ugh. That smells horrendous…”

Xena took the hint and moved all the goat cheese onto her plate. “You want my tomatoes instead?”

“I’m good.” Gabrielle said. She looked at the pile of goat cheese on Xena’s plate. “If you eat that, I’m not going anywhere near you.”

“It’s alright. I’ll keep them for a midnight snack.” Xena said. She wrapped the cheese up in a square of oiled cloth and put them away to one side. “How did the interviews go?”

“About as well as you can imagine.” While they ate, Gabrielle told Xena everything she’d learned.

“Four of the six men I spoke to went to the lake that day.” Gabrielle said. “Do you think there’s a connection there?”

Xena didn’t think it was a coincidence. “There’s a pack of wolves over at that lake. Dimitrios says it’s been led by the same wolf for the past thirty years.”

Gabrielle frowned. “Wolves don’t live that long, do they?”

“No they don’t.” Xena replied. “If what Dimitrios says is true, maybe the thing keeping the wolf alive is also healing the men of their injuries and ailments.” Xena brought Gabrielle quickly up to speed on the widower’s heart condition and his miraculous recovery.

“Looks like we need to pay that lake a visit.” Gabrielle said.

“I plan to do that tomorrow.”

“And what am I supposed to be doing while you’re chasing down wolves at the lake?” Gabrielle asked.

Xena told Gabrielle her suspicions about Vasileios and how she thought Gabrielle’s talents could be best utilised speaking with the villagers and finding out what, if anything had happened in the months preceding the murders.

“Could be a suspicious death. A grudge. A scandal. Something set off the killings. Something we don’t know about yet. If we can find out what it is, we might be able to stop it.”

“Anything else you want me to do while I’m at it?” Gabrielle asked, feeling a little disgruntled at being sidelined by her soulmate once again.

“Sleep. We don’t know when the killer might strike again. I can’t cover the village by myself. If you’re up for it, I was hoping you can join me tomorrow night.”

Xena polished off the last of her lamb, downed the rest of her ale and prepared for a long night ahead.

“Be careful.” Gabrielle told her.

“I’m always careful, Gabrielle. I’ll be back at dawn. Don’t wait up.” Xena leaned in for a goodbye kiss.

Gabrielle gladly obliged. The warrior was almost out the door when Gabrielle called out after her, “I love you, Xena.”

Xena turned, a smile on her face. “I love you, Gabrielle.”

***

Xena had Vasileios’ permission to be out on the streets past curfew but it was unclear what she hoped to achieve by taking the night watch. It was true that the murders had all occurred after dark. But she wasn’t hunting a killer or even a group of killers.

Xena now believed that the murders had been committed by the men found unconscious at each scene. All of them experienced a strong emotion prior to blacking out. Xena believed that emotion had allowed some kind of supernatural power to take control of the men. While possessed, the men would not be aware of their actions or have any memory of what happened.

In this way, the killers had caught the victims by surprise and torn their throats out in one quick motion. Death would likely have been immediate. Even if it hadn’t, the victims wouldn’t have been able to scream or shout for help. The other injuries probably happened after their death though it was unclear to Xena why or if there was a purpose behind them.

If Xena’s hypothesis was correct, such a murder could happen behind closed doors without anyone noticing until it was too late. Still, Xena kept her eyes peeled and her ears open as she prowled the streets of Myrithos. She could not discount the possibility that she could be wrong and something else or someone else was responsible for all six of the murders.

On the outskirts of the village, Xena came across a few foxes rummaging for scraps of food. Their eyes reflected the moonlight, which was how Xena first noticed them. These foxes were small, less than half the size of a full grown wolf. They might be dangerous to a new born baby but were no threat to a full grown adult. They were also skittish and ran away as soon as they noticed Xena’s presence.

There were also a few hedgehogs and one solitary badger digging for earthworms in the fields. Xena didn’t spot any sign that wolves or lynxes ever came near the village.

As the night drew on, the muffled conversations and everyday sounds faded away, leaving behind an uneasy silence. Occasionally, a dog would bark or a loud rumbling snore would breach the wooden walls to assault Xena’s senses.

By the time midnight came and went, it looked like it was going to be an uneventful night. Even so, Xena kept up her patrol, mixing up her route and her pace to avoid being predictable. From time to time, she munched on goat cheese and drank ale from her wineskin.

About two in the morning, Xena’s persistence finally paid off. An elderly gentleman with salt and pepper hair emerged from the quiet darkness dressed in a simple linen tunic. Head down, he shuffled through the village with obvious disregard for the curfew. He did not carry a torch or a lamp with him. Yet, even in the dark, his footsteps never faltered. He had apparently walked this same path numerous times before.

Silently, Xena shadowed him. He stopped in front of an empty house—the house of the last victim, the widow. He could have easily pushed the unlocked door open and stepped inside, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there unmoving, his head bent, his shoulders rounded, as if engaged in prayer.

When he spoke, it was in a soft raspy whisper. “I should have known something was wrong. You’d been pushing me away for weeks. I thought perhaps you wanted a commitment from me… You should’ve told me. I would have stayed by your side. It took us so long to finally find our way into each other’s arms. Why did you have to push me away at the very last?”

“If I’d known our time would be so short, I would have spent that time better. I wished I’d told you every day that I love you. I still do. I hope you are in the Elysian fields looking down at me right now. I’ll join you there—soon, once my time here is done. You’ll wait for me, won’t you? I love you, Althea.”

The elderly gentleman brought his hand to his lips then bent down and placed something on the ground in front of the door. He rested his hand on the door, perhaps recalling happier days, then reluctantly returned the way he’d come.

Xena waited until he was out of sight before approaching the house. There, on the ground winking in the pale moonlight, was a simple unadorned gold ring. It would have cost a pretty penny. Xena thought of the silver arm band she’d secreted in the hidden depths of her backpack. She’d intended to keep it for their wedding day. Maybe she shouldn’t.

Xena shelved the thought away. She could think about that later. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. There was still three hours of night left.

She left the ring where it laid and resumed her patrol of the village.

***

It was almost ten in the morning when Gabrielle finally stirred. The hustle and bustle of the day was already well under way and she could hear the sounds of the villagers going about their daily business. She opened her eyes to find her soulmate sound asleep beside her. Xena was still dressed in her armour, sans breastplate and pauldrons, which were nearly impossible to get comfortable lying down in, much less sleep with.

Xena was a notoriously light sleeper and would frequently wake throughout the night. Sharing a bedroll had been a challenge for the warrior in the beginning. Though Gabrielle wouldn’t learn about it until she caught Xena dozing off in the saddle one day. It had taken a whole lot of prodding before Xena finally admitted she hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few nights due to Gabrielle’s constant tossing and turning.

They had briefly reverted to their old sleeping arrangements but that hadn’t last long. It was hard to go back to sleeping alone. At least it had been for Gabrielle. She didn’t think it bothered Xena as much. Their subsequent attempts at sharing a bedroll had gone more smoothly. Their bodies became accustomed to each other. Gabrielle no longer tossed and turned. And Xena no longer woke when Gabrielle moved in her sleep. But Gabrielle was fairly certain she would wake her soulmate if she attempted to get out of bed right now.

Before Gabrielle could decide if she should go back to sleep, Xena spoke. Her eyes were closed, her hands still folded over her abdomen. “Did you have a good rest?” Xena asked.

Gabrielle sat up. “Xena, did I wake you?”

“Nah… I’m meeting Dimitrios.”

“So early? What time did you get in? Just after dawn? Xena, that’s not enough sleep. Even for you.”

“Five hours is plenty.” Xena told her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and picked up her breastplate and pauldrons. “Help me with this, won’t ya?”

Gabrielle slid around to Xena’s side of the bed and held the pauldrons and breastplate in place while Xena clipped them to her leather battle dress. “Did you find anything last night?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe I’ll have better luck at the lake.” Xena secured her sword and scabbard over her back and tucked her various weapons into their usual hiding places.

Before heading out, Xena kissed Gabrielle on the cheek. “You gonna be alright?” She asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking. I’ll try to be back early.”

***

After Xena left for the lake, Gabrielle got down to work. She needed people who could spill the tea about everyone and anyone in the village. And the people who had that tea were the women. Not the young ones who were too busy falling in love with every man they met. Nor the old ones, though they probably had stories for days. Gabrielle wanted the married women—the ones who saw and heard everything and who were more than willing to join in the gossip.

In the villages, women often gathered at the wells where they would fetch water for everything from cooking to bathing to washing. And of course, while they waited for their turn, they talked. In short, if there was a gossip central in the village, the wells were where it was at. So that was where Gabrielle went.

When she arrived at the well located in the eastern part of the village, there was already a long queue. So Gabrielle went up to the well and began helping the women with their buckets.

It was hot and dirty work but Gabrielle didn’t mind. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. And since Gabrielle was stronger than the village women, she could haul up buckets of water almost twice as fast. While she worked, she listened in on the conversations happening around her. There were the usual complaints about the kids, the husband and the in-laws. And then there was the gossip about the affairs going on in the village.

It seemed that was what everyone in the village was the most interested in—the salacious sex scandals. No one talked about the murders, outside of the affair that the fourth victim had been involved in. There were no hypotheses being thrown around about who or what had killed the victims—except, once again, the fourth victim whom everyone believed had been caught cheating by her husband and that he’d then killed her in a fit of anger.

This last hypothesis actually matched what the husband had told Gabrielle and what she believed had likely happened. But that did not explain the claw marks found on the victim, or why the husband had no memory of the events.

Gabrielle was beginning to think that she might need to start talking to the villagers when she noticed the next woman in the queue eyeing her critically. The woman looked to be in her forties, well-dressed, if a bit on the dowdy side. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun at the top of her head. She would have been pretty when she was younger but time had not been kind to her. The deep frown lines etched into her forehead, between her eyebrows and at the corners of her mouth suggested to Gabrielle that this was someone who was deeply unhappy with the world and with life in general.

When the woman’s turn came, she passed her bucket to Gabrielle and casually remarked, “You seem like a nice girl.”

Gabrielle’s body tensed up. There was something about being addressed as a ‘girl’ that just rubbed her the wrong way. She was twenty-three years old, not twelve or even fifteen. More importantly, she’d already given birth to her first child. In the eyes of Greek society that made her a full grown woman. Also, she could tell from the woman’s tone that there was worse to come.

“I don’t understand why you’re travelling with that warrior woman.” The way she said the words ‘warrior woman’ made it sound like an insult, much like how people would say the word ‘prostitute’.

That definitely got Gabrielle’s hackles up. But she forced a smile and took the bucket from the woman anyway.

“Women are supposed to stay home, get married, bear children and take care of their family. That is their duty.”

Still, Gabrielle said nothing. She turned the handle on the winch to pull the bucket up, the muscles in her arms, back and abdomen flexing rhythmically with the movement.

Noticing this, the woman frowned, her disapproval of Gabrielle appearing to have ratcheted up a notch. “You really shouldn’t be showing off your body like that. It’s obscene. But I guess it’s not your fault. You’re only following the example of that… abomination.”

Gabrielle closed her eyes, praying to Eli that she would have enough restraint not to throw the woman into the well. She took a deep breath, then another, and continued turning the winch handle. When the bucket reached the top, she lifted it out and transferred the water into the woman’s bucket. When it was nearly full, she stopped and handed the bucket back to the woman.

“Would you mind carrying that home for me? My back’s been acting up.”

Gabrielle would have rolled her eyes if she could. Instead, she gave the woman a tight smile. “Sure!”

***

Dimitrios did not have a mount so Xena left Argo back at the village. It wasn’t a long walk. The lake was only thirty minutes away and they were able to make it in twenty.

The lake sprawled across the landscape, surrounded on all sides by dense forest. It resembled an oasis in a desert, from which plant life and animal life drew their sustenance. Birds of all shapes and sizes flitted through the trees, filling the forest with their song. Insects buzzed amongst the wild flowers that covered the ground in large swathes. Squirrels scrambled up and down tree trunks, gripping the bark with their tiny little claws as they hunted for their favourite nuts. Deer accompanied by their fawn wandered freely through the woods, grazing as they went.

The lake and its surrounding forest was also an important resource for the villages nearby. Xena spotted men and women traipsing around the woods, gathering fruits, flowers or firewood. There were even a few hunters wielding spears or bows and arrows as they crept through the feeding grounds of their preferred prey—deer.

In some areas, the ground sloped gently into the lake, allowing people to wade in until the water came up to their necks. In other areas, where the ground was made up of rocks, there was a sheer drop-off.

Xena peered down into the murky water of the lake from one such outcrop. She turned to Dimitrios and asked, “How deep is it?”

“Deep. You wouldn’t want to go falling in there. I’d keep to the shallow end if I were you.”

“Do the villagers come here often?”

Dimitrios gestured to the people around the lake. “See them folks? Used to be we’d do the same. It’s a popular spot for fishing, hunting, foraging. You name it, we probably done it.”

“They stopped coming because of the murders?”

“Little while afore that nasty business. ‘twas that young lass what drowned in this here lake over the winter.” Dimitrios pointed to a spot over at the shallower end. “Since then, the women folk been on us men folk to stay clear.”

“What’s so special about her death? People drown in lakes all the time. Accidents happen.”

Dimitrios shook his head. “Wasn’t no accident. That lass done took her own life.”

“Did someone see her jump into the lake?” Xena asked.

“Ain’t nobody seen her do it. But that lass be a looney tune. She been on and on about killing herself for weeks. ‘twas a huge scandal. My missus been telling me she got a bad feeling about the lake ever since. Wouldn’t come near it. Wouldn’t let me either. So you better keep mum about me bringing you here. Else I wouldn’t hear the end of it.” Dimitrios said.

Xena mimed zipping her mouth shut. “So everyone stays away?”

Dimitrios looked around, as if afraid someone from the village might be eavesdropping on them. “Most do. It’s the women folk what believe in all them superstitions. They say the lake’s been tainted by that lass’ death. Us men folk ain’t much for that mumbo jumbo. We mostly stay away to keep the women folk happy.”

Xena knew all about women and their superstitions. Usually, most of those beliefs and superstitions were based on nothing more than their feelings of unease. However, women were generally more sensitive to their surroundings and, by extension, more likely to sense the supernatural and the otherworldly. Xena wondered how much of the women’s aversion to the lake came down to the former, and how much to the latter.

“You said it was a huge scandal. Why haven’t I heard about it?”

“Ain’t no one saying nothing about her in front of the headman.” Dimitrios told her.

“Why not?” Xena asked.

“Cos that there young lass? She was telling anyone what would listen, that she was pregnant with the headman’s baby.”

***

The frumpy woman led the way to her home, a nice looking house set at the back of the village. She pushed open the door and Gabrielle followed her through.

“You can put it down right here.” She told Gabrielle, indicating the floor next to the kitchen stove.

Gabrielle did as told, setting the bucket down gently to avoid sloshing water onto the clean floor. The kitchen was immaculate. And so was the rest of the house. This woman obviously took pride in keeping her house in order, which would have been impossible if there were young children in the house. At her age, the woman was likely an empty nester, her children all grown up and leading their own lives in their own homes.

“Can I get you a drink?” The woman asked.

Gabrielle wasn’t keen on the idea. This woman had managed to insult Gabrielle once, and Xena twice in the space of a few minutes. That had to be some kind of record. Besides, the woman had made her views very clear. She was one of those people who clung to the archaic societal norms and believed that women should aspire to be nothing more than a mother and a wife.

In Potidaea, Gabrielle had been brought up to believe that was all she was good for. It didn’t matter that she dreamt about travelling the world or studying at the Athens City Academy of the Performing Bards. To her parents, those were merely the fantastical dreams of a farm girl who had too much free time on her hands. Gabrielle had chafed under their expectations, hoping desperately to be free of them. But she’d been too afraid to do anything about it—until Xena showed up.

Xena was like no woman Gabrielle had ever met. At the time, it wasn’t just Xena’s fighting skills that had captured Gabrielle’s imagination. It was also the way Xena carried herself—unapologetic, unabashed, unafraid and self-assured. Gabrielle wanted to be just like her. So she’d summoned up all of her courage and sneaked out in the middle of the night to follow Xena.

It was a decision Gabrielle never regretted. Xena had shown Gabrielle a whole new world, one where she could not only dare to dream, but dream big; not only grow, but truly blossom; not only find herself, but be true to her beliefs. In a sense, the woman was right. Gabrielle was only following Xena’s example. But where the woman saw it as a negative, Gabrielle saw it as a positive.

“How about some tea?” The woman poured water into a kettle and placed it on the stove. “Go on, take a seat.”

Not wanting to be rude, Gabrielle pulled out a chair from the table and sat.

“It’s not safe for a nubile young woman like you to be travelling on the road like this.”

Gabrielle held her tongue. She didn’t want to get into an argument. After all, she did get upgraded to ‘young woman’. She wasn’t so sure about the ‘nubile’ part, though that wasn’t technically wrong.

The woman placed a cup of chamomile tea and a small jug of honey in front of Gabrielle then took a seat across from her.

“Thank you.” Gabrielle poured some honey into her cup, stirring it in with a spoon.

The woman regarded her gravely and Gabrielle braced herself for another tongue lashing. “You might not like me saying this. But you’re young, you don’t know what men are capable of. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing. If you’re not careful, they can ruin you for life.”

“You’ve met Vasileios. He seems like a nice young man, doesn’t he?”

Gabrielle perked up. Maybe she was finally going to get lucky and get some actual tea on the headman.

“October of last year, the old headman decided to retire. He announced that whoever won his youngest daughter’s hand in marriage would take his place as headman. Vasileios competed and won. They were betrothed in early November and he was appointed headman of Myrithos.”

“Vasileios was previously engaged to another woman, an orphan named Clio. He broke off that engagement in the middle of October. What no one knew, was that he had been intimate with Clio. In December, Clio discovered she was pregnant with his child and publicly confronted him about it. He denied the allegations and accused her of trying to ruin his good name. She tried to get his betrothal called off but failed.”

“Vasileios and the headman’s daughter were wed in mid-January. On the night of the wedding feast, Clio burst in uninvited and told everyone she was going to kill herself. No one took her seriously. She’d been threatening to take her own life for weeks by then. The next day, her body was found floating in the lake.“

The woman caught Gabrielle’s eye. “You must be wondering why I’m telling you this.”

Gabrielle nodded.

“I don’t want you to end up like Clio.” The woman replied.

***

Xena and Dimitrios headed north, away from where most of the human activity was. Along the way, she picked up the trail of the wolf pack. It wrapped around the lake to the north-east before turning south and then east again. Here, a small finger of rocky land protruded out into the lake, the only way in and out of a small but heavily forested island.

Without hesitation, Xena stepped onto the narrow strip of land and made her way over to the island. Behind her, Dimitrios had stopped. He eyed the narrow pathway dubiously, not willing to take the risk that he might lose his footing and fall into the lake. When Xena looked back at him in askance, he waved his hand at her, gesturing for her to go on ahead without him.

Sneaking into a wolf den was a fool’s errand. Xena knew that. Unlike men, who could overlook something right under their noses, wolves would smell and hear her coming from a mile away. If there were cubs in the den, things could get hairy. But from everything she’d heard about these wolves, she doubted there were any.

The first cave Xena came across was uninhabited. A short distance away was the smaller opening of a second cave. Xena smelled it long before she came upon it. She scrunched up her nose as she approached. The pungent smell of urine together with the presence of fresh wolf scat around the entrance all pointed to it being the wolf den.

Xena paused momentarily at the entrance and reconsidered the wisdom of walking into a tightly confined space with a pack of wild wolves, who were likely ready and waiting for her. Gabrielle would be pissed if she got hurt or killed but Xena figured she could hold her own. If it meant she could prevent even one more unnecessary death by stepping in there, it would be worth it.

Xena stooped over and cautiously made her way into the cave. She hadn’t gotten far when she heard a faint scratching sound coming from within. Not wanting to startle whatever was headed her way, Xena stopped in her tracks. Moments later, the silhouette of an adult wolf emerged from within the depths of the cave. Given that Xena had intruded on their den, the wolf was strangely relaxed and stood there regarding her curiously.

There wasn’t enough light in the cave to make out much detail about the wolf except the white around its nose and snout. The fur on the rest of its face was darker, but not by much. Xena wondered if this was perhaps the lead wolf bitch that Dimitrios had told her about. The wolf certainly had a regal air about it.

What struck Xena most, was its eyes. They were probably unremarkable, as wolf eyes went. At least colour wise. But there was an intelligence behind those eyes that felt oddly out of place.

The wolf took a step forward. When Xena didn’t budge, it issued a quiet growl. So Xena backed away. Wolf and warrior repeated this dance until Xena was fully out of the cave. The wolf then stepped out into the open. Its fur was a golden brown, tinged with white almost all over its body except its ears and rump which were mostly black.

It lowered its head and pointed its snout back the way Xena had come. It repeated this action a few times, looking almost frustrated when Xena refused to take the hint. The wolf finally drew back its ears and bared its fangs in a threatening manner. It was all for show. But Xena decided not to torment the wolf any further and retraced her steps off the island. She had gotten part of the answer she’d come for. At least now she had an inkling of what they could be up against.

***

Xena returned to the village, eager to tell Gabrielle everything she’d learned. However, the moment she pushed open the door to the house, it was clear something was wrong.

Gabrielle was seated at the dining table, which wasn’t alarming in itself. But she wasn’t doing anything. Not scribbling in her scrolls or having a snack. Nothing like that. She was just sitting there, staring down at the table, both her hands clenched into tight fists. One of her hands was on top of the table, the other was pressed against her thigh. Her body was rigid with tension, as if poised for fight or flight.

Xena quietly pulled the door shut and turned her attention to her fuming soulmate. “Gabrielle?”

“Oh… I’m so mad…” Gabrielle replied, her voice trembling with anger.

“What happened?” Xena asked.

“That woman! Ooh!” Gabrielle’s mouth opened and closed but she was so upset that the words would not come.

Someone had obviously done something to set Gabrielle off. Usually, that someone was Xena. But not this time. Which presented something of a conundrum for the warrior. Gabrielle wasn’t the type of person who repressed or internalised her emotions. She was more likely to vent them out, either verbally or physically. Xena should know. She’d been on the receiving end of more than one such outburst. However, without knowing what had Gabrielle so riled up, Xena was hesitant to poke the bear and potentially make things worse. So she went for the safer option. She tapped on their soul-link.

Using their soul bond, Xena mentally nudged Gabrielle’s shields. It was kind of like walking up to someone’s house and knocking on their door. When nothing happened the first time, Xena nudged harder until Gabrielle finally let her in.

Imagine walking into someone else’s dream. Except it wasn’t a dream but an actual memory. Xena could experience everything Gabrielle had, not only what she saw or heard, but also her emotions and even her thoughts—if Gabrielle chose to share those with her.

In this manner, Xena relived Gabrielle’s entire encounter with the woman, from their first interaction at the well, to the moment Gabrielle made her excuses and left. The memory of the woman triggered Gabrielle’s anger and frustration anew and as those emotions washed over Xena, she took them all into herself. And Gabrielle let her.

When Xena opened her eyes, all of the tension and anger had drained from Gabrielle. The bard just looked tired.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Xena took a seat across from Gabrielle, careful not to touch her. “It’s just what she was brought up to believe. It colours the way she sees the world. She doesn’t know any different.”

“Xena, she insulted you. Not once, but twice.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“That’s it? No ‘buts’?”

“No ‘buts’. I didn’t like the way she compared you to Clio though.”

“Neither did I. But now we know what Vasileios was hiding. It could be the missing piece.”

Xena nodded. She told Gabrielle about the she-wolf she’d encountered at the lake. “You know the story about the king who became a wolf?”

“King Lycaon? The one who was turned into a wolf for butchering a child and serving it to Zeus?”

“Weren’t his sons also turned into wolves?” Xena asked.

“There are conflicting accounts.” Gabrielle told her. “In one account, his sons were killed by lightning and King Lycaon was turned into a wolf when he fled the palace. In another, everyone at the banquet was turned into a wolf for consuming the child’s flesh. There’s also one which claims all of Lycaon’s children, except Nyctimus, were turned into wolves.”

“That was so long ago. What’re the chances they are still alive today? Even if they were, how did they get from Arcadia to here? Besides, after King Lycaon, Zeus was said to have turned other men into wolves. After nine years, they would regain their human form. Unless they consumed human flesh. Then they would remain wolves forever. But by forever, I mean only until they died of old age.” Gabrielle said.

“I’m not saying these wolves are his descendants.” Xena said. “It’s just… something about that she-wolf—makes me think it wasn’t always a wolf.”

***

Gabrielle grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, dipped her quill into her ink pot and started scribbling ferociously. “So… we have a woman who drowned herself in the lake and who had an axe to grind with the village headman. Then we have a pack of wolves living around the lake who might have once been people.”

Xena interjected. “Could be just the pack leader.”

“Right.” Gabrielle struck off the words she’d written and started over on a new line. “And we have the murders. Wolves, claw marks. Check. Lake, drowned woman with vendetta. Check.”

“Looks like it’s all here.” Gabrielle said, looking up from the parchment where she’d drawn lines to connect the different clues they’d gathered.

“Run me through what you’re thinking.” Xena said.

Gabrielle tapped the quill against her cheek as she thought out loud. “The wolves. Maybe there’s something at the lake that turns people into wolves. Or maybe it’s the wolves themselves. The lake is used not just by Myrithos but also the other villages in the area. If the lake was turning people into wolves, we would have heard of it before now. The murders started on the last day of January. Clio’s lifeless body was found in the lake middle of January.”

“It all tracks, doesn’t it?” Gabrielle said. “The reason the murders only happened in Myrithos is because of Clio. Her hatred for Vasileios and the unjust manner of her death could have woken something at the lake. Let’s say, for example, the wolves were cursed. And her spirit turned that curse on anyone from Myrithos who visited the lake.”

Xena nodded. Gabrielle had the same hypothesis she did. But there were a few things that were still unaccounted for. “It’s been six months since Clio’s death. I don’t think those six men were the only ones to go to the lake during that time. They were overwhelmed by emotion before they blacked out. The curse, if that’s what it is, could be triggered by their emotions.”

“That would make sense.” Gabrielle agreed. “Clio experienced very powerful emotions when she died. That could be why the curse works the same way.”

“If the curse isn’t targeted directly at the villagers, it should fade once they are away from the lake.” Xena added. “That would explain why more people weren’t killed. But some of the men weren’t at the lake on the day of the murders so we know the curse lasts more than a day, maybe two.”

“That means we need to stop the villagers from going to the lake.” Gabrielle said. “At least until we can find a way to break the curse.”

“We’ll have to tell Vasileios. As for the curse, I think we’ll need to speak with Clio’s spirit.” Xena said.

“It would have to be at night.” Gabrielle pointed out. “Just not tonight.”

“Tonight we need to keep a watch on—just in case. How are you feeling?” Xena asked.

“Exhausted. I need a long nap. But I’ll be good to go come sundown.”

“I’ll go update Vasileios. You wanna come along or you wanna get started on that nap?”

“I think I’ll take that nap. You should get some shut eye too.” Gabrielle told Xena.

“Alright, I’ll join you in a bit.”

***

Xena woke up before dusk and went to feed the horses and brush them down. Once that was done, she refilled the water trough with fresh water then picked up drinks and dinner from the tavern.

Back at the house, she woke Gabrielle and they sat down to eat dinner together before heading out for the night.

“How do you want to do this?” Gabrielle asked.

“We each take half of the village. Do you want the eastern or western half?”

“Western. So that’s from the village entrance to the well at the centre?”

“Yeah. I’ll start at the well, you start at the entrance. That way, we’ll be able to cover more of the village than if we both start at the well.”

Technically, it didn’t make much of a difference. The village was big enough that it was unlikely either of them would hear a murder being committed three doors down from where they were, especially not the kind of murders that had been happening in Myrithos. But if they did, one or both of them would be able to arrive at the scene much faster than if they had started their patrol routes the other way around.

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. So you need to be careful.” Xena told Gabrielle.

“Didn’t we already agree that we’re dealing with wolves? I think I can hold my own against one wolf.” Gabrielle shot back.

“We don’t know anything about the curse.” Xena pointed out. “It could be turning people into regular wolves. Or giant wolves. Or even a wolf man.”

“A wolf man?”

“The Turks call them ‘Kurtadam’ which translates to wolf man. I’ve never seen one myself but I’ve heard that the Turkic shamans can transform themselves into a half man half wolf being.” Xena explained.

“You did say the claw marks looked like they were made by a human hand. If that’s the case, we could be dealing with a wolf man here. I wonder how that works though. Do they have tails? Or is it only their hands and feet that transform?”

Xena shrugged. She didn’t know either but they were definitely more dangerous than a regular wolf. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’ll be careful.” Gabrielle promised.

“If you hear anything, let me know before you investigate. I don’t want you running into danger by yourself.”

Gabrielle shot her soulmate a look of exasperation. “Xena, I can take care of myself. You know that, don’t you? Or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten. I just worry.”

“I said I’ll be careful.”

“I would feel better if I were with you.”

“Xena, I’m not going to wait around if I can stop someone from being murdered.”

“Gabrielle, I’m not asking you to. I wouldn’t wait around either if someone was dying. I just want a heads up before you go rushing in. Can you do that?”

Gabrielle appeared to mull it over. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She would have done it even if Xena hadn’t insisted on it. But because Xena had, Gabrielle was being stubborn. She didn’t like the way her soulmate had been hovering over her since they’d both found out about her pregnancy. Then again, Xena had always been overprotective when it came to her well-being so it was possible that Gabrielle was just overreacting to what she perceived as patronising behaviour from her soulmate.

It was normal to worry. Gabrielle worried for Xena too. “I can do that. And you’ll do the same?”

“I will.”

***

On this night, the village was anything but peaceful. Vasileios had gathered the villagers together just after dusk to announce that the lake would be off limits until further notice. He did not offer any explanation other than that it was a precautionary measure.

Given that Vasileios himself had been at the heart of the scandal that had culminated in a young woman drowning herself in the lake, speculation was rife. Was the young woman’s death somehow related to the grisly murders? The timeline certainly matched. But could that young woman actually be responsible for the murders? It seemed unfathomable.

And yet, many of the women felt vindicated. Here at last, was proof that their misgivings about the lake hadn’t been unfounded. They hadn’t been imagining things. They had sensed something in the air around the lake, something malevolent—something that caused the hairs on the back of their necks to stand eerily to attention.

Even though Clio’s body had been retrieved and funeral rites performed, some of the women believed that her spirit had lingered instead of moving on to the afterlife; that her premature death had doomed her to haunt the place of her death until she had exacted revenge on everyone who had wronged her.

Once dark fell and the curfew kicked in, the rampant discussions about the murders and their connection to Clio’s death moved indoors. Behind closed doors, these discussions quickly took on a life of their own, giving rise to some fairly outlandish theories. Some of these discussions even turned contentious, with more than one ending in a shouting match between the dissenting parties.

All the noise and chaos made the soulmates’ task all the more harder. They now knew that the transformation from man to killer was preceded by strong emotions, whether negative or positive. Identifying those emotions amidst all the hubbub would be challenging at best. Everyone knew the obvious signs—the verbal altercations, the cries, the shouts, the laughter, and the raised voices. Those were easy to pinpoint.

But the silences? Those were harder. Powerful emotions could hide behind silence as well. Maybe even more so. Xena wasn’t good with emotions. That meant she wasn’t good at identifying them either. Except, perhaps fear and anger. As a warrior and an ex-warlord, she didn’t really bother herself with the other emotions. And it wasn’t like she gave two shits about what other people felt either. At least, that had been pre-Gabrielle. After Gabrielle entered her life, Xena had become better at reading emotions, especially when it came to people she was more familiar with. Unfortunately, with strangers, and when dealing with the more nuanced emotions, it was still hit-and-miss.

That was why Xena found herself deliberately slowing down at each door. She would listen for a while before moving on. Someone’s life could be on the line tonight. Xena could not afford to make any mistakes.

Whenever she came across a particularly heated argument, she would knock on the door. This was more to defuse the situation than it was about getting the occupants to open up. Once the people inside settled down and she was sure they were not in any danger, Xena would move on.

It took Xena nearly two hours to reach the end of the village. As she turned around to head back to the well, she wondered how Gabrielle was doing.

***

Gabrielle liked to believe that she was a fairly good judge of character. She certainly had a knack when it came to reading people. Maybe it was because she was more in tune with her feelings, and her ability to recognise her own emotions helped her identify those same emotions in others. Or maybe it was because of her empathy.

For this reason, Gabrielle started the night very confident in her ability to read the mood of the villagers and identify any interactions that could potentially trigger Clio’s curse. Somehow, she had forgotten that the doors and windows would be closed after dark and that she would not be able to observe the villagers in person.

Without any visual cues, Gabrielle had to depend solely on verbal cues, which was easier said than done. Even though she had the advantage of being younger, her hearing wasn’t as acute as Xena’s. As she passed each house, all Gabrielle could hear was muffled conversation. It was impossible to make out any actual words, much less the nuances behind those words.

This made Gabrielle antsy. Someone could die tonight. And the difference between that someone living or dying could very well come down to her. Gabrielle thought long and hard about it. If she didn’t have any visual cues, and she couldn’t hear well enough to pick up on verbal cues, then what recourse was left to her?

She remembered how Xena often joked that Gabrielle had a sixth sense when it came to people. Gabrielle had always dismissed it as hogwash. But could her soulmate actually be right? Xena often came across as somewhat of an uncultured brute, someone who had more brawns than brains, and who was more likely to kick butts first and ask questions later. But there was an astute mind hidden behind that dumb warrior façade.

If Xena was right about Gabrielle having a sixth sense, how was she supposed to tap into it? As Gabrielle considered the possibilities, she realised she could already have the answer. These past few months had been particularly eventful. After Jappa, she’d learned that Xena was her soulmate and that they were connected via a metaphysical bond they generally referred to as their soul-link. Thanks to this bond, Gabrielle had been introduced to the world of metaphysics, where she’d learned and experienced many things she never thought possible before.

What if she applied that same knowledge to her supposed sixth sense? Gabrielle closed her eyes and tried to expand her senses outwards. For the longest time, nothing happened. So Gabrielle switched up her approach. Instead of trying to actively search with her sixth sense, she fell into a meditative state, using the techniques she’d learned to still her mind and open herself up to her surroundings.

As Gabrielle allowed the surroundings to come to her, she noticed a subtle shift in her perception. Her sense of hearing wasn’t any sharper and she couldn’t see through walls. But now she could vaguely sense the people within. Gabrielle didn’t know how to describe it. She slowed her pace and focused on each house she passed, tuning in to the people inside. She made it to the well without noticing anything out of the ordinary. Doubt began to creep into her head once again. Was she really tapping into something? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?

Gabrielle decided to stick with it. She turned and started making her way back towards the village entrance. Just past the halfway mark, Gabrielle stopped. Her attention was drawn to a house on her left, just one door down. She walked towards it, still unsure of what had caught her attention.

Just as she reached the door, her sixth sense went into overdrive. Gabrielle jiggled the door handle but it was locked. Bracing herself, she took a few steps back and drove her shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. Instead, Gabrielle bounced off it like a rag doll. She muttered something unladylike under her breath then cocked her leg back and aimed a kick just below the door handle. As the door sprang wide open, a high-pitched scream erupted from within.

Gabrielle had the presence of mind to call Xena telepathically before she rushed inside.

***

The scene that greeted Gabrielle could have come right out of a motion picture—that is, if motion pictures had been invented in the time of ancient Greece. A monster stood just inside the doorway, having somehow miraculously avoided being hit by the slamming door. It had the head and face of a wolf, complete with a protruding snout and elongated canines. Its muscular body was covered in thick black fur. It had long sharp claws on both its hands and feet which had largely retained their human form. And it was dressed, in a simple linen tunic that had somehow survived the transformation unscathed.

Behind the monster, a young woman cowered on the ground, her eyes screwed shut, her hands wrapped over her head in a futile attempt at protection. She was shaking like a leaf. Gabrielle reached for her sais just as the monster came towards her.

“Duck!” Xena barked.

Gabrielle obeyed and Xena launched herself over her soulmate, knocking the monster to the ground.

The warrior wrapped her arms firmly around the wolf man, pinning his hands and those sharp claws to his side. “Gabrielle, get that woman out of here. I’ll take care of this.”

The wolf man thrashed violently beneath her. He was strong, almost as strong as Hercules. Xena grunted. She was losing her grip. “Gabrielle, I need both of you out of here. Now! Close the door on your way out. And don’t let anyone in here.”

Gabrielle quickly sprang into action. She ran over to the woman and grabbed her arm. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

The woman looked up at her, terrified out of her wits. “What is that thing?” She asked.

“Now is not the time for questions.” Gabrielle told her sternly. She pulled the woman to her feet and dragged her unceremoniously out the door.

Once they were gone and the door was closed, Xena stared into the beast’s blood red eyes. She was hoping to reason with it. But there was no one home, only an angry wolf.

Xena reminded herself that the beast was actually a man, an innocent man. One who had fallen victim to a vengeful woman’s curse. Xena didn’t want to hurt him if she didn’t have to. While it was possible the act of transformation would heal him of any wounds or injuries she inflicted, Xena couldn’t take the risk. Besides, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t die before he could transform.

She thought of using the pinch on him. But Xena wasn’t sure it would work. Even if a wolf man had pressure points, they wouldn’t be in the same location as they would in a man. Additionally, pressure points worked on humans because of their aversion to pain and death. A wolf man, especially one possessed by the curse, would likely not care either way.

That left her with just one option. She needed to choke it out. Every living thing, whether man or beast, needed air to live. If that air was cut off, they lost consciousness. It was as simple as that. Xena was hoping the wolf man would transform back once that happened. Though she wouldn’t be too upset if he didn’t. Once unconscious, it would be easy enough to lock the wolf man up until the transformation occurred naturally.

She shifted her grip, trying to figure out the best way to choke the wolf man while staying clear of the claws on his hands. In the position they were in, she wasn’t too concerned about the claws on his feet.

Xena quickly realised that she would have to let go of her grip on the wolf man. There was no way she would be able to get anywhere near his neck while she had her arms wrapped around him. In fact, there was no way she would be able to restrain his hands while she suffocated him. It was starting to look like she would have to take some hits from those claws after all.

The wolf man took the decision out of Xena’s hands. He snapped at her with those powerful jaws of his and she instinctively jerked her head back. The sudden movement caused her to loosen her grip momentarily. He broke free.

***

Somehow, Xena managed to grab his wrists with both her hands. The two of them tussled for control, neither letting up. But the wolf man had an extra weapon he could bring into play. He snapped at Xena, time and again, until he was finally able to flip the warrior onto her back.

Trapped under the wolf man, Xena knew her time was limited. She had to act now, and act fast. So when he opened his jaw to snap at her again, she let go of his right wrist and forced her left forearm horizontally into his mouth. His teeth raked against her leather vambrace as she pushed, hard. He tried to move his head away and Xena used the opportunity to turn the tables on him.

She rolled him onto his back and pushed her forearm deeper into his mouth until it was lodged firmly in between his back teeth. She would rather take her chance with his claws than his jaws. Xena let go of his other wrist, and twisted her body awkwardly around until she could get her right upper arm under his lower jaw and up against his throat.

The wolf man flailed away at her with his clawed hands. Some of the blows caught in her breastplate and some slid harmlessly off her leather armour. But some of them got through, mostly on her arms and face but Xena ignored them all.

She pushed down harder with her upper arm. But the wolf man didn’t appear to be weakening. Blood from the wound on her cheek, dripped down the side of her face, onto her arm and into the wolf man’s mouth. Xena was contemplating her next move when he started convulsing violently under her. Concerned, she let up on the pressure and pushed herself up and away from him, her body primed and ready just in case it was a ruse.

But it wasn’t a ruse. She watched silently as the wolf man transformed right in front of her eyes. The fur receded and his skin rippled, as if warring with itself. And then it was done. A man lay on the ground before her, a man who looked familiar. His tunic was stained in places with her blood. He looked like he was sleeping.

Xena checked the man’s pulse. He was alive and seemingly unharmed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The door chose that moment to burst open once again. It was Gabrielle. She noticed the man on the ground but all of her focus was on her soulmate. “Xena, you’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse.” Xena pointed to the young man lying peacefully on the ground. “I seem to have seen him before. Do you know who he is?”

Gabrielle stepped further into the house and took a closer look at the man. “It’s Andreas, the young man who helped me with the initial interviews.”

Now that Xena had a name to go with the face, she remembered. “He’s probably going to be out for a while. How’s the woman?”

“She wasn’t hurt. Her scream brought half the village running.”

“Are they still out there?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “It’s just Vasileios, Dimitrios, Michail and Rhea. Vasileios sent everyone back home.”

“Who’s Michail?”

“The healer. Didn’t you speak with him?”

“I never got his name.”

“We should probably let them in. And then we can get you cleaned up.” Gabrielle popped her head out the door and said, “It’s safe to come in now.”

***

The healer and his apprentice were the first to enter. They knelt down beside Andreas and gave him a thorough once over. Despite their intense struggle, the young man showed no signs of having sustained any injuries and the healer gave him a clean bill of health. When Xena refused his help with her injuries, the healer shrugged, took his apprentice and left.

That left Vasileios and Dimitrios. While Andreas technically wasn’t a murderer, he had transformed into a dangerous man beast. Not that anyone had witnessed that transformation. His wife, the young woman whom Gabrielle had dragged out of the house, wasn’t even aware that the beast had been her husband, though the tunic it was wearing should have been a dead giveaway.

According to the wife, she’d been in the midst of an argument with Andreas but had her back to him when there was a loud thud against their door. Startled, she turned and spotted the half man half wolf creature standing by the door.

The only person to have witnessed Andreas’ transformation from wolf man back to human form was Xena. And neither Vasileios nor Dimitrios had any reason to doubt her account. Drawn by the scream, both men had rushed over just in time to see Gabrielle exit the house with Andreas’ wife in tow. They, together with nearly half the village had heard the animalistic growls that had come from the house as Xena attempted to subdue the wolf man.

For the safety of everyone in the village, Vasileios insisted Andreas be locked up in the village store house and firmly restrained with ropes until they could be sure he was no longer a danger to himself or to others. Xena and Gabrielle thought it was a little excessive. Andreas was deeply unconscious and unlikely to rouse before mid-morning.

If the other men were any indication, there was no reason to believe Andreas would undergo a second transformation. However, unlike the other incidents, no one had died. Xena and Gabrielle didn’t know enough about the curse to say with any certainty that it would not take hold of Andreas again. So they held their peace and let the headman do as he pleased.

Vasileios and Dimitrios carried the unconscious Andreas to the store house. Both Xena and Gabrielle had offered to help but were waved away. So they followed behind. Andreas was trussed up with a sturdy length of rope and the door to the store house was locked and bolted.

“We’ll want to speak with him tomorrow.” Gabrielle told the headman.

Vasileios nodded. “I’ll send someone to get you when he wakes. It’s been a long day. Both of you should get some rest. Are you sure you don’t want the healer to tend to your injuries?” This last part was directed at Xena.

Xena shook her head. “We can take care of it ourselves.”

***

The soulmates returned to the house and Gabrielle sat Xena down at the dining table. She helped the warrior out of her breastplate and pauldrons then brought a lamp closer to examine the injuries on Xena’s arms. Most of the blood had dried, causing the leather rerebrace and vambrace to stick to her wounds.

“I’m going to have to wash the blood off first.” Gabrielle said. “Stay here.”

Gabrielle returned shortly with a clean cloth and a basin of water. She soaked the cloth in the water, wrung out the excess water and gently ran it over the edges of Xena’s left rerebrace, softening the caked blood around it. Gabrielle did this a few more times until she was able to remove the rerebrace. She then repeated the process on the right arm.

When that was done, Gabrielle turned her attention to Xena’s right vambrace then the left. The left vambrace was absolutely mangled, looking very much like a dog’s beloved chew toy. There were rips and tears in the leather and Gabrielle even spotted four ragged puncture marks left by the wolf man’s carnassials teeth, which were located near the back of the jaw. Those were the result of Xena forcing her vambrace into the wolf man’s mouth, to stop him from snapping her head off.

Gabrielle carefully worked on the left vambrace. When it finally came off, she clucked in disapproval. Even though the reinforced leather of the vambrace had clearly taken the brunt of the damage, the outside of Xena’s forearm was badly gashed.

By now, the water in the basin was a bloody mess. So Gabrielle threw the water out and returned with more clean water. She removed the rest of Xena’s armour, just to make sure that her soulmate didn’t have any other injuries, then proceed to wipe Xena’s face and arms clean. Once that was done, she let Xena wipe herself down then threw out the dirty water again.

This time, when Gabrielle returned, she had a bottle of vinegar and a sea sponge with her. She poured the vinegar onto the sponge then pulled up a chair next to Xena and sat down. “You ready?”

“G’wan then.”

Gabrielle started with the slashes on Xena’s face and worked her way downwards. On the whole, Xena’s injuries appeared relatively minor. Most of them were already starting to scab over and they would be fully healed by noon, maybe earlier. The worst injury, was the one on Xena’s left forearm. The gashes were fairly deep and it was still actively bleeding. Gabrielle wiped the surrounding tissue with the sponge then pressed it firmly into the wound itself.

Xena grunted.

Gabrielle looked up apologetically. “Sorry. Did that hurt?”

“It burns.” Vinegar often stung when applied to fresh wounds. But this was more like the burning sensation that came with being bitten by a dozen fire ants.

“I’m almost done.” Gabrielle told her. “I’m going to need to bandage this.”

Xena nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Gabrielle left briefly then returned with a strip of clean cloth. She wound this around Xena’s forearm, not tight enough to cut off the blood flow but tight enough that it wouldn’t slip off by accident.

“That should do it.” Gabrielle said, patting Xena affectionately on the knee. “What do you say we head to bed now? I’m knackered.”

“Gabrielle… wait.” Xena stood up and entered the bedroom. A few moments later, she returned and handed a small square of cloth to Gabrielle. “I want you to hold on to this for me.”

“What is it?” Gabrielle asked, curious.

“I was going to give it to you at our wedding.”

“Oh…” Gabrielle was at a loss for words.

It’d only been a week since Xena had proposed and Gabrielle had said yes. When Gabrielle had married Perdicus, it had been such a rushed affair that they’d only had a simple ceremony at the temple where a priest had blessed their union. They hadn’t exchanged any wedding tokens or vows or anything like that. “I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“Gabrielle, you don’t have to get me anything. It’s just… a token, you know?”

“Xena, why are you giving it to me now?”

“I didn’t want anything to happen to it before I could give it to you.”

“Xena, what could possibly happen to it before our wedding?”

By way of answer, Xena gestured to her damaged armour. The integrity of the leather had been compromised on almost every piece. She would need to change to a new set.

Gabrielle could see Xena’s point. She took the package from her soulmate and ran her fingers over the outline of the item inside. It appeared to be a circular piece of what felt like jewellery. Could this be a wedding bracelet? Like the one Xena had exchanged with Petracles? “Can I open it?”

“I would rather you wait for our wedding.”

“Xena, you know the suspense is going to eat away at me. Is this your idea of torture?”

Xena reached out her hand, palm up. “If that’s the case, I’ll hold on to it.”

Gabrielle tucked the package away in her bra top. “You can’t have it back. It’s mine now.“ She pushed herself up onto her tippy-toes and kissed Xena on her uninjured cheek. ”Thank you.“

***

Xena and Gabrielle stopped by the storage room just before noon the next day.

“Has his wife been to see him?” Gabrielle asked as they waited for Vasileios to unlock the door.

“She’s still in shock. Michail thinks we should not tell her about Andreas until she’s better.” Vasileios replied. He pulled the door open and stepped back to let them pass.

Gabrielle thanked him. “We won’t be long.”

The moment they crossed the threshold, the door swung shut behind them. It seemed Vasileios wasn’t taking any chances.

Andreas’ hands and feet were still bound together with rope. He had to position his back against the wall and push with his feet just to get himself into a semi-comfortable sitting position. He’d woken an hour earlier with no memory of how he got there or why he was being restrained. Despite having shouted for help several times, no one had come—until now.

That it was the two outsiders who came told Andreas everything he needed to know. He craned his neck to look up at them. “Danae, my wife… Is she… Did I?”

Gabrielle crouched down beside Andreas while Xena remained standing by the door. “She had a bit of a fright but she should be alright.”

Andreas sagged in relief. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“What do you remember?” Gabrielle asked him.

“We’d been arguing. The headman said we aren’t to go to the lake and I’d just been. Danae wasn’t too happy about it. She thinks it’s haunted—that we should not invite trouble into our house. She was right, wasn’t she?”

Gabrielle frowned. It didn’t sound like it had been a particularly heated argument. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t recall hearing any raised voices before her sixth sense had kicked in. Were they wrong about what triggered the transformation? “Did it make you angry? The argument?”

“Not at first. I wasn’t happy about it. But it wasn’t anything to get angry about either.”

“So what happened?” Gabrielle asked.

“We were done with the argument. Danae went to the kitchen. I was in the dining room thinking about the murders. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I became angry.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Do you remember anything after that?”

Andreas shook his head slowly. “Will you tell me?”

“What’s important is that no one got hurt.” Gabrielle told him. Technically, Xena had been hurt. But he didn’t need to know that.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Andreas asked.

Gabrielle stood up. “I can’t answer that question. That will be up to Vasileios.” At his forlorn expression, she added, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. As I said, no one got hurt.”

“Please tell the headman I would like to speak with him.”

“I’ll pass the message along.” Gabrielle said.

Xena knocked on the door and it opened immediately. Once they were out, Vasileios closed the door again.

“He wants to speak with you.” Gabrielle told the village headman.

“You think it’s safe? Getting in there with him?” Vasileios asked.

“He’s going to need food and water. You can’t just leave him there to starve.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“None of this is his fault.” Xena pointed out. “He’s all tied up. If it makes you feel any better, you can bring Dimitrios in there with you.”

“Alright.” Vasileios conceded. “You’re headed for the lake today?”

“Yes.”

“What are you hoping to find?”

“Answers.”

***

Xena and Gabrielle dropped by the tavern for lunch then returned to the house to pack their belongings.

Gabrielle had been thinking about Andreas’ account of the events preceding his transformation and how it differed from the other men. All the six men Gabrielle previously interviewed had reported experiencing a strong emotion brought on by their interactions with the victims. Andreas was the only one who had the emotion suddenly come over him without any apparent provocation. This suggested that the curse was taking a more active role than it previously had.

The murders had started out fast and furious, with four people killed within the first five weeks. That was almost one murder a week. After that initial flurry, a full ten weeks passed before the fifth victim was killed. The sixth murder happened three weeks later. And last night’s incident was a whole month after that.

While most of the villagers had been wary about visiting the lake after Clio’s suicide, it was the murders that had finally pushed their caution into high gear. With fewer people going to the lake, the number of villagers being exposed to Clio’s curse dropped exponentially. Add that to the specific parameters required to trigger the curse, and it was no surprise that the frequency of the murders had slowed down.

Gabrielle could not imagine Clio’s spirit being happy about that. It could be the reason why the curse now manufactured the emotions needed to trigger the transformation instead of waiting for the emotion to occur naturally. That would certainly drive the body count up and increase the pressure on Vasileios.

They had to find a way to convince Clio’s spirit to give up her personal vendetta. That was why they were headed to the lake. It was unlikely they were coming back so Gabrielle went around the house one last time to check that she hadn’t accidentally left anything behind.

Back at the dining table, Gabrielle noticed that Xena had changed to a new set of armour, one of three that the oriental dragons had gifted the warrior before their departure. Her injuries appeared to be fully healed. At least on the surface. But Gabrielle hadn’t yet had time to check under the bandage.

“How’s the arm?”

“It’s coming along.” Xena hedged.

The fact that her soulmate hadn’t dismissed her concern outright gave Gabrielle pause. “Let me take a look at it.”

Xena did not protest or offer any form of resistance as Gabrielle sat her down and carefully removed the leather vambrace. Underneath it was a bloodstained bandage. The stains were bright red, not a dirty brown. This was fresh. When she unwrapped the bandage, she noticed that the gashes were still seeping blood.

“Xena, this doesn’t look like it’s healing.” In fact, the wound looked almost exactly as raw and fresh as it had the night before.

“It’s not infected, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“We should at least stop the bleeding. I’ll go find some cobwebs.” Gabrielle turned to go but Xena stopped her.

“I already tried that. It’s not healing. Could be the curse.”

Gabrielle frowned. She had never heard of curses being transmitted by saliva. Maybe they had been thinking about this all wrong. “Xena… do you think the wolves and the curse could be related to something other than King Lycaon?”

“Is there some other folklore about wolves I’m not aware of?” Xena asked.

Gabrielle’s mind drifted back to an incident that had happened in her second year with Xena. “Do you remember the wolves we encountered outside the Bacchae Forest? They were chasing Orpheus.“

“You think the wolves could be bacchae?”

“Think about it, Xena. The bacchae are said to have an unquenchable thirst for blood. That would explain the brutal murders. And we both know what happens with a bacchae bite.”

Gabrielle shuddered at the memory. It had been her inattention that had allowed her to fall victim to the bacchae. She’d been young and naïve back then. She was none of those things now.

Xena patted Gabrielle’s thigh in sympathy. She remembered that night vividly, especially the very moment Gabrielle had her all vulnerable and exposed. And of course, the eroticism of it all. It had taken Xena a hot minute to scrub that incident from her mind. It had taken her more than twice as long before she could look at Gabrielle without having a dozen inappropriate thoughts about her young companion.

“We’re a long way from the bacchae forest, Gabrielle. I’m not dismissing it completely. But if those wolves were actually bacchae, we would have heard about wolf attacks happening in the forest around the lake. There have been none. Besides, it wasn’t a bacchae that bit me.”

“Xena, I don’t like this. The bite marks not healing could just be the beginning. We don’t know what else it might do.”

“You mean like me turning furry?” Xena half joked, earning her a glare from Gabrielle.

On a more serious note, Xena said, “I don’t like it either. That’s why we need to get to the bottom of this—soon.”

“Xena, if something happens to you…” Gabrielle trailed off, unwilling to give voice to her fears. Her lips thinned and her features hardened as she made up her mind. “Xena, before we go any further, you need to let me in on the plan.”

***

Xena allowed Gabrielle to clean the wound and redress it before she slipped her vambrace back on. She wasn’t against the idea of sharing her plan with Gabrielle beforehand. She just thought that it would be easier once they arrived at the lake and Gabrielle could see the layout of the land for herself. But her soulmate’s concerns were valid.

If there was a chance she was afflicted by the curse, she had to make sure Gabrielle knew the plan before they went anywhere near the lake. Nothing they’d learned so far suggested that the curse or the transformation was triggered by the proximity to where Clio had taken her life. That didn’t necessarily preclude the lake from interacting with the curse—in her or in her wound—in some other way. They had to be prepared for every eventuality.

Using their soul-link, Xena walked Gabrielle through the lake and its surrounding areas. She showed Gabrielle where Clio’s body had been found and where she’d followed the wolf tracks to the small island on the lake. Both of these areas would be important.

The plan was two-pronged. The first part was to find out where the curse had originated from. The key to that, Xena believed, was the wolf she’d encountered and the island on which it had made its den.

If the wolf was a descendant of King Lycaon, was it her presence that made it possible for Clio to curse the villagers into transforming, or was it something else? If the wolf was a bacchae, as Gabrielle had postulated, that begged the question: was Bacchus still alive? And could he be involved?

Once they identified the source of the curse, they would need to either lift the curse or nullify it. This part of the plan would be handled by Xena.

The second part was for Gabrielle to convince Clio’s spirit to give up her quest for vengeance. They knew where the spirit was likely to linger, which was where she’d taken her life. The hard part was getting the spirit to reveal itself. Xena and Gabrielle hadn’t been in Myrithos when Clio was alive so she wouldn’t know their connection to the village.

They could bring Vasileios along. He was the one whom Clio felt most betrayed by. His presence would certainly bring Clio running—if not to kill him personally, then to curse him. For what better revenge is there than for Vasileios to turn into a wolf man and kill his new bride with his own hands?

That was why Xena was leaving Vasileios out of it. He wasn’t innocent, at least when it came to Clio. But his ‘crimes’ weren’t so egregious that he deserved to die for them. And his wife certainly should not have to pay for his mistakes with her life.

Without Vasileios, Gabrielle would have to be creative in her efforts to get Clio to reveal herself. Or if everything else failed, she could just wait until the first part of the plan was complete. That would be sure to get the spirit’s attention. Obviously, this part of the plan would be handled by Gabrielle.

***

After further discussion, Gabrielle finally prevailed upon Xena to make some changes to the plan. It would still be a two-pronged approach but instead of splitting up, they would stay together. And instead of both parts of the plan being carried out concurrently, they would finish the first part before moving on to the second.

It wasn’t because the original plan was flawed. Gabrielle just wanted to have eyes on Xena at all times. She was understandably concerned about her soulmate’s welfare and did not like the idea of being separated from her at this critical juncture.

They set out on Jason and Argo, heading north-east until they reached the forest where they changed to a more easterly direction. Once they arrived at the lake, they followed the shoreline to the entrance of the island. From there, they retreated into the nearby forest to make camp.

There was almost six hours of daylight left but they couldn’t bring the horses with them so it made sense to set up camp before they embarked on their search of the island.

Xena gathered firewood and cleared an area for a campfire. She put the tinder, and kindling on the ground and placed a circle of rocks around it. She placed the rest of the firewood outside the circle then selected three boulders from the surrounding area and placed them around the campfire to serve as seats.

Gabrielle cleared the sleeping area of rocks, branches and the like, getting it ready for their bedrolls. Obviously, they would not be laying out their bedrolls right now—they would just get dirty. She was almost done when a loud whinny caused her to look up in the direction of the horses.

The first thing Gabrielle saw was her soulmate. Xena was down on one knee; one hand resting on the ground, the other on her bent knee. Her shoulders were rounded over and her head hung down, as if she was about to throw up all over the ground. Above her, Argo was clearly agitated and she let out another loud whinny, this one more demanding.

Gabrielle shot to her feet, alarmed. “Xena?”

In the few seconds it took Gabrielle to get to her soulmate, Xena was already back on her feet. Sweat poured down her face and beaded her upper lip. Her face was oddly flushed and even with one hand braced against a tree trunk, she was obviously unsteady on her feet.

Gabrielle grabbed her soulmate’s arm and Xena sagged against her. “You’re burning up. Let’s get you seated down first.” She helped her soulmate over to one of the boulders where Xena half fell half collapsed to the ground.

The warrior was clearly out of it. Her eyes were closed, her legs sprawled out before her. The only thing keeping her upright was the boulder at her back. When Gabrielle removed Xena’s vambrace, she noticed immediately that the bandage was now stained black. She unwound the bandage, revealing more of the same black substance underneath. Gabrielle went to her saddlebag and took out a waterskin and a clean cloth. She wet the cloth and tried to clean the black substance off. It looked suspiciously like ash mixed in with animal fat.

Even after she’d cleaned it all up, the black gooey substance continued to ooze from Xena’s wound. Gabrielle gingerly took a sniff. The wound didn’t smell infected. Instead, it smelled like the ash left behind when a campfire had burnt out. Gabrielle redressed the wound and stood up.

She took Xena’s bedroll and bed furs out of Argo’s saddlebag. She laid the bedroll on the ground she’d cleared earlier, as close as she could get it to where Xena was seated. Bed furs in hand, Gabrielle returned to her soulmate and shook Xena until she opened her eyes. “Can you get up? I think you should lie down.” Gabrielle pointed to the bedroll.

Xena grunted what Gabrielle took to be a yes. She bent down to grab Xena under her armpit. With her help, the warrior managed to climb shakily to her feet. Somehow, they made it the short distance to the bedroll. Gabrielle bundled Xena up in her bed furs and laid her down.

***

Before they left the Southern Forest Clan, Bi Dan, the chief assistant of the clan healer, had given them packets of various herbs that could be used to treat common illnesses and injuries. Bi Dan had packed the herbs into individual doses to make it easier for the soulmates to use on the road. Gabrielle rummaged through the packets and picked out one labelled ‘fever’.

She dumped the contents into a pot of water to brew while she returned to Xena’s side. They had left Myrithos with enough water to last them for three days. It was a simple precautionary measure since the lake was the only source of water available in these parts. And they did not want to use water from the lake until it was no longer cursed.

Now, less than an hour after arriving at the lake, Gabrielle had already used up more than half a day’s ration of water. Some of it had gone to cleaning Xena’s wound but the majority had been used to cool Xena down and to brew the herbs. If this continued, they could run out of water as early as noon tomorrow.

Gabrielle knelt down beside the basin, removed the warm cloth from Xena’s forehead and replaced it with a fresh cool one. The warrior had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last half hour. Sometimes, when Xena regained consciousness, she would be lucid. At other times, she would be delusional.

It was eerily reminiscent of the time Xena had sustained severe internal injuries while saving Gabrielle and some villagers from a group of crazed moon and star worshippers. Then, Gabrielle had made the long difficult trek to Mount Nestus only to watch helplessly as Xena slipped away from her. That incident had left a deep scar on her psyche, one that Gabrielle still hadn’t recovered from to this day.

Suddenly, Xena stirred, seemingly caught in a fever dream. “Solon… Don’t go…”

Gabrielle, still lost in the painful memories of Mount Nestus, startled. As Xena’s words sunk in, she shouted. “No! No, no, no, no!” She grabbed Xena’s shoulders, shaking her hard. “Xena, you’re not going with him.”

“Lyceus… It’s been so long…”

“No! Xena, wake up. I need you more than they do. Xena, wake up!” Gabrielle half lifted her soulmate off the ground, shaking her until she finally opened her eyes.

Disoriented, it took Xena’s eyes a while to focus on her soulmate. “Gabrielle? I saw Solon… and Lyceus…” She closed her eyes, as if drifting out of consciousness.

Gabrielle couldn’t afford to let that happen, not when there was a chance she could lose her soulmate all over again. “Xena, look at me.” She ordered.

Perhaps it was the seriousness of her tone or perhaps Xena had only been resting her eyes. Whatever the reason, Xena opened them and blinked blearily at her soulmate. “Gabrielle…”

“Yes. It’s me. Xena, I need you to pay attention. I need you. Do you hear me? I need you to stay here with me.”

“Okay…”

“You can’t leave me again.” Gabrielle’s voice was choked with tears.

“I’m… not going… anywhere… We’re… to be married…” Xena gave Gabrielle a goofy smile. “I can’t wait… to kiss the bride…”

Gabrielle forced a smile of her own through her tears. “I’m holding you to that promise.”

***

Gabrielle had done everything she could for Xena. She’d wrapped her up in her bed furs, kept her hydrated, cooled her down using wet cloths, and given her herbs for her fever. However, Gabrielle understood she wouldn’t get anywhere by merely treating the symptoms.

She needed to treat the cause. Since the wound on Xena’s arm was caused by a wolf man, it was only logical that Gabrielle needed to address the underlying curse. To do that, she had to identify the source first. She already knew where to look. It was the reason they were even camped out here in the first place.

Still, Gabrielle didn’t like the idea of leaving Xena alone in the camp. Given the warrior’s condition, she wouldn’t notice someone standing right in front of her, much less be able to defend herself if the need arose. But Gabrielle couldn’t afford to waste any more daylight.

She would have to entrust her soulmate’s safety to someone else—someone who would not hesitate to give their life to keep Xena safe. She walked up to Argo. “I have to leave for a bit. She’s… Can you guard her until I return?”

Argo lowered her head and blew hot air into Gabrielle’s ear.

Gabrielle squirmed and moved her head out of the way. “Argo, that tickled… You could have just said yes.”

Argo gave a disapproving harrumph and backed away, shaking her head from side to side. When Gabrielle gave her a confused look, the mare reared up slightly, pulling on her lead line then shook her head again.

“Oh… Sorry… Forgot about that.” Gabrielle unclipped the lead line. “Better?”

The palomino mare nickered, happy to be free of her tether. It then proceeded to nudge Gabrielle away from the camp.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Gabrielle crossed the narrow isthmus and entered the island proper. Her knowledge of the island was limited to what Xena had shared with her. She knew where the wolf den was but not much of anything else. Xena hadn’t made any attempts to explore the island when she’d been here so Gabrielle had a lot of ground to cover. And only four hours to do so.

What was worse, Gabrielle had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for. Even though she had been the one to bring up the bacchae, Gabrielle didn’t really give the idea much credence. When Xena killed Bacchus more than thirty years ago, all the bacchae had reverted to normal women. So unless Bacchus was still alive, there shouldn’t be any bacchae left in Greece.

The wolves were more likely to be connected to the worship of Zeus Lykaios. Maybe there was a shrine or temple dedicated to Zeus on the island. Or an artefact. Or even King Lycaon himself. The possibilities were endless. But Gabrielle had to trust that she would know it when she saw it.

It was a pity though, that the many curses Zeus had visited on mankind didn’t die with him. If they had, maybe the six innocent victims would still be alive today. And the lives of six families wouldn’t have been destroyed. But there was no point dwelling on what could have been. Only the present mattered. And time was trickling away…

***

The island was one big forested hill. There were no well-trodden paths for Gabrielle to follow, only the wolf trail which wended its way inwards and upwards, often taking the path of least resistance. This was the trail Xena had followed on her prior visit to the island. It led straight to the wolf den.

If Gabrielle had a choice, she would rather not alert the wolves to her presence but the hill was steep and impassable in many areas. And Gabrielle had to backtrack on more than one occasion when the path she was on ended abruptly. So when she found herself back where she started, having made no headway into the island whatsoever, Gabrielle girded herself and set off on the wolf trail.

She followed it through the forest, up the hill and past the first cave. As she approached the second cave, she slowed, much as Xena had. But instead of entering the cave, Gabrielle was looking for a way around it. Unfortunately, the only way onwards was right past the cave entrance. Sais in hand, Gabrielle crept slowly past the cave, her senses on high alert.

If the wolves were going to attack her, it would have to be now. But no wolves emerged from the depths of the cave to assault her and she reached the other side without incident. Gabrielle stayed crouched over for a moment longer, her body primed for action. When there was still no sign of the wolves, Gabrielle let out the breath she’d been holding and slid her sais back into her boots before heading upwards.

A few heartbeats later, a shadowy figure appeared at the entrance of the wolf den. It stayed motionless for a long second, its nose twitching. Soon, more shadows emerged from the darkness and a tawny-coloured she-wolf stepped out into the open. It turned its head in the direction that Gabrielle had gone, its ears angled forward, its nose scenting the air. Once it had locked onto the scent of the intruder, it set off at an easy lope. The pack followed silently behind her, their tongues lolling out of their mouths as they joined in the hunt.

Past the wolf den, the trail grew fainter and the going got harder. In some places, tree branches had fallen over the trail, forcing Gabrielle to stop and either step over them, or pull them over to the side. Along the way, she picked up one of the sturdier tree branches for use as a walking stick. This came in handy when she needed to pull herself up the steeper inclines. Gabrielle even used it to vault over a tree trunk that was in her way.

Eventually, she emerged onto a grassy knoll. Right in the middle of the knoll was the gnarled skeleton of a huge tree. Most of its upper branches were splintered and there were deep gouges in its trunk. A deep vertical crack extended from the top of the tree trunk to just above Gabrielle’s head. The bark looked as if it had been scorched.

It was odd how the forest had ended behind her, but here was this solitary tree at the highest point of the hill, looking as if it had been struck by lightning at some point in the distant past. Gabrielle didn’t know enough about trees to be able to say anything more than that it had once been an oak.

Everyone in Greece knew that the oak was sacred to Zeus. But this oak had been struck by a lightning bolt, which could only be wielded by Zeus, and was his weapon of choice. This was the ultimate symbol of Zeus’ wrath. This had to be the source of the curse.

***

Now that Gabrielle had found the source, she needed to nullify it. But that was easier said than done. Gabrielle didn’t know the first thing about spells or rituals or stuff like that. Her one and only experience with shamanism was when she’d crossed over into the spiritual plane to do battle with Alti for the the soul of Xena’s then unborn child. And she’d only been able to do that by following Xena and Yakut’s instructions.

In comparison, Xena had been trained in the Way of the Shaman by both Alti and Cyane. While she was considered more of a dabbler than an actual shamaness, Xena’s familiarity with the spirit world and her knowledge of shamanism would no doubt come in handy here. But there was no way she would be able to get Xena up here in her current state.

Gabrielle had been so lost in thought that she didn’t realise she had company until she was surrounded. There were six wolves in total. Five had the typical colouring of the common grey wolf, predominantly grey with some brown, black and white mixed in. The sixth wolf however was predominantly yellowish-brown. Gabrielle recognised the wolf. She’d seen it in Xena’s memories.

The tawny-coloured wolf stood directly on the path Gabrielle had taken to get there. Its gaze was fixed firmly on Gabrielle. It was alert but not hostile, unlike the other wolves who were hunkered down, their bellies close to the ground, ready to pounce at any moment. Gabrielle tightened her grip on the tree branch. If the wolves attacked, she could use it like a staff, which with its longer reach, would make for a better weapon than her sais.

Low warning growls filled the air as the wolves reacted to the tension in her body. One by one, they pressed themselves lower into the ground and Gabrielle froze. She forced herself to relax her grip on the branch then held her hands out to her sides in a non-threatening manner.

When she’d first started travelling with Xena, Gabrielle had pestered the warrior to teach her how to use a sword. Xena had refused and instead given Gabrielle four rules of survival.

Xena: “The rules of survival. Number one: if you can run, run. Number two: if you can’t run, surrender—then run. Number three: If you’re outnumbered, let them fight each other while you run. Number four…”

Gabrielle: “Wait… more running?”

Xena: “No. Four is where you talk your way out of it. And I know you can do that. It’s wisdom before weapons, Gabrielle.”

XWP Season 1 Episode 3: Dreamworker

Xena never abided by those rules. And neither did Gabrielle, at least not since she’d taken up her sais to fight alongside Xena. But the principles were sound and there was no need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Here, she was outnumbered. And it was unlikely they would fight each other while she ran. So she might as well talk her way out. Gabrielle could certainly do it. Though she didn’t know how receptive the wolves would be.

Gabrielle held the gaze of the tawny-coloured wolf as she spoke. “Look, I can explain. A village not far from here has been cursed. Six people died. My friend and I, we traced the curse here, to this lake. We don’t want any more innocent people to die. So we came here to break the curse.”

The tawny-coloured wolf seemed to be listening intently. It cocked its head to the side but didn’t otherwise move.

“You’ve met my friend. She’s the tall woman in the brown leather armour with the long raven black hair. She’s my best friend.” Gabrielle’s voice turned sombre as she thought of her soulmate back at their camp. “The curse turns people into half man half wolf creatures. One of them bit my friend. I think… I think she’s dying.” She closed her eyes, bowed her head and allowed her hands to fall back by her side.

***

The tawny-coloured wolf let out a short sharp bark. When Gabrielle opened her eyes, the other wolves had disappeared back into the forest, leaving the two of them alone on the knoll. Gabrielle stayed where she was, waiting for the wolf to make the first move. It was in her way and she didn’t feel that she could leave.

The moment that thought crossed her mind, the wolf moved to the side. It lowered its head slightly, as if inviting Gabrielle to go on ahead.

“You want me to go?” Now that the way back was open once more, Gabrielle was torn between staying and leaving. She had probably two hours before nightfall. If she couldn’t break the curse before then, would Xena make it through the night? Or would Gabrielle be forced to confront a life without her soulmate yet again?

A quiet bark drew her out of her dark thoughts. Once it had her attention, it pointed its snout towards the path then looked back at her. It repeated the action for good measure then backed away slightly.

“Alright. I’m going.” Gabrielle cautiously walked past the wolf and down the path. When she glanced back, she noticed the wolf following her.

Every time Gabrielle stopped, the wolf stopped. Every time she moved, the wolf moved with her. In this way, they made their way down the hill, past the wolf den and all the way to the narrow isthmus. There, Gabrielle hesitated again. She looked past the wolf, up towards where she’d found the dead oak tree.

The wolf had, for all intents and purposes, just chased her off the island. Would she be able to return in the morning? Or would the wolves guard against any and all future intrusions? Gabrielle had been so close. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Part one of the plan might be a wash, at least for now. But part two was very much still in play. Once night fell, which would be in another two hours or so, she would be able to carry out the second part of the plan. Gabrielle was confident she could get Clio to appear. Then, she would just need to work her powers of persuasion on the spirit.

At its core, the curse was powered by Clio’s intense hatred and desire for revenge. If Gabrielle could convince her spirit to let go of her personal vendetta, there was a chance the curse would break—much like a fire dying out once it ran out of fuel. To remove the curse completely, they would still need to deal with the source. But that could wait until tomorrow, when she would hopefully return with Xena by her side.

Now that she had a clear plan of action, Gabrielle felt energised. The uncertainty and doubts, that had assailed her mere moments ago, were gone. There was a pep in her step as she turned around and headed back to the lake shore. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that it was almost time for dinner. Gabrielle picked up her pace, keen to return to their camp. She had dinner to make, and a soulmate to look after. She couldn’t afford to dawdle.

***

“How’s she doing?” Gabrielle asked as Argo came up to greet her. The camp appeared to be undisturbed and she could see Xena still wrapped up in her bed furs where Gabrielle had left her.

The palomino mare nickered softly in reply. Gabrielle patted Argo on the shoulder. “Thanks… for watching over her.”

As Gabrielle walked past, a faint rustle—too soft to be picked up by the average human ear—caught Argo’s attention. The mare swung her head around, her ears swivelling in the direction of the sound. And then she saw it—a wolf. It was padding towards the camp, casual as you like, as if it was just taking a stroll through the woods.

Instead of sounding the alarm immediately, Argo stood her ground and waited for the wolf to make its intentions known. An experienced warhorse like Argo had no reason to fear a wolf pack, much less a lone wolf. She outweighed the wolf more than eight times over and her formidable hooves could easily stave its skull in with one well-placed blow.

The she-wolf slowed and stopped. It knew first-hand how dangerous hoofed animals could be. Even the deer which populated these forests, could be dangerous to a wolf when threatened. And a deer was closer to the wolf’s weight class than the powerful mare standing before it. It could also smell another horse nearby.

The she-wolf would have to get past both horses to get to the humans she sought. The female she’d followed, and the female from the day before. The she-wolf was confident it could beat either horse when it came to speed. The horses wouldn’t be able to catch up before it got to the humans. But the wolf wasn’t here to kill. It was here to satisfy its own curiosity. For that to happen, it was important that things did not start out on the wrong foot. It sat down and cocked its head at a twenty-five degree angle. Wolves and horses didn’t even speak the same language. How was it supposed to convince the horse to let it past?

The mare whinnied a challenge. Surprised, the she-wolf cocked its head to the other side. It sounded like a typical horse whinny but the she-wolf had heard it in wolfspeak. Before it could respond to the mare, they were interrupted by the voice of the golden-haired female.

“Argo, what’s wrong?” Moments later, Gabrielle stepped into view. She stared at the she-wolf in surprise. “You followed me?”

The she-wolf let out a low whine. Argo’s ears perked up. Gabrielle just looked confused. “I got off your island like you asked. Why are you following me?”

The she-wolf barked. Argo huffed. Gabrielle planted both of her hands on her hips, clearly frazzled. “Look, I don’t have time for this. As I told you, my friend is sick. She’s not improving. I… Why am I even explaining myself to a wolf?”

Argo bumped Gabrielle’s shoulder gently with her head and the bard managed a smile. “I’m fine, Argo. It’s just… I hate feeling so helpless.”

The she-wolf let out a series of yips punctuated by a bark. Argo answered with a long nicker and the she-wolf whined in response.

Gabrielle’s glance ping-ponged between the two animals. She had a moment to wonder if the stress had gotten to her and she was hallucinating the whole exchange between the two animals. Argo’s warm musky sweet breath on her face told her she wasn’t.

“Why am I not surprised you speak wolf?” Gabrielle asked the palomino mare drily.

Argo flared her nostrils in response, then nudged Gabrielle back in the direction of the camp and Xena.

“Where are we going? Argo?”

Argo kept nudging Gabrielle ahead while the she-wolf followed behind, bemused by the whole encounter.

***

Jason looked up as Gabrielle, Argo and the she-wolf passed by. He seemed unfazed by the presence of a deadly predator in such close proximity. Once they were out of sight, he lowered his head and continued grazing as if nothing had happened.

The unlikely trio came to a stop when Gabrielle refused to go any further. It was apparent that they were headed straight for Xena. Argo had saved Gabrielle’s life on more than one occasion though that had technically been the mother of the current Argo. Still, she had trusted the mare with Xena’s life and would have no qualms doing the same with her own.

But Gabrielle wasn’t so sure about letting an apex predator get so close to her defenceless soulmate. She turned to the she-wolf. “I don’t understand. What do you want with Xena?”

The she-wolf glanced over at Argo for help but the mare just tossed her head, either unable or unwilling to do so. The she-wolf then sat down and mimed biting one of its forelegs before carefully licking it.

Gabrielle stared at the wolf in disbelief. “You want to help her?”

The she-wolf continued licking its foreleg before deliberately putting it down.

“You think you can help her?”

This time the she-wolf gave an affirmative yip.

“Call me crazy—but I actually believe you.” Gabrielle walked around to the other side of the bedroll and knelt beside her unconscious soulmate.

The she-wolf approached the bedroll on the opposite side from Gabrielle, its nose twitching as it sniffed around the fur-wrapped form of the dark-haired female. There was the all too familiar smell of death but not decay. It tried to follow the scent but the fur was in the way. It pawed at the bed furs and looked up at the golden-haired female.

Gabrielle unwrapped the bed furs from her soulmate and watched as the she-wolf zeroed in on the bandage around Xena’s left forearm. It had once again turned black in Gabrielle’s absence.

The she-wolf pressed its nose against the bandage then hopped back with a sneeze. It pawed at its nose disagreeably and sneezed a couple more times. When the sneezing fit finally passed, the she-wolf pawed at Xena’s forearm, being careful not to make any contact with the bandage.

By now, Gabrielle understood what was expected of her. She unwound the bandage but went one step further. She cleaned the black substance from Xena’s wound and smeared honey over it. Due to the viscous nature of the honey, it created a seal over the wound. The seal wouldn’t hold for long since the wound was still actively weeping. But it should hold long enough for whatever the she-wolf was planning. “There. That should hold for a while.”

Once Gabrielle was done, the she-wolf placed a paw on Xena’s left wrist to hold it down and started licking at the wound with long firm strokes.

Gabrielle watched the process with rapt attention. Wolves, unlike humans, did not have access to external medical care. So it was often up to the wolves to treat their own injuries. They did this by licking the wound. Xena had once told Gabrielle that the licking helped clean the wound and their saliva promoted healing.

It was unlikely that this primitive form of healing would work where more advanced forms had failed. But Gabrielle wasn’t about to say no when the wolf had offered. She had already exhausted every avenue available to her in their current situation. Granted, she hadn’t tried healing Xena through their soul-link—yet. But that was more of a double-edged sword that, if Gabrielle wasn’t careful, could kill them just as easily as heal them.

The she-wolf shifted the position of its paw and tilted its head slightly to get its tongue deeper into the wound. As it licked up the last of the honey, it was hit by the taste of blood and death and something equally deadly and wondrous all at the same time. It was still struggling to identify the taste when it started convulsing violently.

***

The she-wolf dropped onto the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. The fur on its body rippled, resembling a wheat field being buffeted by a strong wind. Skin stretched, muscles lengthened and bones reformed. It was disconcerting to watch. Gabrielle winced in sympathy but could not look away. Something was happening. The wolf—was transforming.

There was a loud clap of what might have been thunder, startling Gabrielle. She blinked. When she opened her eyes, there was a young woman lying on her side next to Xena. The woman looked to be no older than eighteen, probably younger. She wore a dark blue chiton and matching sandals, both adorned with elaborate embroidery. Her long lustrous blonde hair obscured most of her face and neck.

Gabrielle’s first order of business was to check Xena’s wound. To her surprise, it was already starting to scab over. Her soulmate’s breathing had also evened out. She placed the back of her hand to Xena’s forehead then to her own forehead. The warrior was no longer burning up. Gabrielle felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. Xena was going to be alright and she could finally breathe again.

Her second order of business was to check on the young woman. Gabrielle walked over to the other side of the bedroll, crouched down near the woman’s head and brushed the hair away from the woman’s face. She was beautiful, in an elvish kind of way. Gabrielle felt for a pulse at the side of her neck. It was strong and steady. She shook the woman gently. “Hey.”

There was no response initially. However, the woman soon opened her eyes. She blinked then tried to stand up, much the way a wolf would, on all fours. It didn’t take her long to realise that she was no longer a wolf. The woman pushed herself into a sitting position and stared in disbelief at her hands, her body, her feet. She lifted her hands to her face, tracing the features that she thought lost to her forever. And she began to cry.

The crying soon turned to laughter—the kind that embodied both relief and joy. “I’m human again! Thank Hecate! I’m free! I’m finally free!” The woman broke into a fresh round of laughter that ended in a brief coughing fit. It was then that she remembered where she was. She looked over to where she’d seen Gabrielle last but there was no one there.

Gabrielle cleared her throat. “I’m behind you.”

The woman turned and flung herself at Gabrielle. They ended up on the ground, the woman’s arms wrapped tightly around the bard. Once Gabrielle got over her initial shock, she returned the woman’s hug and patted her back in a comforting gesture.

The woman abruptly pulled away. “I’m so sorry. I seem to have forgotten my manners.” She sat back on her heels, smoothed her chiton down and extended her hand to Gabrielle. “I’m Despina Thaleia Kyriakou.”

Gabrielle pushed herself up into a similar kneeling position and took the woman’s hand. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

“You can call me Despina.”

“I’m Gabrielle.”

“And I’m Xena.”

Gabrielle’s head whipped around at her soulmate’s voice. She held her breath, hardly daring to hope. Xena was already on her feet, walking towards them, looking none the worse for wear. Gabrielle’s heart felt like it was about to burst with joy. As her soulmate reached them, she launched herself off the ground and into Xena’s arms. “You’re awake!”

Xena caught the bard easily and pulled her in close. She buried her nose in Gabrielle’s hair, breathing in the warm comforting smell of her soulmate. Aware that they were being watched, Xena extricated herself from Gabrielle and turned to the mystery woman. There was something about those amber eyes that struck her as familiar. “Have we met?”

“We have.” Despina said, standing up and brushing herself off. “You probably remember me in a different form.”

“The tawny she-wolf. You’re a shape-shifter?” Xena asked.

“It’s a long story.” Despina replied.

Gabrielle’s stomach grumbled in protest. “Sorry.”

Xena frowned at her soulmate. “Gabrielle, when was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch?”

“Alright.” Xena decided it was time to take charge. “Let me catch us some dinner and we can talk later. How does rabbit sound?”

“Rabbit sounds good.” Gabrielle replied.

Despina nodded.

“Rabbit it is.” Xena said.

***

The three women sat around the campfire, the only thing left of their dinner being the bones of the two rabbits foolish enough to cross Xena’s path. Gabrielle leaned back on her hands, her stomach so uncomfortably full that she was having a hard time taking in a full breath. It had been a long trying day. Her eyes began to droop shut and Xena gave her a gentle shake.

“Gabrielle, why don’t you get some rest? I can catch you up later.”

Gabrielle shook herself awake. “It’s okay, Xena. I want to hear this. Despina?”

Despina set her empty plate on the ground and folded her hands in her lap. “Where should I begin?”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Gabrielle suggested.

“Are you sure about that?” Despina asked. “It is a long story.”

“Go on.” Xena said.

Seeing how the two women were in agreement, Despina acquiesced. “I’m the daughter of Ioannis Panos Kyriakou, who served under King Lycaon. When I turned fifteen, I attended a banquet with my father. There, I was introduced to the king. The next day, Father told me the king wanted me to be his wife. I was devastated. When I was younger, Father had promised that he would not stand in the way of my happiness and I would be able to wed whoever I desired.”

“I reminded Father of his promise but he said he couldn’t go against the wishes of the king. Desperate, I approached one of the king’s wives for help. She agreed. A year came and went without the king once asking for me. I was sure he had forgotten. But he hadn’t. Three months after my sixteenth birthday, Father came home beside himself. He told me I was to present myself to the king’s bedchambers that night. I was horrified.”

“That day, the king was hosting a massive banquet but I wasn’t invited. I was to prepare myself and be ready for him when he returned to his bedchambers. He never did. I waited anxiously in his bedchambers until Father came for me. He told me the king and his sons had insulted Zeus and been punished for it.”

“His sons were dead, struck down by Zeus’ lightning bolts where they sat. Only the youngest, Nyctimus, had been spared. The king, it was said, had fled. But no one knew if he was alive or dead. When he did not return, his sole surviving son was named the new king of Arcadia.”

“Life soon returned to normal. The old king was presumed to be dead and I no longer had to look over my shoulder. I was free or so I thought. I would learn very quickly that the old king had not forgotten about me.”

“A few months later, I was in my garden, admiring the blossoms in the light of the full moon. My handmaidens accompanied me. One of them suddenly screamed. There was a wolf in my garden. They tried to usher me back into the safety of my home but we didn’t get far. The wolf ripped out their throats and came for me. I screamed for all I was worth. But help was too far away. It bit me on my leg and I fainted.”

“When I came to, I was in a cave with the wolf that bit me. It told me that it was the king. Zeus had turned him into a wolf. He didn’t want to live out the rest of his life alone. So he had come for me. That was when I realised I was a wolf too.”

“How did he turn you into a wolf?” Gabrielle asked.

“The king claimed it was Zeus’ curse. It gave him the ability to turn men into wolves.”

It was Xena’s turn to interrupt. “By biting them?”

Despina nodded. “So he claimed. I never saw him turn anyone else into a wolf.”

“It was just the two of us for the longest time. One day, while out hunting, I saw Hecate. She was standing at the crossroads. I’d worshipped Hecate since I was a little girl. It turned out she was waiting for me. She couldn’t undo Zeus’ curse, so she granted me immortality until I could be free of it. She also gave me a spell that would kill the king. That night, she came to me and told me I would never be free as long as I stayed in Arcadia. The next day, we found ourselves here.”

***

Despina told them how she’d befriended the wolves in the region and killed King Lycaon. With the help of her new pack, she buried his body at the top of the hill. Overnight, an oak tree sprouted from his unmarked grave. The oak tree survived only a few days before it was hit by a massive lightning bolt. Fearful of incurring Zeus’ wrath, Despina had stayed away from the oak tree since.

She happened to be present the night Clio took her own life. “She came up to the lake, invoking the gods of the underworld to punish the man who’d wronged her. As payment, she offered her life in exchange for his.”

“Death magic.” Xena muttered darkly.

“Yes.” Despina agreed. “Death magic. Her ritual must have summoned the king’s spirit because I felt his curse awaken. I didn’t know what it meant until Gabrielle here told me about a curse that could turn people into half wolf half man creatures. And that her friend had been bitten.”

Despina turned to Xena. “If it was the king’s curse, you should have turned into one of those creatures. But you didn’t. Gabrielle thought you were dying.”

Xena tried to catch her soulmate’s eye but Gabrielle kept her gaze averted. So she placed her hand on Gabrielle’s knee and gestured for Despina to continue.

“My curiosity had already been piqued when our paths first crossed. Xena, you came to that den looking for us. Yet, you did not draw your sword. And then we have Gabrielle—who thought it would be a good idea to explain herself to a pack of wolves.”

Despina chortled at the memory. Gabrielle gave a wry smile.

Xena jumped to her soulmate’s defence. No one was allowed to laugh at Gabrielle’s expense, except her, of course. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“It did, at that. I had to come see for myself. You know the rest.” Despina said.

Without realising she was doing it, Gabrielle placed her hand over Xena’s. She said to Despina,“There’s still so much I don’t understand. How did you know you could heal Xena? And how did you do it?”

“I have to admit I didn’t know. I just thought I would try. As to how… well, that’s kind of a mystery too. I am guessing that since the king’s curse is spread through saliva, the curse in my saliva must have neutralised the curse in her body and vice versa. Once we were both free of the curse, Xena’s wound healed and I reverted to my human form.”

“That’s certainly possible.” Gabrielle said. “Xena, what do you think?”

“Curses don’t work that way.” Xena pointed out. “Despina, you’re a devout of Hecate. Have you ever heard of two curses cancelling each other out?”

Despina gave it some thought. While she did worship Hecate, she hadn’t been a true practitioner of the arts and her knowledge of spells and curses was rudimentary at best. “I’ve never heard of it, no. But if that’s not what happened, how do you explain it, Xena?”

Xena had heard about the she-wolf’s transformation from Gabrielle. It sounded very much like what had happened with the wolf man who had bitten her. Xena relayed this information to Despina. “What was your last memory before you became human?”

“Pain… No, that’s not what you’re asking, is it? I remembered tasting death, and blood, and something I could not identify.”

Blood—Xena remembered blood flowing down her arm and into the wolf man’s mouth. That had happened mere moments before the creature started convulsing. More than a month ago, Xena had been exposed to enough wolfsbane to kill a grown centaur. Technically, she had been dead. But she hadn’t stayed that way.

The incident had rendered her permanently immune to wolfsbane. More importantly, the poison still remained in her blood. Wolfsbane had historically been used to kill wolves and was as fatal to them as they were to humans. Could the wolfsbane in her blood have interfered with the curse of King Lycaon?

“I’ve wolfsbane in my blood.” Xena said.

Gabrielle’s hand tightened on Xena’s but she said nothing.

“Wolfsbane? I should be dead.” Despina paused, as she realised the full import of Xena’s confession. “And so should you.”

Xena shrugged, not wanting to get into the specifics. Gabrielle clearly didn’t like rehashing what happened. “I’m immune.”

Gabrielle looked thoughtful. “Xena, I think you may be on to something. We now know that the curse is spread through saliva. Despina turned into a wolf after being bitten by King Lycaon. You should have turned into a wolf too. But you didn’t. Instead, your wound wouldn’t heal and it became worse after we came here.”

“Because the wolfsbane in my blood was counteracting the curse.” Xena finished Gabrielle’s thought for her.

“Then I came along and removed it.” Despina added.

“If that’s true, Xena’s blood should nullify the curse in the lake.” Gabrielle reasoned.

“I’d feel better if we tried it on something else first.” Xena said.

“The oak tree?” Gabrielle asked.

“The oak tree.” Xena confirmed.

***

It was dark in the forest, the weak moonlight struggling to pierce through the dense canopy. Torch in hand, Xena slowly made her way up the steep uneven terrain. She had Gabrielle’s memories to guide her but the forest looked vastly different at night.

Owls hooted from the tree branches and bats fluttered about, snapping up insects on the wing. Mice and shrew scampered underfoot, squeaking and chirping noisily as they tried to avoid being stepped on. The wolf pack was off hunting in the forests around the lake, where the larger prey were.

Gabrielle was back at the camp with Despina. Her soulmate had wanted to come along but Xena had convinced her to get some rest instead. If everything went without a hitch here, they would be out and about again when the witching hour came around. That was when the boundary between the dead and the living was at its weakest—the best time for them to put the second part of their plan into action.

They had already spent three days in the area and Xena did not intent on staying any longer if they didn’t have to. Granted, they weren’t in any particular hurry. The plan was to meet up with Otrera and the Amazons at the foot of the Caucasus Mountains on the second full moon. That was a full five weeks away. Now that Gabrielle had her own horse, they would make it with plenty of time to spare. Still, it would be good to stay ahead of the Amazons, who were likely no more than a day behind them by now.

Xena was beginning to think she’d accidentally taken a wrong turn in the dark when she spotted a faint glow up ahead. She stuck her torch butt first into the ground at her feet. It would mark the way back down the hill.

The faint glow intensified as Xena walked towards it. Soon, the forest opened up and Xena could see the multitude of stars dotting the night sky above. Moonlight washed over the knoll on which she stood, illuminating the dark twisted remains of the dead oak tree Xena had come for.

Rituals typically required a lot of preparation. As an amateur shamaness, Xena was well aware of the intense preparations required. But here she was, wholly unprepared and flying by the seat of her pants. Then again, Xena wasn’t here to cross the spiritual plane or fight a spiritual battle. She was here for one purpose and one purpose only. And that was to cleanse the land of King Lycaon’s curse once and for all. To do that, she needed just one thing—her blood.

Xena pulled a dagger out from her boot, placed the sharp edge near the base of her left thumb and dragged the blade of the dagger across her palm. Blood welled up from the smooth edges of the cut. Xena opened and closed her left hand a few times to get the blood flowing. Once her whole hand was covered in blood, she approached the oak tree, reached up and placed her bloody hand where the trunk had been split into two by lightning. She watched impassively as her blood flowed down the crevasses of the bark and into the crack.

When her blood reached the exposed heartwood of the tree, the curse of King Lycaon awakened, all hungry and full of teeth and desperate to latch onto anything that might allow it to see the light of day again. It drank down the offering of human blood eagerly, reliving fond memories of the good old days when it had feasted on the sweetness of human flesh on the daily; the heady taste of the fear and terror it had invoked in its victims prior to tearing them limb from limb. But those memories were no match for the wolfsbane in Xena’s blood. It ate away at the curse, slowly but surely, weakening it bit by bit until it finally collapsed in on itself.

There was an audible pop. Not loud enough to startle Xena but enough for her to realise that something was happening. Then right before her eyes, the oak tree transformed. Gone were the gouges and scars left by the lightning strike. Gone were the charred and burnt patches. Leaves sprouted from the once dead branches, going from tiny furled buds to mature spear-shaped leaves in the blink of an eye. Flowers appeared, turning into small green acorns that would one day grow into new oak trees.

Inexplicably, one of these acorns continued to grow, until it fell to the ground at Xena’s feet, fully mature.

As Xena bent to pick it up, a light breeze came out of nowhere, and a soft translucent voice whispered, “Thank you.”

Xena looked up but there was no one there.

***

“Gabrielle, wake up. It’s time.” Xena said, shaking her soulmate gently. She’d gone to bed maybe half an hour before midnight and had gotten only three hours of sleep. Gabrielle had closer to five hours. But that was merely a drop in the ocean considering the amount of sleep her pregnant soulmate needed these days.

Not surprisingly, Gabrielle did not stir. Xena felt a twinge of guilt for having to wake her soulmate up. It was her fault Gabrielle had run herself ragged earlier that day. Xena was tempted to handle the second part of the plan by herself so her soulmate could continue sleeping. But Gabrielle wouldn’t let her hear the end of it in the morning. And Xena didn’t trust her own powers of persuasion. She knew how to use her womanly wiles against men. But women? They usually required a more subtle touch.

“Gabrielle.” Xena shook her soulmate again though she was less gentle about it this time around.

“Wha—what?” Gabrielle bolted upright, her head swivelling around for any signs of attack. When she realised the camp wasn’t under attack, she groaned and rubbed her face vigorously, trying to wake herself up. “Xena, is it time already? I feel like I just fell asleep.”

“Gabrielle, if you want to go back to sleep, I can do this by myself.”

“No, no. I’m up. I’m up. I just—need a moment.” Gabrielle placed a hand on the side of her neck and turned her head from side to side.

“Here, let me help you.” Xena knelt down and ran her hands over the muscles in Gabrielle’s neck and shoulders. They were all bunched up together, drawn tight with tension. She identified the trigger points then dug her thumb into them, applying firm pressure for thirty counts before letting go. She repeated this action until the muscles were no longer taut. Then she started gently kneading them.

As the tension drained from her body, Gabrielle felt herself nodding off. She shook herself awake mentally and said, “Xena, stop. I’m going to fall asleep if you continue.”

Strong muscular arms encircled her from behind and Gabrielle let herself lean back and enjoy the warmth and safety of her soulmate’s embrace. They stayed that way for a long moment, neither feeling the need for speech—Gabrielle accepting Xena’s unspoken apology and offering her own silent absolution in response. It was Xena who ended the moment with a soft kiss on the nape of Gabrielle’s neck, sending shivers down the bard’s spine.

“Is that a promise?” Gabrielle asked.

“It is… if you want it to be.” Xena answered.

“I’ll take a rain check. Let’s get this over and done with.” Gabrielle said, standing up carefully to avoid jostling the still-sleeping Despina. “How did it go at the oak tree?”

“As expected.” Xena replied, getting to her feet. Together, they walked out of the camp and headed westwards to where Clio had taken her life six months earlier.

It was exactly three in the morning. The witching hour had begun.

***

Aided by the bright moonlight, they arrived at their destination within ten minutes. Water lapped gently at the lake shore but it was otherwise silent. At this time of the night, the nocturnal wildlife should be at its most active. But there was none of that here. It was as if even the animals had sensed the danger and stayed away.

“Ready?” Xena asked.

Gabrielle nodded.

Xena stepped up to the water’s edge, dagger already in hand. She sliced her left palm open, extended it out over the lake and squeezed her hand into a fist. Blood flowed from the wound, around her fingers and down her palm before falling into the water in soft plops.

For what seemed to be the longest time, nothing happened. Xena continued to bleed into the lake, though the blood drops were slowing. She had been standing there so long that her wound was beginning to heal. Xena was thinking of reopening the wound when she heard the sound of leaves rustling nearby. A breeze was stirring.

The breeze rapidly picked up pace and Gabrielle stepped closer to her soulmate. She grabbed hold of Xena’s elbow, not wanting to take the chance that the gusting wind might cause the warrior to lose her balance and fall into the lake.

“NOOOOOO!” The wind coalesced into the pale figure of a woman who they presumed to be Clio. They had a description of her but it was hard to tell when the main identifiers were the colour of her hair and eyes and all they could see was the greyish figure of a woman.

Since there was no one else around, the spirit turned its focus on them. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??!!” It swooped towards them but ran into an invisible wall, stopping short a few feet out.

Seeing this, Xena remembered the acorn she’d picked up earlier. “Gabrielle, stay close to me.”

Unable to get at the two women, the spirit changed gears. It pivoted back towards the lake and screamed, “WE HAD A DEAL! MY LIFE FOR HIS! I KEPT MY SIDE OF THE BARGAIN! YOU HAVEN’T KEPT YOURS!”

Now that they had confirmation this was the spirit of Clio, Gabrielle took over. “Clio, six people are dead.”

If the spirit was surprised that Gabrielle knew her name, it did not let on. “What do I care? He still lives. He and his whore.”

“Six innocent people lost their lives because of your desire for revenge. How many more have suffered and are still suffering because of their deaths. What have they done to deserve this?”

The spirit laughed mirthlessly. “They stood by and did nothing. All of them. They’re as responsible for my pain and suffering as he was. They deserved it.”

“Eleni was only twenty. She’d just wed her childhood sweetheart and found out she was pregnant. She had her entire life before her. Now she’s dead and so is her child. Her husband was beyond devastated.”

“I was pregnant too.” Clio interjected. “I had my entire life ahead of me. We were to be married. But when the position of headman came open, he discarded me like I was nothing. Nothing!”

Xena interrupted her. “You’re a virgin. You were never pregnant.”

“Is that what he told you? He lied! He promised my parents on their deathbed that he’d take care of me. But what did he do? He got me with child and refused to take responsibility for his actions. I won’t be satisfied until he pays with his life!”

Xena pushed back. “Vasileios didn’t tell me anything. I checked with Michail. You never went to see him. When they brought your body back to the village, he confirmed you were never pregnant and never had sex with a man.”

“I… No… That’s not what happened.” The spirit stuttered, suddenly unsure of itself.

Gabrielle decided to go in for the kill. “Dessie. She’d just turned two. Two. And now she’s dead because of your vendetta against Vasileios. Her parents—how do you think they feel? She was their first child, their only child. Your hatred destroyed not only your life, but the life of so many others. Do you want me to name them all?”

“Dessie? Sweet Dessie? No… no… This was not… No… I just… He has to pay for what he’s done.”

“Clio, hatred blinded you to what’s most important in life. Yes, Vasileios reneged on his promise. Yes, he married another woman. But, as you said, you were young, you had your entire life ahead of you. You could have found love with someone else—someone better than Vasileios. You could have had a family to replace the one you lost. And you could have been happy. But you chose to end your own life, just so you could get revenge on a man who doesn’t care.”

“It’s too late. I can’t go back. Vengeance is all I have left.”

“It’s never too late, Clio. Your hatred and your need for vengeance keeps you here. It doesn’t have to. If you let it go, you’ll be free to move on to the afterlife. I’m sure your parents are waiting for you.”

“My parents? I… I’d forgotten what they look like. Do you think they’ll be proud of me? After what I’ve done?”

“They’re your parents, Clio. You’re their daughter. You made a mistake. You don’t have to keep living it. The only way to end the cycle of hatred is through love and forgiveness.”

Clio shook her head, angry again. “You want me to forgive him?”

Gabrielle corrected her. “I want you to forgive yourself.”

The spirit sighed. “That won’t be enough. I invoked death magic.”

“I think I can help with that.” Xena fished the acorn out from her cleavage and tossed it at the spirit. “Clio, catch.”

Caught wholly by surprise, the spirit did not manage to react before the acorn smacked it right in the chest. “Oh… This is…” The spirit broke into a smile just as acorn and spirit popped out of sight.

“Xena, what was that?”

“A gift from the oak tree. Clio sealed the death pact by giving up her life. That was the oak tree returning it. It won’t bring her back to life but it releases her from the death pact.”

Gabrielle looked up at the night sky. “I hope she finally finds peace.”

“I think she will.”

***

Despite sleeping less than five hours the whole night, Xena was up before dawn, as was her wont. After her usual morning workout and meditation routine, she saddled Argo and made the short trip to Myrithos.

When she returned, more than two hours later, she was surprised to find both Despina and Gabrielle awake.

“You’re up early.” Xena said to Gabrielle, half teasing and half concerned.

“I was trying to convince Despina to come with us.” Gabrielle said. “She has nothing except the clothes on her back.”

Gabrielle was worried for the young woman. Even though Despina was technically older than Gabrielle had been when she’d left home, the circumstances of their upbringing was very different. Despina had been a noblewoman, coddled and cosseted her whole life. Her only experiences outside of that sheltered environment had come when she was a wolf. Even then, she hadn’t been alone. First, she’d had King Lycaon and later the wolf pack.

Greece, like most of the known world, was not a safe place for a woman to be travelling alone, much less one as young and as inexperienced in the ways of the world as Despina. It would be safer for the young woman to travel with them until they could get her settled in somewhere.

“What are your plans from here?” Xena asked Despina.

“I haven’t decided.” Despina admitted. “I thought about going home. But it’s been so long… How many years has it been? Time passes so differently when you’re a wolf. Has it been a decade? Two? I am sure it has been much longer. If I return to Arcadia, I will just be another stranger. Alone and adrift. Here, I have family. I want to stay close to them—for as long as they will have me. There are a few villages in the area where the wolf pack roams. If they are willing to welcome a stranger like me, I am ready to give it a try.”

“We could travel with you for a while.” Xena offered. The next village wasn’t that far out of their way.

“Thank you but I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.” Despina demurred.

“It’s no trouble.” Gabrielle wanted to say more but Xena stopped her.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to travel with us?” Xena asked.

Gabrielle stole a glance at her soulmate. The possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. What reason could Despina have?

“I’m afraid you’ve got me there, Xena. I intend to return to the den. Just for a few days. This is all a little new to me. And to the wolves too. We’ll need to establish a new normal.” Despina gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t even know if we’ll be able to understand each other. Now that I am no longer a wolf, I don’t have access to a lot of the ways we used to communicate.”

Xena didn’t share Despina’s concern. Humans and domesticated wolves had managed to live side by side for tens of thousands of years, Xena was sure Despina and the wolves would find a way to do the same. “We’ll not insist then.”

“At least take this.” Gabrielle said, removing a small money pouch from her waistband and offering it to Despina. “It’s not a lot but it should tide you through until you get your feet under you.”

Sensing Despina’s reluctance, Xena chimed in. “Despina, if you hadn’t showed up when you did, we might not be having this conversation right now. Consider it a token of our thanks.”

Gabrielle extended the money pouch to Despina again. This time, she accepted it.

“Thank you. If it weren’t for you two coming along when you did, I would still be a wolf.” Despina tucked the money pouch into her chiton and bade the soulmates farewell.

***

After Despina left, Xena and Gabrielle packed up their belongings, saddled the horses and headed south-east, back to the main thoroughfare. Reins in hand, they led their respective horses as they walked side by side through the forest.

Gabrielle turned to her taller companion. “Do you think Vasileios will step down as headman?”

Xena gave a non-committal shrug. She’d given a full report to Vasileios. Other than him, no one else in Myrithos knew the full story. But most of them would have figured out by now that Vasileios was partly to blame for everything that had happened. Whether Vasileios remained as headman or was ousted from his position, was a matter for the villagers alone.

Vasileios wasn’t a terrible headman. Given the resources available to him, he’d done his best to stop the murders. He’d set a curfew. Though, on hindsight, that might have contributed to the murders more than they had prevented them. But he wasn’t to know that the killers were already amongst them or that the curfew would allow the curse to claim more victims.

In the end, he’d recognise his own failures and shortcomings and accepted their help in solving the murders. Few men in power possessed the self-awareness to recognise their own flaws, much less admit to it. For that alone, he deserved a modicum of respect. But the real question was: could the villagers see past his perceived transgressions against Clio?

He had treated Clio unfairly and reneged on his promise. But that was all he was guilty of. The rest were merely lies made up by Clio to get back at him. If Vasileios wanted to win the villagers over, he could make that information public and have Michail vouch for him.

Gabrielle fidgeted with her necklace. Her attempt at small talk was failing miserably. She had initially planned on using the discussion about Vasileios to talk about something else. But judging from Xena’s non-answer and subsequent silence, that was a clear non-starter. So she tried a different tack. “Xena, do you remember anything about yesterday?”

Xena turned to Gabrielle, an eyebrow raised in query. “You mean when I was sick?” When Gabrielle nodded, Xena asked, “What about it?”

“Do you remember seeing Solon and Lyceus?”

“Yup.”

There was no hesitation in Xena’s answer, which made Gabrielle question if her soulmate had been as delusional as she’d initially thought. “You miss them, don’t you?”

“Yeah… But you already know that, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle did know that. But what Gabrielle really wanted to know, was whether Xena would have gone with Lyceus and Solon if she hadn’t intervened. Yet, there was a part of her that was afraid the answer would be yes; that she would never be enough for Xena, and that the warrior would always be looking to throw her own life away.

Gabrielle decided she couldn’t deal with the truth right now. So she chickened out. “I was thinking… we should start planning our wedding.”

The topic had changed so abruptly that Xena was suffering from whiplash. She spluttered, “What?”

That wasn’t the response Gabrielle had been expecting. She glanced over at her soulmate, hurt by the perceived rejection. “You don’t think we should?”

“Gabrielle, that’s not what I’m saying. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all. One minute we’re talking about Solon and Lyceus. The next minute you’re talking about planning our wedding. I thought you wanted to wait until after our child is born.”

“I changed my mind.” Gabrielle said. “We don’t have to wait for our child to be born to have the wedding. It’s our wedding. It’s about us and our love for each other; what we’ve been through and how we’ve come through it. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. I’ll be happy with a simple ceremony—just the two of us.”

“Gabrielle, if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Lila will be so mad at me though. And what will Eve think about the two of us secretly getting married.”

“Eve will understand. I’m not so sure about Lila.”

Gabrielle let out a loud sigh. Talking about Lila reminded Gabrielle of her younger sister’s attempts to marry her off in Potidaea. All because she’d told Lila she was pregnant. “I’ll deal with Lila when the time comes.”

“What type of ceremony do you want? Potidaean? Amazon?”

“No—no. I thought we might come up with something together. Something that is unique to the two of us…” Gabrielle stopped, realising she was putting the cart before the horse. “Xena, is there a specific type of ceremony you want?”

“Nah, I’m good as long as I get to kiss the bride.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Gabrielle deadpanned.

The pair exchanged a knowing smile and burst into laughter. No wedding ceremony of theirs would ever be complete without a kiss or three and a whole lot more besides. And they might even throw in a full day and night holed up in a room with a large bed and lots of food and drinks within easy reach. But that was a conversation for another time.

For the day had only just begun. And who knew what adventures awaited them. Or what dangers lay ahead.

-THE END-