He let out a breath of relief. “No, Mistress. You won’t.”
The queen smiled at him. “But you might.” She said. “Wanna be my heir?”
Watching the duke’s face, Xena decided she could get used to a reaction other than fear. It was actually sort of pleasant.
Not that she’d admit that to Gabrielle, of course.
Not for a while, anyway.
**
Gabrielle let her eyes wander over the barracks. There was a… a wildness to it that was totally different than the Bregos mens’ quarters had been. On the walls were animal hides, and furs covered the cots instead of woolen blankets.
It smelled of muskiness, and steel, and leather. There was armor hung everywhere, on wooden pegs, well cared for though also well used.
On the back wall, a black banner was spread, with a golden hawk in the center. One side was tattered and burnt, but the care it was kept with was very evident.
Brendan appeared, and moved towards her. He was dressed in a pair of leather breeches and a woven green shirt, and he wiped his hands off on a cloth as he approached her. “G’day to you, m’lady.”
“Just Gabrielle.” Gabrielle corrected him, with a smile. “Her Majesty said for me to come get you.”
Rather than appearing afraid, Brendan looked pleased with the summons. “Let me just put a tunic on then, m...”
Gabrielle shook her finger at him.
Brendan smiled. “All right, Gabrielle it is.” He went to his space, in the front of the barracks, a place of obvious honor. “Jeras, let’s get out t’the yard when I gets back, and work the kinks out.” He addressed the tall blond man. “Time we took this stronghold back for ours.”
“Aye, sir.” Jeras agreed briskly. “Would you ask her Majesty to...? “
“Come watch?” Brendan peered over his shoulder.
“Join us.” Jeras completed his statement. “We miss her in the drills.”
Gabrielle listened with interest, glad beyond reason to hear words directed at the queen that were not full of envy, or dislike. “I think she misses you too.” She spoke up quietly.
The men all turned and looked at her.
“There aren’t many friends in that tower.”
Brendan straightened up and walked over to her, cocking his head to one side. “I’d say about one, matter’s of fact.” He told her. “But I don’t know as her Majesty would come to spend some time in the mud with us.”
Gabrielle just grinned at him.
“Is it true about Alaran?” Jeras asked, suddenly.
It wiped the grin off her face. Gabrielle remembered the horror, and felt again the chill across the back of her neck. She was aware of the men gathering around her curiously, and she took a breath before she lifted her eyes to meet Jeras’. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Ah.” Brendan grunted. “That’s a stinger.”
Jeras snorted. “He was a two faced bastard and you know it, Bren. He finally showed his price this time.”
“Aye.” Brendan straightened his tunic, and gestured for Gabrielle to precede him. “T’wasn’t him I meant.” He followed Gabrielle to the door, and opened it, then walked with her outside into the cool, dry air. “I know her majesty must be disappointed in us.”
Gabrielle glanced over at the empty barracks. “She said to say she doesn’t hold you responsible for that.”
“No.” Brendan sighed. “But I do.” He shook his head. “Stupid bastards. Don’t know a leader when one fell on them. Too tied up in their damned egos to think straight.”
“Where do you think they went?” Gabrielle asked.
“Out there.” Brendan shaded his eyes, and peered off towards the mountains. “Where I wish we were, sometimes.” He said. “No matter how warm the cots, or good the food.”
“So…” Gabrielle gently probed him. “Why didn’t you go with them? If that’s what you really want?”
The old soldier gazed at her. “If she’d go, I’d follow.” He said. “So’s the lot of us.”
Gabrielle walked by his side in silence for a little while, as they approached the stone walls, and the heavy wooden door. “Why?” She asked suddenly. “Everyone else here hates her.”
Brendan gently pulled her to a halt just outside the door. He leaned against the wall, and let his weathered hands fall against his thighs. “Why?” He considered. “She bled for us.” He regarded a scar on the back of his knuckles. “She almost died for us.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise Gabrielle at all.
“Some backwater hole… bunch of us stopped by there, not lookin for any trouble.” Brendan went on. “Just got us a meal, and some ale… paid for it, we did. But them folks recognized us from a bounty poster and figured to get them a haul so they snuck out and sold us to the guard.”
“Mm.” Gabrielle murmured.
“Thought we was dead men. Bounty didn’t care.” Brendan looked up into the sunlight. “Had us tied up and branded, half way to dying when Xena found us. She’d gone off to do some reccon, and come back to find us missing, and she got on her horse and she rode.
He took a deep breath. “As long as I live, I will remember her coming in there, just her against a legion of them.” He said. “She fought and she fought and she fought like a wild thing until they turned tail and just ran… and she then she cut us down.”
“Wow.”
“Wasn’t a part of her wasn’t cut or broke.” Brendan slowly shook his head. “But she done got us. Went back and burned that damn backwater to the ground for it, too.”
Gabrielle remembered being carried up a long flight of stone steps in the rain.
“Didn’t find out till long time later, the damn place was her home town.”
Oh. Gabrielle felt out of breath all of a sudden, as a bit of knowledge was trying valiantly to surface into her conscious mind, something she’d heard, something she….
“Anyway, that’s just since you asked, little one. Let’s not keep her Majesty waiting.” Brendan opened the door for her. “And, Gabrielle?”
Distracted, she looked up at him. “Yes?”
Brendan put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m damn glad she finally found someone who makes her laugh. Been too long for her.”
The bit of knowledge floated off, out of her reach. “Thanks.” Gabrielle smiled at him, and then ducked inside the door, with Brendan at her back. “Sometimes things happen and you don’t understand why, but it ends up okay anyway.” She paused. “I love her.”
“And so do I.” Brendan put his hand on her back, and they walked towards the hall.
**
“Mistress, I am dumbfounded.” Lastay finally murmured.
“Half right.” Xena leaned against the arm of her chair and crossed her ankles.
“Mistress?”
“Never mind.” The queen chuckled softly. “Lastay, I don’t want to found a dynasty. I’m not looking to be called the queen mother, and I’ve got no intention of marrying some wealthy starched ass just to give this land the warm and fuzzies. You understand me?”
The duke’s entire attitude had shifted. He was no longer nervous, now his body language spoke of wary encouragement and definite interest. “I think I do my liege.”
The outer door opened, and Gabrielle slipped inside. She paused when she saw them, and looked at Xena in question.
“C’mon in, hot stuff.” Xena waved her forward. “Got Brendan?”
Gabrielle opened the door and stepped aside to allow the old soldier to enter. They walked together to the dais. Gabrielle was glad to see the duke apparently unharmed, and she took her spot at Xena’s side, kneeling next to the chair as the queen resumed her discussion.
Hot stuff? The errant comment suddenly surfaced in her recall.
“So, if I’m not going to lay a litter of puppies for the lot of you, it seems to me that I need to settle who’s going to be the unlucky bastard who gets this job when I get tired of it.” Xena stated.
Lastay laced his fingers together and leaned his chin against them, crouched down as he was on the low stool. “Me?”
Xena nodded.
Brendan chuckled, as he took up a position on the first step, one that had formerly been claimed by Alaran.
Lastay collected himself. “But… your majesty, we… I thought you had told the council… everyone has always imagined that you would…”
Xena turned her head and looked at Gabrielle. “What do you think, should I turn this place over to someone who can’t even finish a single sentence?”
“Mm.” Gabrielle was a little amazed herself, at Xena’s attitude. “I thought queens all did that dynasty thing.”
“Not this queen.” Xena shook her head. “I told you, no spawning.”
“But, Mistress, you had considered taking a consort!” Lastay objected. “Not that I am not honored beyond speech by your offer, but you naming an heir... had never been considered!”
“Yeah, well.” Xena continued examining Gabrielle’s face. “That was before I found someone I wanted to spend my time with.”
There was a period of awkward silence. Xena ignored it, and amused herself with tracing the line of Gabrielle’s blush up the arch of her neck to her cheek with an idle fingertip. “So there isn’t going to be any more talk about a consort, Lastay. You want the job of being my heir, or not?”
The duke inhaled audibly. “Your majesty, it would be my greatest honor.”
“It would be your biggest pain in the ass, too.” Xena said. “Everyone’s going to want a piece of you.”
“Yes.” He murmured. “I realize that.”
“I’ll increase your land decrees, and give you a royal stipend.” The queen said, finally turning her head to look at him. “You want something, you ask. If I find out you’re dealing to unseat me, I’ll gut you. Understood?”
Lastay nodded. “Majesty, if you will let me, I will use their greed to build a true base of support for your reign. I do not wish that chair.” His eyes dropped to the bloodstain on the floor, then darted back to her face. “But more than that, I don’t want others to have it.”
Xena laughed. “Lastay, you know you could die for this. I had a set of jackasses take a pot shot at me just the other day.”
His head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise. “Majesty?”
Was he lying? Pretending he didn’t know? Xena wondered. “C’mon, you must have heard about it. Bregos was counting on that to win our little fight.”
Lastay rose and paced across the floor, disturbed. “No… they seemed eager to take our bets but…” He made a small sound somewhere between a snort and a spit. “Bastards.”
Xena propped her head up on her fist and regarded him with some amusement.
“But you were not injured, my liege, so their plan came to nothing.” Lastay concluded.
Tell him? The queen wrestled with an unfamiliar strategy. “Don’t sell my reputation for being the hardest ass in the kingdom short, my little dukelet.” She said. “I had a hole in my back you could have put your fist through.”
“No!” Lastay looked at Gabrielle, for some reason. “It’s not true!”
Gabrielle nodded solemnly.
“Bregos?” The duke seemed astonished. “Insanity! They would never have let him take the crown so! He was…” Lastay paused, awkwardly.
“Yes?” Xena’s voice had dropped to a low, velvety rumble. She pinned Lastay with her eyes, all sense of humor vanished completely. “He was what, Lastay?”
Brendan shifted, sensing the change. He took an unconscious step closer to the queen’s seat.
The duke froze in place.
Gabrielle put her hand on the arm of Xena’s chair and leaned against it. “If there’s something you know, you should say what it is.” She spoke up quietly, and for the first time. Her voice sounded high, and odd in the large room, and it brought Xena’s head right around as the queen stared at her.
“You have to start trusting somewhere.” The slave continued, meeting the duke’s eyes. “And pick where you want to put your loyalty. You can’t have it both ways.”
Lastay remained silent, and then he sighed. “Aye, lass.” He returned to the low stool, and settled on it, sucking on his lower lip as he crossed his boots in front of him and rested his elbows on his thighs, a completely un-duke like posture that was almost juvenile in it’s casualness.
Xena leaned over and kissed Gabrielle on the lips. Then she returned her attention to the duke and waited, twiddling her thumbs in front of her. “Well?”
“Bregos was their paid stooge.” Lastay said. “A number of the big landowners got together and offered him the earth if he could bring you to bed, and said they’d back him.” He picked at one of the laces on his leather boots. “Twasn’t to put him into your place.” His head lifted, and he looked at Xena. “No matter how they hate, tis fear of you that keeps enemies outside our far pastures, my liege, and none of them is so stupid as to ignore that.”
“Even with Brego’s battle successes?” Xena asked, secretly quite pleased.
“Even so.” The duke said. “So to hear he put his hand against you, Mistress, shocks me.”
And Xena didn’t think he really had, so that meshed. Bregos would have gladly taken advantage of her injury, but she didn’t really think he had the guts or the ambition to go for the big prize. Though it would be convenient for her to believe otherwise – that would wrap up her little mystery neatly – she knew there were pieces to this puzzle that she still didn’t have in her hands.
“Why didn’t you just tell me about this, Lastay? Instead of hinting around it like a spinster knitting in the corner?” Xena asked. “What was in it for you?”
Lastay studied the ground for a long moment. “They were holding my wife, Mistress.” He admitted.
Now it was Xena’s turn to be shocked. “What?” She got up and walked over to him, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hauling him to his feet. “You idiot!!! Why in Hades didn’t you say something?” She bellowed at the top of her voice, shaking the glasses on the sideboard.
Gabrielle scrambled up and trotted over, with Brendan at her heels. She put a hand on Xena’s back and peered at the duke. “Do they still have her? That’s awful!”
“Gggaaabbbrriellle.” Xena rumbled. “This is my interrogation.” She turned back to Lastay. “Do they?” She shook him hard.
“N…Mistress, please!”
Xena stopped shaking him, substituting a glare.
“They… It’s her cousin, my liege. They tell me she’s safe.” Lastay said. “I have no reason to believe otherwise.”
Xena drummed her fingers on his forehead. Then she stopped the motion, and cocked her head. “You want her back?” She asked.
“Mistress!” The duke protested. “She is my dearest wife!”
The queen shrugged. “Just asking.” She released him. “Brendan?”
“Majesty?” The soldier stepped briskly over to her. “Want me t’scare up where they got the little lady?”
“No. Lastay’s gonna tell me that. Just get together a handful of men who don’t mind skulking.” Xena told him. “Have them get horses ready to go out after dark.”
Brendan ducked his head. “I’ll lead em myself, Mistress.” He turned and walked quickly out, closing the door behind him.
“Betcha won’t.” Xena muttered under her breath. “All right, Lastay. Spill it.”
“Mistress… they said they wouldn’t hurt her.” The duke held both hands out. “I am in discussion with them to retrieve her... there is no need for you to risk any of the men.”
“Wrong.” Xena paced across the room, twitching her robe around her as she moved. “They know you didn’t agree with them, they know you’re in here talking to me, and I haven’t thrown your body out that door yet. They’ve got leverage on you and that….!” Xena turned and pointed at him. “I can’t allow.”
Lastay sighed, an odd expression on his face. “I understand, Mistress.”
The queen paced. “Her cousin’s Edvest, isn’t it? He’s got a townhouse here and that ugly rock pile out to the west.”
“My men have watched the townhouse, Mistress. They don’t believe she is there.” Lastay murmured.
“Of course not. That’d be easy.” Xena snorted. “All right. Listen. I’m gonna throw you out of here, and you let it be known that you’re on my shit list, understand?”
The duke nodded. “Not to give them reason to move her, or otherwise, Mistress?”
“Exactly.” The queen gripped him by the back of his tunic and started for the door. “Try to act appropriately scared, and make sure you tell everyone what a bitch I am,”
She grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “Next time, I’ll send you out in little pieces you half assed brainless gnat!” With a shove, she sent Lastay sprawling out into the outer chamber. The assembled nobles scrambled out of the way, and she noticed that Alaran’s body had been removed. “Anyone else?” She snarled.
Frozen faces looked back at her.
“Anyone who’s got any more gripes better think about taking Brego’s way out.” The queen told them harshly. “Because I’m in a killing mood.” She turned and slammed the door in their faces, then pivoted on her heel and stalked back to her seat. She turned, fluffed her skirt out and sat down, then pointed at Gabrielle and crooked her finger. “C’mere.”
Gabrielle obeyed.
“Sit.” Xena pointed at her lap.
“Are you sure?” The slave queried.
“No, I’m Xena. Now sit.”
Gabrielle sat down, and was gathered into Xena’s arms for a delightfully surprising hug. “This is getting so complicated.” She said.
“No it isn’t.” Xena kissed her. “It’s just getting interesting.” She nipped Gabrielle’s nose. “Very interesting.” It was, she realized, as though she were waking up from a long nap.
Yeah.
**
It was sunset.
Xena stood on the upper stone walkway outside her tower and gazed out over the landscape, enjoying the cool wind that ruffled her hair into supreme disorder. She could smell the change on the breeze, the rich scent of wood smoke and the burning of peat in fireplaces as the chill settled over the land.
Somewhere off in the slight distance, she could smell meat roasting.
It angered her, in a remote way, because her leadership had given them the wealth that let the surplus animals be killed for meat, instead of kept to decrepitude for the last possible chance at milk, or offspring. She had done that.
She was a good steward of the land, and in her heart, she knew she’d done well by the people who lived off it. One only had to look at the birth rolls to know that.
The door opened behind her, and she cocked her ears, playing a little game with herself she used to keep her senses sharp.
Boots rasped against the stone. Xena focused in on the sound, noting its lightness. She caught a gently indrawn breath, and heard the wood of the door brush against a narrow shoulder as it closed. It hadn’t opened wide enough to allow a soldier through, the hinges had barely creaked once, much less the three times that would have required. Ergo, either she had a young boy at her back or something much more pleasant.
The footsteps, almost soundless, approached. The leather barely scraped against the stone, and there was a faint rustle of woolen cloth.
“Ah, Gabrielle.” Xena leaned on the parapet, gazing confidently out at the reddening light. “Come to watch a romantic sunset with your favorite tyrant?”
The slave came up next to her, and put her hands on the stone. “How did you know it was me?” She asked.
“I have many skills.” Xena replied. “One of them is knowing who is sneaking up from behind.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” Gabrielle leaned against the stone, soaking up the sunlight. “That’s really pretty, isn’t it?” She marveled at the scenery. “Look at how golden that light is… and those trees! It’s like they’re glowing.”
Xena tilted her head to one side and examined instead the gilded profile next to her. She envied the wonder in those misty green eyes, something she herself had lost a long time before. Even though Gabrielle’s life so far hadn’t been a picnic, she’d held onto that.
But for how long?
Xena returned her attention to the horizon. “I’m going to take you up to a private place of mine, tonight.” She told her slave. “I want you to stay there, and not budge until I get back.”
Gabrielle turned to her, with a puzzled expression. “Where are you going?”
On a fool’s errand? The queen had to wonder, herself. “I’m going with the men I’m sending after Lastay’s chit.” She told Gabrielle. “I want to make sure it gets done right… no screw ups.”
“Oh.” Gabrielle folded her arms on the top of the wall and rested her chin on her wrists. “Can’t I go with you?”
“No.” The queen snapped, giving her a severe look. “It’s dangerous and you’ll probably get us all killed.”
Gabrielle accepted this, with a rueful nod, but remained silent, her eyes flicking across the sunset lit trees. What Xena said was probably true, and since she knew absolutely nothing about skulking around in the dark trying to spring a kidnapped woman, it made sense for her to stay here, in a safe place.
Gabrielle sighed. Yes, it did make sense, but she knew sitting somewhere wondering what was going on, and hoping nothing bad was happening was just going to be awful. What if something did happen? Her eyes slid to the queen’s profile. What if something happened to Xena?
What would she do? She knew returning to the slave quarters now would be a fate worse than death for her – she had no friends there, and none in the nobility save the woman she stood next to. Without Xena’s protection, she figured her life would be measured in days.
Hours?
“Why in the Hades would you want to come with me?” Xena suddenly asked.
Gabrielle turned her back on the sun and folded her arms as she looked up at the queen. “Because I don’t want to be here if you don’t come back.”
Xena’s dark eyebrows hiked sharply up. ‘What? What makes you think I won’t?” The queen laughed. “It’s not a war, Gabrielle. We’re just going to do a little raid, that’s all.”
The slave shrugged one shoulder. “Stuff happens.” She admitted softly. “What if there’s three arrows again?”
Xena turned also, and draped an arm over Gabrielle’s shoulders. “C’mon. Help me put on that armor.” She started to walk towards the door. “That should keep even three or four of those damn things outside my skin.” She was touched, though, by the sincerity of the concern she could hear in Gabrielle’s voice; no matter it was probably her own skin she was worried about. “It would take a lot more than some scrungy stronghold guards to put me on the pyre, my friend.”
Gabrielle reached forward, and pulled the door open. “I know, I just...”
It happened so quickly, she didn’t even see it. There was just a blast of air that smelt like unwashed humanity, and she hit the stone floor as Xena shoved her down out of the way.
Things were moving around her, but she curled into a ball out of pure instinct, and pressed herself against the wall, trying to stay out of danger.
Xena caught the glint of steel and let out a wild yell, freezing the man in place just long enough for her to get her hands free of Gabrielle’s body and clamp her fingers down on the wrist of the hand holding the knife.
She threw her body backwards, pulling the leather armored figure after her and turned, using the momentum to her favor as she slammed him into the stone wall on the other side of the door. She felt the arm bones under her fingers crack, and the soft clank as the knife hit the ground.
Then she got her other hand around his throat and touched two pressure points.
The man started to choke, and fell to his knees, giving her a chance to examine him. A slave, she realized, from the kitchens by his dress. She stepped back and watched dispassionately as he fought to breathe, his fingers scrabbling at his neck helplessly.
Gabrielle scrambled up from the ground and clutched her arm. “Xena!”
“Hm? The queen wiped her hands off on her robe.
“What are you doing?”
Xena looked at the man, then at her slave. “Watching him die, why?”
“But... he didn’t do anything!” Gabrielle protested, her eyes widening in horror. She recognized the man as one of the stock handlers from the yard, a mild, gentle sort who’d sat across from her during one of her few meals in the kitchens and given her a smile.
“He came up here, with a knife in his hands.” Xena told her. “You die for that here, Gabrielle. Everyone knows it.”
“But... maybe he just made a mistake!” Gabrielle watched the man’s face turning blue. “Oh, gods.” She dropped to her knees next to him and tried to ease his struggles. “Gods... don’t do this.”
“Gabrielle!”
“No!” The slave’s hands went helplessly to the man’s face. “He didn’t do anything to you!”
Xena’s hands twitched, as she got caught in a sense of confusion alien to her. “Damn right! I got him first!”
“But he didn’t attack!”
“He would have!” Xena felt a strange sense of angry absurdity over it all. “Get away from him!”
“Gods.” Gabrielle almost sobbed. “Oh, gods, please no...” She felt the man stiffen under her hands.
Xena hesitated, and then looked to the knife on the floor, about to point to it as proof of the rightness of what she was doing.
Her eyes fastened on it. Then she cursed, a base oath that nearly made the stone crack as she stooped next to the man, tearing Gabrielle’s hands away as she fought to find the right…spot….
His eyes rolled wildly, and his body arched, then suddenly slumped and relaxed, with a shudder.
The rasping of his breath sounded loud on the parapet.
Xena stood and walked to the wall, resting her hands against it and staring out over the trees, more than shaken.
Gabrielle watched the purple in the man’s face recede, his chest heaving as life returned to him, though he was still out cold. A huge sense of relief passed over her, and she stood, walking to Xena’s side and putting her arms around her. “Thank you.” She hugged the queen.
Xena felt her arms close around Gabrielle in numb instinct. She looked over the slave’s shoulder to the slumped figure on the floor, rattled to her very core at the mistake she’d almost made. “Wasn’t for you.” She said, in a husky voice, her eyes tracing the outline of the hoof knife lying mutely on the stone. Next to it was a chunk of something that might have been rock, but she knew it wasn’t.
Horse hoof.
There was a reason for someone to be up here, with those things, and it had been so long since she’d been sought out for her animal skills she’d forgotten completely about that.
“I don’t care.” Gabrielle told her. “I’m just glad you did it.” She sniffled, and looked up at Xena. “There has to be a better way than violence.”
Xena pulled her close and rested her cheek against Gabrielle’s hair. The slave’s mistaken stab at mercy had saved Xena from a stupid mistake, that was all. There was no reason to let her think that Xena had some sort of wimpy change of heart.
And yet, she remained silent.
Gabrielle hugged her all the harder, and exhaled, warming the skin near Xena’s breastbone.
Xena returned the squeeze, as her body relaxed from its battle tension. She felt the last rays of the sun hit her on the back, warming her shoulder blades and throwing their joined shadow across the walkway to spill over the now feebly moving stockman.
He reached for his shattered wrist with his other hand, and rolled onto his side, panting hard and gazing up at her with wide, starkly terrified eyes.
Lucky boy. Xena exhaled, and put her thoughts in order. Definitely, she had to make sure the upper chamber was well guarded, and Gabrielle well hidden when she left. Despite her stated request, the queen knew there was no way she’d be taking her along with her on the raid.
Absolutely no chance of that.
**
Part 12
The moon slowly rose, peeking over the walls of the stronghold and spilling quiet silver light across shadowy figures and restlessly stamping animals. Overhead, pennants flapped in the night breeze, the rustle of fabric sounding out over the low clink of an ironsmith working and the rumble of cattle in their pens.
In the courtyard, men stood waiting, their hands tucked into bridles as they made a last check of weapons draped over their armored bodies. Their leathers were dark, and the horses tack blackened with soot from the fire.
The door to the stable opened, and a horse moved into the open space, it’s shoulders a good foot above the rest’s and it’s coat a silky, dark coal that reflected none of the torchlight that seemed to sink into it’s inky depths.
"All right, let's get moving." Xena settled her knees, feeling a sense of pleasure at finding herself on horseback again. It had been a while, she suspected she'd be paying for that with a little soreness at the end of the night, but she was looking forward to the exercise nonetheless. She was a natural rider, and her mastery showed in the subtle body shifts that moved her big stallion around in a circle with effortless ease. “I want to get out there, get the wench, and get back before anyone knows what’s going on.”
“Mistress.” Brendan saluted, and gave a signal. The men mounted, forming up around the queen as she sat easily in their midst.
“Keep together. I want to be back here well before sunrise.” Xena said. “I’ve got a little surprise for everyone at morning court, and I don’t want to be late.” A pressure on her shoulder made her glance around. "Are you ready?" She growled at the wide green eyes peeking back at her.
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