The Changing Of The Guard

DEDICATION: For Findle, world's most impatient alpha reader.
6/01

-1-

The dolphin was still following the ship as it approached the Sumerian coast.

The reason the dolphin was following the ship was because Joxer was still feeding it when he could. For a time he'd regretted the initial impulse that had led him to toss part of what little food he had to the dolphin, but lately he had little appetite anyway and was well rid of what maggoty crusts he was given. The dolphin ate them anyway. It must be awful to be a dolphin if it made you that hungry all the time.

He'd been angry at the Sumerians that first time because they'd been trying to net the dolphin and even though he knew Sumerians were barbarians he hadn't realized they were that bad, cannibals practically. They spoke like it was only a fish, but all civilized people knew dolphins were the reincarnations of drowned sailors. Cannibals! He'd been furious and had almost charged the captain, but it would have been suicide and he needed to get to Sumeria, had to get to Sumeria. So he'd kept his mouth shut, his gut churning at this additional evidence of the cruelty of the Sumerians (and it was that cruelty that was his reason for being there in the first place) but the dolphin had easily evaded their nets. The Sumerians were pissed and when they saw Joxer sneaking it a bit of food over the side they took out on him pretty hard, even for Sumerians. But shortly after that they'd started assigning him to tasks on deck more often, and giving him more mostly inedible salt fish and biscuit, so that he could continue feeding the dolphin, and they could continue trying to catch it. And the dolphin ate the food, foul as it was, and danced away on its tail laughing aloud at the Sumerians' attempts to capture it. Perhaps it had been a Sumerian itself, when it was a human. Certainly it seemed to be able to anticipate their moves, and Joxer thought it looked as if it was enjoying itself at their expense. At least somebody was.

The increasingly well-settled coastline was close enough now that he thought he could almost reach out and touch it, although distances were hard to judge at sea. It might be half a mile, it might be seven leagues, but it was close enough to see. That meant the capital, the coastal city with its unpronounceable Sumerian name was within an hour, maybe less, and that meant the goal was in sight--and farther away than ever. He didn't know how he was going to get to the palace. He didn't even know how he was going to get off the ship. At least not alive.

Something struck him in the ribs and he wound up sprawled on the deck, wheezing. One of the crew had caught him daydreaming and kicked him, real hard but at least not overboard. They'd been tossing the weakest overboard for the past couple of days, those with no resale value, and although you couldn't see them everyone knew there were sharks following the ship as well as the dolphin. Joxer ignored the man's cursing and pushed himself to his knees, his head bowed submissively. He couldn't lose now. Not when he was within sight of his goal. Not when there was so much at risk.

The dolphin tailwalked alongside the boat, laughing at some dolphin joke; then it dove beneath the waves and vanished.

Joxer returned to scrubbing the deck, trying not to think. Not to think about the harbor, not to think about the pain in his side, not to think about the burning on his back or the dull ache in his gut. Xena always said not to dwell on things, and--Not to think about Xena. Not to think about Gabrielle, oh, gods, Gabrielle! He shut everything out except the feel of the rough planking under his knees. No thinking. Waiting. And soon--something.

The Sumerians were talking among themselves in Sumerian, pointing excitedly at other ships and landmarks along the harbor. Joxer kept his head down for as long as he could before looking up again. There were wharves visible now, long and dingy, the kind of place where a person could easily be lost from view within a few moments. For a second an unreasonable hope sprung up in him, but it just as quickly died. This ship was carrying far too many goods, and of too fine quality, to tie up at such a berth. They'd dock closer in to the center of town, where the security and the guards were thicker, and then they'd take all the cargo off, and shackle those who still lived, and march them away to... Wherever it would be, it would mean that he'd failed. And he couldn't afford to fail.

The wharves looked close. How close were they really? Did it matter?

Someone shouted, and the crew ran to the front of the boat. A huge trireme, carved and gilded about its bowsprit and stern, moved steadily past them. Its rowers were obviously fresher than the merchant ship's, and the elegance of its lines and its decoration meant it probably belonged to some noble. Joxer had heard the Sumerian nobles traveled in the highest of style, although his admittedly limited experience with them had seemed to indicate otherwise. The sailors gaped at the boat and talked excitedly among themselves. Perhaps envy, perhaps worship. Who could tell with Sumerians?

And on the other side, the long wharves continued to slip by.

Barely daring to breathe, Joxer stopped what he was doing. The short chain connecting the manacles about his wrists rattled once, and was still. He wondered if he had enough energy to do it. He wondered if he even had enough energy to stand.

He thought of the Sumerians, and of Gabrielle.

Joxer gathered his legs underneath him and sprang for the rail. It wasn't a graceful leap like he'd wanted, wasn't a quiet slipping over the side. He caught his foot and banged his knee, and he had to scramble up atop the rail and the chain clanked and clattered like all the bells in Delphi, and the sailors saw him and shouted and came running, and there was murder in their eyes. He didn't dive so much as plummeted, and he thought he felt a hand brush his ankle and he swallowed the panic and kicked it away, and it was gone.

And then he was plunging down, down, into cold unending darkness, and now he did panic and thrash and kick helplessly, no longer sure which way was up. He was choking, the breath knocked out of him by the fall and the water wanting to run in to replace it. He tumbled end over end, and then there was air, and then there wasn't, and then there was again.

He broke the surface, gasping, shaking the water out of his eyes, and he could see the ship. The rowers had already carried it well past him, but he started swimming away from it as best he could in any case. The Sumerians would snag him if they could, but they wouldn't turn around for somebody like him, next to worthless in the market.

They didn't seem angry. In fact, they seemed amused.

Joxer gasped, turned his back on them, and faced the wharves. He was trying to swim but it was hard with his arms bound and the chain weighing him down, and the water was so cold. Who knew it would be this cold, when Sumeria was so hot? The cold and the metal were pulling him down, and the currents batted him about here and there, turning him around so that with every breath it seemed he was facing something different, this wharf, that wharf, water, the ship again.

The Sumerians were openly laughing. They pointed behind him.

I'm not going to fall for that, Joxer thought, and a wave turned him around and he thought he saw--

No. Had to be imagining it. Another wave broke over his face and he choked and went under and almost didn't come up again. And when he did, he thought he saw it again.

No thinking. Swimming.

And the shark fin glided past and then back around again. It was taking its time. He'd seen the way they hunted the men thrown overboard. They always took their time, like a warrior aiming a spear.

He kept swimming. What else was there to do?

Failed. Failed utterly. Gabrielle, he thought. Gabrielle, I'm sorry. He wanted that to be his last thought, but his mind refused to cooperate and continued to roil in fear.

A wave brushed him up and around, and he saw the fin closer. It was coming for him now.

And the water exploded in front of him.

Joxer backpedaled, choking, the spray in his nose and eyes and throat, and the dolphin splashed back into the water from the apex of that spectacular leap and swamped him again. It skimmed quickly towards the shark, from the side, and rammed it. He saw the big fish's tail flop into the air as it dove, and felt some terrible sorrow. For some reason, with all that was at stake and all that he'd lost, it seemed as if getting that poor dolphin killed was the last straw.

The shark fin broke the surface again, its fin and part of its back arched upwards, then went under. The dolphin reappeared, chittering madly, then dove after the shark.

Joxer was too tired to swim any more. He kicked barely enough to keep himself afloat, in some strange sympathy with the Sumerians who were also watching for the shark to reappear. When something bumped against his side he was too tired even to react.

It bumped again, and pushed him up. It was the dolphin.

"Oh," Joxer said dully, "hello".

The dolphin thumped against him again, and more out of reflex than anything else he clung to its side. It chittered approvingly, and set out toward the wharf.

It took Joxer long moments to realize what was happening. He heard the Sumerians yelling in fury behind him but their voices were being drowned out by the sound of the waves. Of the shark there was no sign. A chance, he finally thought, the idea filtering slowly into his brain. I still have a chance.

The dolphin swam carefully around what few boats dotted the harbor at this side, dove suddenly--Joxer barely grabbed a breath in time--and resurfaced nearly underneath the end of one of the wharves, no tied-up ships or barges visible among the pilings. The water was filthy, smelled horrible, tasted worse, and seemed impossibly to be even colder than it had been out in the harbor. Joxer had never been so pleased by any body of water in his life.

He let go of the dolphin and scrabbled with numbed fingers against a piling. The dolphin gently nudged him further along the pier, to where the half-rotted remnants of a long-unused access ladder, overgrown with weed and algae, reached almost to the water. He grabbed it, and when the dolphin backed away his grip held.

Joxer shook the water out of his eyes and looked at the dolphin. "Thank you," he said solemnly. He wondered who it had been when it had been human, and if he'd known it then. If he ever drowned and became a dolphin, he decided, he'd make sure to go around saving people like this one did. It would only be fair. "I'm sorry I don't have any more of that fish."

The dolphin chittered, its long toothed snout looking almost like a smile and its demeanor conveying: No problem. It flipped its head up once in farewell, then it turned away and dove beneath the waves and was gone.

Joxer clung to the ladder for a long time. Then he pulled himself up one rung and again remained still, gathering strength for another effort. Another rung, another, and when he was fully out of the water he locked his arms and legs through the ladder as best he could, looping the chain around to hold himself in place. Then there was a long time for which he dozed on and off, exhaustion and pain dragging him down, nightmares and cold waking him again. During this time the sky went dark, and then light again. Then he went to sleep for a long time and when he awoke it was past noon, and he was more thirsty than he had ever been in his life, and he untangled himself from the ladder and climbed up onto the pier.

-----

Now what he needed to do was find the Queen.

That shouldn't be as hard as it might sound. He'd heard she held open court every day in the heat of the afternoon, allowing any and all petitioners to approach her with whatever they wished to ask. It wasn't a measure of her love for her people, nor theirs for her. It was to show how utterly fearless the Queen was, a woman running a country dominated by men and unafraid of any of them. People could and did try to kill her during open court. No one had yet succeeded. They said the Queen was invincible.

Joxer shuffled along in the crowds, heading for a gleaming white marble building visible above the tops of the local shacks. It was set up high overlooking the harbor, and he guessed it would either be the palace or pretty close to it. All he had to do was get there. Which was going to be difficult, because he was dressed in rags, filthy, chained, and the wrong color. The Sumerians had beautiful skin tones of deep rich browns and blacks, where Joxer's skin was so pale it stood out even among Celts or Gauls--and practically all of it was exposed to view right now to boot. He shuffled along, keeping his head down, not meeting anyone's eyes, and tried to be invisible. He was good at being invisible. It was a survival skill Xena might not approve of, but it had kept him alive and more or less whole ever since he'd been thrown out of his family and that a long, long time. People looked at him and saw nothing to threaten them, nothing to interest them, and therefore no longer saw him at all, and he was invisible. It'll work here too, he told himself. It will. Although he really would feel a lot safer with some clothes on.

The traffic grew thicker, people on foot thronging the streets, and now he could relax a bit because the crowd was so dense no one could really see him. It all seemed to be funneling towards the white building, and he allowed it to carry him along until he found himself at the back of a large open square, packed with people, and at the far end of the square was the white building. A series of grand steps led up to a dais high above the street, and on the terrace he could see a woman sitting on a gilded chair, two attendants standing on either side of her holding fan palms. The Queen.

Joxer looked at the crowd. He should be able to get to see her by...by the next full moon at this rate. That wouldn't do. Nor could he shoulder his way along, it would draw too much attention--and the crew from the ship could very well be here, and if they saw him--Okay. What could he do? He couldn't go through the crowd to the dais. He couldn't fly over their heads. He couldn't tunnel under their--

Or could he?

Joxer dropped to his hands and knees, which caused no commotion from the people around him--maybe the slave chains made him even more invisible than normal, good--and started to crawl through the crowd. He shouldered aside a leg here, was met with a return kick there, and the people fidgeted and grumbled as he went by, but no one looked down to see what was happening. He couldn't maneuver, and had to hope everyone was more or less facing the palace so that he could follow their feet. The crowd would occasionally break out in a cheer, or a roar, and once something happened to make them so approving that they clapped and stamped their feet, and he got pummeled for a few moments and had the wind knocked out of him, and had to stop. His knees hurt like hell and his back ached, and he was still not thinking--and there seemed to be light ahead through the forest of limbs. He pushed his way through, and found his head out in sunlight once more, blinking at the brightness. He was at the front of the crowd, and the steps were in front of him, and there was the Queen.

And there were guards on the steps, and they were staring. Joxer realized a little too late that he probably neither looked nor acted much like a regular petitioner. He pushed himself to his feet, startling the people around him, looked at the guards, started to speak--and thought Oh, the hell with it. From somewhere he gathered strength he didn't know he had, and ran straight up the steps.

Not very far, because there was a guard in his way almost instantly, and Joxer ducked around before the man could bring his spear into play, grabbed the spear and pushed backwards. The guard lost his balance and fell into a guard behind him, and Joxer returned to running. Not that many steps, well a lot of steps actually, too many steps if you asked him. The guards were pursuing and the Queen wasn't even bothering to notice. Playing it cool, as always--darn her. "Your Highness!" Joxer howled. "Your Highness, your Queenship--Nebula!--"

Something struck him hard between the shoulder blades and he went down, almost howling with rage at the universe that allowed him to get so close and then snatch him away again. He panted, felt the pressure on his back. Not dead. The guard had pinned him with the butt of the spear, and now there were other guards approaching, and--"Nebula!" he gasped, the volume gone with the air, "I--"

A second guard pushed his head aside with the blade of a spear this time, lifted his chin so that Joxer could watch. It was the guard who'd fallen down and he was very, very aggravated. He raised the spear slowly, Joxer pinned and helpless and watching every movement of the blade and wanting to scream with grief and rage. Everything was very quiet.

And a voice said "Hold."

The guard pulled the spearpoint back just a little, and Joxer heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He couldn't twist his head up enough to see much more than strong bare brown feet stop on the step just above him, and the voice said, "Hey, studmuffin. Long time no see."

By twisting his head to the side he could look up with one eye. Queen Nebula of Sumeria was looking down at him, the amused wolf grin on her face, and she was the only damn person he'd seen for months that didn't look mad. "Nebula," he gasped. "Need...help. Xena and Gabby, they..."

"Let him up," Nebula ordered, and the guards backed off. Joxer threw himself at her feet, which he had a vague idea was something one should do when begging a favor from a Queen. "Pirates," he wheezed. His mind wasn't working very well any more and he couldn't seem to put the words in order. "Kidnapped, Sumerian pirates, need help. Not for me, for them, the baby, I..."

"Whoa, back off, love. I just washed these feet."

"Please," Joxer said. He pushed himself up as best he could, which wasn't very, slipped on the marble steps and was down again. A couple more guards, women this time, who had been standing behind the throne walked down to join Nebula on the steps, and Joxer grew frantic. "Please, you have to..."

"Joxer, what the hell are you doing here?" one of the guards said.

Joxer blinked. It couldn't be.

The guard poked him with a booted foot. Joxer looked up and blinked again. The guard looked exactly the way she sounded, which was exactly like Xena.

"And what are you babbling about?"

The guard was dressed in fine Sumerian armor and silks, but she looked just like Xena. Joxer tried to say something but all he could do was kind of gape.

"Joxer!" the second guard said. He turned and looked at the second guard, and she was also dressed in finery, and she looked and sounded exactly like Gabrielle. "You're a mess," she said, which was exactly what Gabrielle would say.

"But," Joxer finally said, which wasn't much of an improvement on being silent, "but, but, the pirates..."

"The rumors of our demise are greatly exaggerated. As usual," Xena said. She grabbed him by one arm and hauled him to his feet, and when he stood he saw Eve peering at him from her bundle slung behind Xena's back.

"But you were, and they, and I thought--" He looked from one to the other. "And you were here all the time? And you were safe? And everything?"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Of course we were."

He looked at her. He looked at Xena. He looked at Eve, and he looked back at Gabrielle. They were here, they were alive, whole, safe. All the nightmares, all the worries, none of it was true, not this time, and everything was all right, and he loved them so much and was so relieved and oh, gods, Gabrielle. He looked at them, trying to express everything that was in his heart. "You bastards," he said and passed out.

-2-

"In the tub," Xena said.

"No." Joxer'd had enough water to last him the rest of his life. If he wasn't drinking it, he didn't want to be around it.

"Now."

Any lingering doubts that the woman was not Xena and/or a figment of his fevered imagination shriveled up and died at her tone. Grumbling to himself, he stripped off what remained of his clothes and climbed into the tub.

Hot! There wasn't any fire under the tub, the water must have been sourced from hot springs somewhere. And tubs of water at all in Sumeria? Part of the ship's cargo had been casks of mountain water from Greece that were apparently in big demand as a luxury item. Palaces were nice places to live, Joxer decided as he sank down as far as possible while still being able to breathe.

He was in Xena and Gab's apartments, large airy rooms around a private courtyard open to the weather, lounges strewn with brightly colored Sumerian weavings, smaller private alcoves curtained off, and in the garden a small spring trickling over rocks and this wonderful, wonderful tub. He wondered if it was possible to fall asleep in it without drowning, and if it might be worth the risk anyway.

Gabrielle came up with her arms full of painful-looking implements and that kind of look on her face that meant he was in trouble. "For pity's sake, look at that water. What have you been up to?"

He remembered he was mad. "Nothing," he said. "Just trying to save you guys' lives, is all."

"Do we look like we need saving? Scrub." Gabrielle shoved a bar of soap at him. "Scrub or I'll do it for you."

Normally that would have been a great opportunity but he let it slip past and started washing, although he doubted he could ever feel clean again. Gabrielle watched him like a hawk, and Xena said, "So exactly what are you doing here, besides wrecking our tub?"

"Where's Eve?"

"Sleeping. Don't change the subject."

He hadn't been changing the subject, he'd just been looking for the only person who would actually be glad to see him apparently. "I was worried about you guys."

"But how in the gods' names did you find us in Sumeria?" Xena sounded like she was asking a question she didn't expect answered.

"I went to Egypt."

"You weren't supposed to go to Egypt," Gabrielle said.

"I went there to Egypt, and I went to find you."

"I told you not to go to Egypt," Gabrielle said.

Joxer ducked around this. "And when I got there I heard how your ship had been captured by Sumerian pirates before it arrived, and..." He quickly ducked under the water until he was sure he could finish the sentence without his voice shaking and came up, gasping for breath. "And I figured Nebula was boss of the pirates, so she could find you guys and save you. Which I guess she already did," he added a little bitterly.

Xena swore in Chinish, which Joxer understood but did not let on. "What were you thinking, Joxer?" She stalked away, shaking her head, and went to rummage through a carved chest on a nearby table.

"I was thinking--" Joxer said and stopped. He didn't want to remember what he had been thinking. He'd spent a lot of time trying not to think it and he was afraid to know if any of it was true, and he'd ask later. He would. Just not right now. "I was thinking I had to get to Sumeria," he said, "so I got on a ship and came here."

"I see you didn't spring for first class," Xena said dryly. She picked up the chakram from the table. "Hands."

He obediently placed his hands on the edge of the tub and tried not to flinch as Xena brought the chakram down hard, hitting the lock of each manacle in a swift precise movement. The poorly-fastened joints gave way before the Olympian metal, and Joxer shook his poor abused wrists loose of the chains.

Xena took one hand and scrutinized it carefully, shaking her head. "I'll get some salve ready for that. Stay there."

And where would I go? Joxer thought. He started to back away from the edge of the tub, but Gabrielle said, "Stay." He froze in place, and she started scrubbing the back of his neck and shoulders.

Joxer devoutly wished these were better circumstances. As it was he was having a hard time not flinching, but Gabrielle didn't seem to notice. "Good heavens, look at you. Ears."

"Ow. Quit it."

"Stand up a bit, I can't get your back. Joxer," she growled when he didn't, "stand up."

Sighing, he leaned his hands on the edge of the tub and partly stood. Maybe she wouldn't--

Gabrielle stopped scrubbing. "Xena," she said softly.

Oh, crap. Now he was in for it. Joxer closed his eyes as Xena walked around the tub to join Gabrielle. She was quiet for a moment, then said in a soft, deadly voice, "Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing."

"Joxer, how did you get to Sumeria?"

"On a ship. I told you." He could feel her eyes, Gabrielle's too, staring at him and after a moment he gave in. "Um. I kind of...worked my way over."

"As a galley slave."

He wilted. "I suppose you could, um, say that."

"Oh...Joxer." Xena's tone was entirely unreadable. She walked away from the tub. "Good gods." After a moment Gabrielle started washing his exposed back, but with much less vigor than before. Joxer didn't like the mood in the air. It made him tense and upset. "I thought you guys were in trouble," he protested weakly. "I had to find some way to get here, I thought--"

"Well, our ship did get intercepted," Gabrielle said. The anger was out of her tone, so whatever he'd done to make her mad seemed to have passed over for now. "But it turned out Nebula sent the pirates to pick us up herself. There was trouble in Egypt, and the Romans were involved. So she brought us here."

"Why?" The question was out before he realized how stupid it sounded.

"That's a good question," Xena said surprisingly. She had walked back to the chest and was sorting through small pouches of herbs. "I'm not quite sure yet."

Joxer raised his head and looked around at the luxuriant apartments. "You mean...she like kidnapped you?"

"I don't know." Xena added some foul-smelling unguent from a pot to a mortar. "She seems to be gracious enough--but we haven't tried to leave yet."

Joxer was almost interested now. Maybe there was something he could help with after all. "You think she wants Eve?"

"Maybe. Maybe she feels it'll help consolidate her power if she has the Avatar as part of her court. Maybe it's not Eve at all she wants, but us. She's made us her personal guards. Excuse me--'offered' us the jobs." Xena hissed slightly between her teeth, the way she did when she was concentrating. "Her position isn't very stable, so perhaps she needs some people she can be sure of on her side. There's not many. A couple of her advisors. Some of the younger heads of the noble families--but most of the families are headed up by older men, with more to lose." She looked to the main doorway across the room. "Speak of the devil."

Joxer automatically looked where she was looking, and almost jumped out of his skin. There was a man standing there, and he'd appeared so silently and suddenly that for a moment Joxer thought he might be hallucinating. Then he recognized the man as the guard he'd pushed down the steps, and changed over to hoping he was hallucinating.

The man stepped into the room with a quiet, dangerous warrior grace, like Xena or Jett, and handed a bundle of cloth to Xena. "This will probably be too big," he said. "But it's a start."

"Thank you, Suleiman." Xena took the bundle and placed it on the table.

"I hope for your sake," the man said gravely, "that they aren't all that weedy where you come from."

"Joxer's unique."

The man glanced at Joxer now, amused, and Joxer shrank down into the tub again, suspecting his face was flaming red under the sting of the multiple humiliations. He cowered behind the lip of the tub as the man turned and left the room as quietly and suddenly as he'd arrived.

"Suleiman," Xena said to his unspoken question. "Old family, but head of Nebula's household Guard. One of the few people we know we can trust."

Head of the Queen's Guard--probably one of the best warriors in the kingdom to hold such a post. And a friend to Nebula, and by extension to Xena and Gab. And Joxer had pushed him down the stairs. Oh gods oh gods oh gods. He sank down even farther, wishing he could hide under the water for about six or seven hours or so until the major humiliation passed.

"Damn it, Joxer," Gabrielle snapped, "stand up and hold still. I have to wash out those..." She grabbed him by the ear and hauled him into a more or less upright position. He yelped in token protest, then gritted his teeth and tried to maintain enough dignity to make no noise at all. He'd tried not to make a lot of noise when he'd gotten the beatings, he'd be damned if he was going to start whining now.

This turned out to be something easier to vow than to do. He was just at the point where he was about to lose it and start yelling when Xena said "Enough", thank the gods. She pushed the bundle into his arms. "Get out and put this on."

He climbed out of the tub, his legs somewhat shaky under him, and carefully avoided looking at the residue in the water. Instead he unrolled the cloth. It was one of those ankle length tunics he'd seen on many people in the crowd. He was rather dubious about the thing, but found when he slipped it on that it was loose and comfortable and, most importantly, didn't rub anywhere. "Come on," Xena said, picking up the salves from the table. "I've got to dress those wounds, and then you're going to go to bed and get some rest. Joxer," she said before he'd even opened his mouth, "don't give me a hard time about this."

He wasn't going to go to bed. He was going to find out what was going on, and go look around, and especially talk to Gabrielle. He took a deep breath as he followed Xena into one of the curtained alcoves, which contained a large, luxurious bed and a crib in which Eve was sleeping soundly. He started to explain to Xena how he wasn't going to stay here, but she snapped her fingers and wordlessly pointed to the bed. Stifling a groan, he obediently lay down on his stomach and decided to wait for her to do whatever it was she was going to do, because she was going to do it whether he let her or not. It was going to hurt, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep at all, and anyway he was terribly hungry and needed to get something to eat, and he had to talk to Gabrielle. Especially he had to talk to Gabrielle. Xena pulled up the tunic and started rubbing the salve into his back, and it stung like poison. And he had to talk to Gabrielle. No way was he going to stay in bed, he decided. He would just tell Xena that, and before he could quite complete the thought he was sound asleep.

-----

Gabrielle stood and watched the closed curtain for a long time, emotions more mixed than usual. The sight of the mess on Joxer's back, and the thought of what caused it, twisted her gut into knots that resisted all attempts at untying. She felt more than a little guilty she hadn't offered more sympathy--gods knew he looked like he needed it--but she shoved the feeling away. Let Joxer know how worried she was and he'd milk it for weeks. No, it was better and kinder in the end for both of them if she stayed put. Sure it was. And he'd be fine. Wouldn't he?... She took a hesitant step toward the alcove just as Xena stepped back into the room. "Xena..."

"He'll be all right." Xena shook her head, sighing. "I'm beginning to think nothing short of a sword straight through the heart could stop Joxer. He's got more lives than a hydra."

"I wish he'd stop this."

"Never happen, Gabrielle. That man was born to trouble."

"I mean this following us around. It's too dangerous for him."

Xena packed the medicines carefully away in the chest. "What did you mean, you told him not to go to Egypt?"

Shit, Gabrielle thought. She'd hoped Xena had missed that. "I, I mean...What I said was..."

"What you told me was that he'd decided not to go. Something about the sun."

"I--" Gabrielle started again, then gave up. "I told him I didn't want him coming with us. Don't look at me like that." Xena wasn't looking at her at all. "I was afraid he'd get himself hurt, or worse. I was only looking out for his well-being."

"I wondered why he left without saying good-bye."

Gabrielle hated it when Xena got supercilious like this and she grabbed the irritation and ran with it. "Darn it, if he'd come with us he might--" He might not have been chained in the bottom of a slave ship for weeks. Damn Joxer, anyway. Why did he have to be so contrary all the time? "It's too dangerous lately." Gabrielle changed tack, lamely even to her own ears. "The gods in an uproar and all. He's already almost gotten himself killed once over Eve. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to him because I didn't send him away when I had a chance."

"Well, he's not going anywhere--away or otherwise--for a few days. He needs to rest. At least it'll be a while before he can be any trouble." Xena sighed. "I'm going to talk to Nebula, see if we can get something set up for him in here. I'll be back in a bit." She left. Gabrielle thought again of going into the alcove, but stayed put. A while before Joxer could be any trouble, what a laugh. The mere existence of Joxer was trouble enough for Gabrielle.

She'd thought putting the physical distance between herself and him would help matters, but during the entire voyage to Egypt she'd kept thinking about him again and again--how Joxer would like the sight of those flying-fish, how Joxer would probably be able to turn the hardtack into something almost edible, how Joxer would tease her mercilessly about her seasickness, how Joxer would probably lean over the rail and practically fall over or something trying to talk to the dolphins. It was almost as bad as if he was actually with her and doing all those things, and the more she'd tried to focus the more he'd weaseled his way into her mind. The jerk. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been doing it on purpose. Then with the excitement, the pirates and the escort back to Sumeria, the preparation for a showdown that never occurred and all, she'd finally managed to put him out of her head. Action was good. She was beginning to understand even more about Xena than she had before; action was good, it drove idle thought away and tired out the body enough to keep it from dreaming at night. And then everything was going perfectly, she and Xena had a safe haven here with Nebula, Eve was safe, no gods to worry about, and she was too happy to even think about Joxer--and the next thing she knew there he was literally falling at her feet, looking a mess and ruining all that nice work she'd done on putting the memories she didn't want to think about and their associations she wouldn't let herself think about away. Darn Joxer, anyhow. Why did he have to go around...existing all the time?

Gabrielle sat down on a lounge and watched the closed curtain for a long time, emotions more mixed than usual.

-----

Xena left Joxer to sleep for a while and went to talk to Gabrielle, but the younger warrior made excuses and went to bed early. Xena didn't blame her.

How much did Gabrielle know? Gods knew Xena knew about the reputation of the Sumerians. Hadn't Nebula used to brag about it in the old days? And Joxer, the way he lived, he'd had to have known. So certainly he'd known what he'd be getting into, and there was no sense coddling him. He'd made his choice and would live with it. Joxer was like that. He was tough, and he responded much better to coldness than to warmth. If she was careful not to allow him any sympathy, he'd pull through just fine.

Of course, that was going to be a little difficult tonight. She pulled back the curtain leading to her room and looked at him sprawled out upon her bed. Well--one night wouldn't hurt, she thought, feeling a half-smile tug at the edge of her mouth.

Besides, she'd drugged him heavily enough to keep him from being aware of what was happening. At the thought the smile vanished--she had to tend to some of those wounds to keep them from going septic, and he probably wouldn't have allowed her to touch them if he was awake. She moved around the room, lighting several more lamps to help her work. Eve was already awake, sitting up in her crib and watching silently. She looked at her mother but made no noise.

"It's all right," Xena told her. She checked the pot of salve she had carefully buried in the ashes at one side of the hearth and, satisfied it was warm enough, took it to the table by the bedside. Joxer was still lying on his stomach, so sound asleep he wasn't even snoring, dead weight in her hands as she pulled the tunic off him and rolled him over onto his back. Something threatened to catch in her throat at the sight of his face, the muscles twitching at the behest of a nightmare.

"Where did you come from, Joxer?" she asked softly, knowing there was no answer. She tried to smooth away the tension in his face. "Why did you wind up so entangled with us? Your life couldn't have been meant to turn out this way." She should never have allowed it to happen, she should have chased him off in the beginning--but Gabrielle enjoyed fencing with him so much, and Xena herself had thought back then that all the bad days were behind her. Gods knew she'd corrupted enough innocents for a thousand lifetimes. She'd thought she was through with destroying everyone around her just by her proximity.

And she'd never, never thought it would happen to Joxer.

She pushed the thought away, concentrating only on the details of wounds and salves, coolly assessing physical damage to occupy her mind and keep it from going where she didn't want it to. "That's the way to do it, Joxer," she said softly, knowing he couldn't hear her. "Just don't think about it, don't dwell on it. The past is past. Forget it all, and you'll be all right. Just do what I do, and you'll be fine. Everything will be fine someday," she said and didn't allow the half-thought in the back of her head to blossom into fullness, the one that wanted to ask who she was talking to. "Someday, it will."

-3-

Despite everything, Joxer woke early the next morning. There was so much to do! He rolled over in the bed carefully so as not to wake Xena, yawned, and saw Eve looking at him from her crib. He sat up and poked his fingers through the bars. "Hi, Evie," he said softly.

She half-stood up and toddled to him. She was walking! Well, almost. He'd missed so much in those long weeks apart from them, what else had gone by without his knowing? Eve laughed at his amazement and grabbed at his hand. "You glad to see me?" he cooed softly. "Yes, I'm glad to see you too. Good little Evie. Not nasty and scrubbing like Auntie Gabrielle."

"Joxer," Xena muttered sleepily, "don't encourage her. I get hardly any sleep as is."

"Oops, sorry." He chucked Eve under her chin once before standing up, a much slower and more painful process than it needed to be, darn it--and looked around. Then he looked around some more. Then he looked around some more.

"Outside in the garden behind the acacias," Xena said without bothering to turn over and look at him.

"Ah."

"Running water, like in Rome. Very nice."

It was nice. In fact, it was all nice. He hadn't had a chance to really appreciate it yesterday, not with the shoving and the washing and everything, but the palace was wonderful. It was set high on the hill overlooking the harbor, and had many rooms and corridors open to the sea breezes to cut the Sumerian heat. The limited access, apparently only up that long flight of marble steps he'd embarrassed himself on, could easily be cut off for defensive purposes. Here he was, worried sick about what might be happening to Gab and Xena--and here they were, living in the lap of luxury. Typical. Typical, but all in all much better than the alternative.

He washed off his hands in the spring and admired the garden for a while, becoming distracted by brightly colored birds that flitted from tree to tree too fast to see clearly. Just flashes of color, here, there, and then gone. After a while he reentered the apartments and found Xena changing Eve's diaper.

"Can I help?"

"We're fine here, Joxer, go away."

"I can change it for you."

"I've got it."

"Do you want me to--"

"Joxer," Xena said in a tone that for her was kind, but still allowed no argument. "I'll take care of Eve. You're still ill, you should go lie down and rest."

"I feel fine," Joxer said, a little more loudly than was probably prudent. Okay, physically he didn't feel that great, but overall he felt terrific being back with Gab and Xena and Eve and all. Or would feel terrific if they would just act a little bit glad to see him in return. Eve gurgled as if she knew what he was thinking. He made a face back at her and caused her to laugh.

"Yes, Evie," Xena said. "Silly Uncle Joxer. He should go lie down and have a nap, shouldn't he?"

"Tell Mommy Uncle Joxer is going to look for Aunt Gabrielle."

"Tell Uncle Joxer Auntie Gabrielle has gone out on patrol with Suleiman, and he should just go lie down and have a nap."

"Ask Mommy exactly who she thinks the baby is around here."

"Ask Uncle Joxer isn't it obvious?"

Joxer gave up and left the apartment by the main door. He found himself in a featureless and enormously long corridor, marked here and there by doors that he knew better than to open at random. Not in a palace, anyway. Well, he'd just follow the corridor and see where it led to, this hopefully not being some guy with a spear.

The smooth marble was cool under his feet, and he caught an occasional whiff of sea breeze from the small barred windows set high along the walls. It was still early, but from the time he'd spent in the garden he knew it was already getting hot outside. But it was nice in here, and even if he didn't find anything interesting at least he was inside out of the sun. He was already burned like heck in two or three places just from being out on the plaza yesterday, and Gabrielle was right about that. Not that he would admit it to her, darn her anyway. He still hadn't been able to talk to her, and he had to explain to her how she shouldn't be mad, because he had a feeling she was mad, because--

As usual when Joxer started thinking about Gabrielle, he stopped thinking about anything else, and he didn't even notice the person until he actually bumped into her. "Sorry," he said automatically, and then he recognized Nebula. "Real sorry," he said quickly. "Really."

Nebula grinned her famous grin at him. It made her look like a happy wolf, slightly pleasant, slightly scary, and even more unreadable than Xena. "Hey, studmuffin. I was coming by to check on how you were doing."

"I'm okay." Joxer knew that technically Nebula was a Queen and he should be addressing her much more formally and from a much safer distance, but he'd been in several bars, two fights, and a tattoo parlor with her, which made formality a little difficult.

"Xena said you got worked over pretty bad on the ship."

Xena fucking talks too much, Joxer thought in that part of his mind that was never allowed to speak. "It's not a big deal. I escaped and everything's fine."

"Let me see," Nebula said and had stepped around him and was pulling up his tunic before he knew what was happening. He squirmed away, outraged. "Leggo!"

Nebula hissed. "What ship were you on?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." The happiness had vanished, but the wolf remained. "I'll have its captain decommissioned, and if he's a noble I'll strip him of his title. Slavery's illegal in the mercantile fleet."

Joxer blinked. "Illegal? You mean, like..."

"Like it's not allowed. Period."

"How did you do that?"

"I'm the Queen. I decreed it. Poof." Nebula snapped her fingers. "I'm going to wipe it out from the country entirely, but I had to start small."

This was absolutely the weirdest thing Joxer had ever heard in his life. "You're going to have no slaves? None at all?"

"Not a one," Nebula said cheerfully.

"But..." Joxer tried to wrap his mind around the concept and failed. "But you have to have slaves. How else would you get anything done?"

"I don't have any slaves. There are no slaves in the palace, or on any of my personal properties."

"Not you personally, I mean just, y'know, in general."

"We learn to do things for ourselves. For example. There are no slaves allowed in the fleet any more, so there's more work for sailors because the owners can't fill the ships with free help. It was a very popular decision."

"For the sailors."

"I'm one myself, don't forget. You're right, the nobles hate it...but there's many more sailors than there are nobles. And many more cooks and housekeepers and gardeners. I do this a step at a time, and the people will be behind me. See?"

"Yes."

Nebula looked surprised at this. "If I didn't know better I'd say you did understand."

"Of course I do." Joxer was always surprised at the disinterest of non-Athenians in political matters. Politics was the national sport at home, and much more interesting than any wrestling match or chariot race he'd ever seen. "You'll get trouble from the slave owners, though."

"Oh, yes. The Houses hate me, and someone will probably try to kill me," she added cheerfully.

Something clicked. "So that's why you kidnapped Xena and Gab. To guard you."

"'Kidnapped' is a naughty word. Let's just say I...diverted them. Besides, they're a lot better off than they would have been in Egypt."

"Yeah," Joxer muttered under his breath resentfully.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing at all. Really," he said weakly, and wondered why it was that all the females he knew, right down to Argo, seemed to be able to see right through him. Certainly Nebula was doing that now.

She seemed to reach some kind of decision. "Come with me," she said and strode off. That was another thing about women, he thought as he followed Nebula down a branching corridor, another and another, moving closer to the center of the complex. They were always giving orders. Especially Gabrielle, gosh darn it. Telling him not to go to Egypt, telling him not to come close, telling him not to go away, like she was in charge or something... Again he was distracted by thoughts of Gabrielle, and again he walked straight into Nebula. "Ow."

"Wait for the door to open first," she said, amused. There were two guards standing on either side of the door, and one of them opened it for her. Joxer followed her into a small room equipped with a writing-desk and many shelves of scrolls, and a platter of bread and olives and cold meats set out on a long table. The smell made him weak in the knees.

"My study," Nebula said, "and my breakfast. You look like you need it more than I do, though." He hesitated and she said, "Go ahead, help yourself."

They sat at the table and Joxer went straight for the bread. Fresh bread, without worms in it. And real meat, and fruit! He hadn't been able to stomach more than a few bites the previous afternoon, but his appetite returned all at once and he dove at the platters. Nebula claimed a substantial portion for herself but allowed him to eat the rest as he would.

When he finally started to slow down, she said, "So. Tell me the story."

"Grpmh?" Oops. Talking to a Queen with mouth full. Probably a capital offense.

"Tell me the story." Nebula was watching him closely, had been watching him closely the whole time, he belatedly realized; he quickly checked the front of the tunic for spills. "Of how you got here."

"Okay." Joxer was fairly good at telling stories, and although he refused to show it he really was kind of glad of the chance to sit down. Nebula sat across from him and folded her arms on the table in a mockery of listening with rapt attention, which amused him greatly. He matched her by starting off the tale in a deep, pretentious voice like the street poets in Athens used; but after a while he forgot to act pretentious, and she forgot to act amused. When he was finished, she was quiet for a few moments and then said, "Tell me something, Joxer."

"What?"

"I've always admired Xena for her ability to get men to follow her blindly, anywhere, into anything. But those men...well, I think I knew their motivations. What I don't understand is you. Why do you follow her? Why does she let you? You're not anything like any man I've ever known Xena to have dealings with, and it's just a puzzle to me."

Joxer thought of saying a lot of things, about how Xena found him useful, about how he'd saved her and Gab's butts several times, about how indispensable he was, all of which he suspected were lies. Finally he said, "I don't know. Why do we love the people we love?" Then he remembered who'd said that to him, and all of a sudden his appetite was gone.

Nebula shook her head slightly and made a tsking sound. "You're an odd one. You know that, don't you?"

"Xena says I'm unique." He knew this was true, and recounted it with pride.

"That's one word for it." Nebula looked dubiously at him for a long moment, then the wolf grin slid down across her face and hid whatever she might have been thinking behind it. "Well, important matters of state to attend to. There's going to be a really stupid boring banquet at the next quarter-moon I have to attend. How about we get you into some better clothes and you come along as my guest? Shake up blondie a little, what d'you say?"

Well, well, well. Something interesting. "I'd love to."

"Fine. Xena's having a bed put in for you down in her room; I'll have the chamberlain deliver some clothes as well. See you later."

"Bye," Joxer went to the door and froze up.

After a moment Nebula said, "Okay, what?"

"I, uh...I think I'm lost."

She stood up with an amused, exasperated sigh. Another one of those woman things. "I'll walk you back. Mind now, I don't do this for just anyone, so I'll expect you to be eternally grateful."

"Oh, I will be." He'd had breakfast. He was getting his own bed and something else to wear, and he'd be with Gabrielle and Xena, and they'd been saved from gods know what in Egypt, and Eve was safe, and he was back with them again. "I already am," he said honestly. "I already am."

-4-

Stuff was weird for a few days. Joxer kept feeling like he could jump out of his own skin at every little noise, and Xena and Gab were pretending like he wasn't there, which usually meant they were annoyed but they weren't acting annoyed. Maybe they were just busy, but still. Weird stuff.

He didn't really feel like going out and exploring the town for some reason. Probably still tired from his trip and all, he figured; besides, there was plenty to explore within the palace walls. The palace of the kings of Sumeria was a fable, something in a street poet's story, and here he was, actually inside it.

And the stories, fabulous as they were, didn't do it justice. He'd seen real, honest-to-Zeus cities with walls and everything smaller than the palace. It took the Guard a full day to make a circuit on the road atop the surrounding wall, and that road was broader and better-laid than most he'd seen on the ground. Intricate mosaic murals lined the endless hallways, every one different, scenes from a history and a lineage that was so ancient that the griots apprenticed for fifty years before they knew it all. And underfoot in those same halls were more mosaics, intricately patterned and here and there inlaid with the indecipherable script of the holy scrolls, every single inch of it different. There were many open areas with small gardens and fountains, and then there was the hanging garden.

The hanging garden. It took Joxer two days to find his way to it, and when he finally did he allowed himself to feel smug for a long while as he looked and looked and tried to take it all in. The garden was at the exact center of the palace complex, as large as the Athenian agora and just as crowded--but where home was crowded with people and pushcarts and merchants and warriors, the garden was crowded with ruins and rocks and running water and the green fronds of a thousand different kinds of plants. Hardly anyone had ever been to the garden. Heredotus had written about it, and Hercules had been here once, and he thought maybe the Argonauts, or maybe Achilles, he was always getting the Argonauts and Achilles mixed up because they both started with alpha. But whoever it was that had been here, they were brave and fearless explorers who had gone where almost no one dared to, and now he was one of them. Joxer the Wanderer. It had a nice ring to it.

The rocky terraces and tumbled-down stones of the garden were said to be the remnants of another palace, even more ancient and more wonderful than the one that stood here now on its same site. The invaluable water allowed to run freely in streams and cascades spoke more about the wealth and power of those long-lost kings, as well of that of Nebula's Lion House, than any display of gold and pomp ever could. Joxer closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in the air, damp, ozone-tinged, sweet-smelling; it was air like that at home, not like the dry Sumerian winds that blew in from the mountains, or the salt-soaked breezes that came in from the sea. He followed the winding dirt paths away from the garden's edges into its center, away from the odd looks of the nobles walking along the marble-paved main walkways, and deep into the ruins. This path, deliberately left worn and bare like a pilgrim's road, led to the most famous of all the palace's legends. Joxer stopped respectfully before the huge structure and waited to see if it would allow him to approach. You never could tell with gods.

This was supposed to be some long-forgotten god, his name lost along with that of the people who worshipped him. In fact, a casual onlooker might think it was no crumbled statue at all but a tumbled-down wall or merely a pile of lichen-covered rocks, but a casual onlooker would never make it here. The remains of the statue, and the fountains and overgrown pools flanking it, were as famous in Sumeria as the statue at Rhodes was at home, but much harder to access. Only those invited into the palace grounds were ever allowed to see it. Only those with the best connections were allowed to approach it and bask in its faded, sad beauty. Joxer had no connections, but the ancient god seemed not to mind. He edged up to the fountains and trailed his fingers in the water. Small fish darted up and nibbled before deciding he was inedible, and diving away in disgust.

Joxer grinned. The water spilled over the edge of the basin through a crack and ran down away behind the statue. He wondered if the fish came from there, or if they went there. Following the small creek, he pushed aside the brush and wriggled through the branches, and around the back of the statue.

And here the stone remained solid, a lichen-covered wall blocking the worst of the sunlight, leaving a patch of mossy ground in its shadow. There was sun, trickling through the branches of the trees that arched overhead, but not so much as to allow the large plants of the rest of the garden to run riot. The small clearing that resulted was cool, and mossy, and wonderfully private, and such a beautiful spot Joxer was amazed he'd never heard of it. But the brush was awful thick around the statue's base, and maybe, just maybe, no one had ever thought to go around the back of it. Until now.

Hardly daring to breathe, Joxer edged into the open space. It was a perfect place for being quiet, and alone, and thinking. It looked like one of those places Gabrielle always sought out to meditate in and seldom could find. It even had the running water she loved so much. He stretched himself down on the ground, looking up into the pure blue Sumerian sky. Yes, Gabrielle would love it here. There were even some nice flat rocks for her to sit on. She'd love it! He bounced to his feet, too excited with the secret to hold still. He'd tell her as soon as he saw her again. The very minute!

"That's nice," Gabrielle said. She didn't quite look him in the eye as she unlaced the belt around her hips that held the scabbards for her sai, and kept her blousy shirt from falling entirely open in the front instead of only as far as her navel. Gabrielle seemed a little odd, had looked a little odd ever since he'd arrived, and Joxer worried that there might be something wrong with her.

"No, really," he said. "It's a perfect place for meditating."

"I meditate out in the garden. When I have time."

"Yeah, it's just like out there. Except more hidden, and the rocks are all with moss all over them, and..." Joxer tried to draw the scene in the air in front of him, frustrated beyond measure that he couldn't find the right words to describe it. Because if he did, she would love it. He knew she would. She just had to go look, that was all.

"I'll have to check it out sometime." Gabrielle straightened up, assuming a brisk air. "I'm glad to see you're getting around, Joxer. Maybe we can find something useful for you to do in a few days."

"Gabrielle--"

"I've got to catch a nap before tonight's patrol. See you." She turned and walked away, slipping behind the curtain, and Joxer hissed softly at himself. His fault, he hadn't made it clear enough. And Gabrielle was still acting weird. Not get-lost-Joxer weird, but some other kind of weird, and he was starting to worry about her.

And he couldn't do what he would normally do, which would be go to Xena and tell her he was worried about Gabrielle and trust her to take care of it, because if Gabrielle was only talking to him in short sentences with her face averted at least she was talking to him. Xena wasn't talking to him at all. And he couldn't blame her.

She was as cold as ice and as distant as the mountains in Italy. She wasn't mad at him, she was beyond mad, and he had simply ceased to exist. He dropped his head when she went by, tried to remain invisible, tried not to bring the shame and disapproval that he deserved down upon his head, but he was living right there with her and she was impossible to avoid. She knew. He realized this in his gut. She knew everything that happened, everything that he'd done, and she despised him for it. And what this might ultimately mean--well, whatever it was, he couldn't bear to think about it. So he didn't think about it. There were so many things right now he couldn't afford to think about, and he wound up sitting behind the ancient god in the garden not thinking about them a whole lot. The world was wrong and this time he didn't know how to fix it.

-5-

"Block."

The sword whipped around towards Gabrielle's knees, so quickly she barely flipped the sai down to block it in time.

"Again."

This time the sword cut headed for her side and at the last minute angled straight up toward her face. Again she barely caught it, at an awkward angle that wrenched her wrist so badly she almost lost her grip on the sai.

"Block."

No, maybe I'll just stand here and let myself get cut in two. What do you think I am? Stupid? she thought furiously. The next cut came from above, and she crossed the sai and caught the blade between them. The sword withdrew.

"Focus, little one."

Gabrielle thought she might scream. I hate it when he calls me "little one". I just fucking hate it...

And the blade whipped up unexpectedly under her raised arms. It tapped her on one wrist, on the other, then the point deftly landed upon her heart. "A shame," Suleiman said. "You have no hands, and also you are dead."

Gabrielle sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat--and in anticipation of the lecture that was about to follow. "How many times have I told you, little one?" Suleiman chided. "Emotion has no place in a fight. You must put all out of your head and focus only on the battle."

"I'm not emotional."

"You've been distracted all day."

"I'm not emotional, and I'm not distracted," Gabrielle assured him, a tinge of irritation creeping into her voice. She liked Suleiman--his calm, dignified air reminded her of her father, and she was learning a lot from both working with him and from these individual training sessions--but sometimes the paternal bit got just a little hard to take. If she wanted people reading her mind, she'd go let Xena lecture her. "Let's try again."

"No, enough for today." Suleiman wiped off his sword as carefully as if it had been actually used. He paused a moment before slipping it back into its scabbard. "Gabrielle, have you thought more about--"

"About switching over to a sword," Gabrielle finished for him, "no, thank you. I prefer the sai. They're more balanced."

"But not useful in all situations. As we've just seen." Suleiman's ivory-hilted sword was an exquisite example of the basic Sumerian weapon--a long, single-edged, slightly curved blade that required two hands to wield properly, well-suited to the tall Sumerians with their long-range fencing style--but Gabrielle's sai worked best in close, and she still hadn't figured out a technique for getting in close without getting dead first.

"I'll figure something out, sooner or later." She wiped the blades of her sai clean in turn, one after the other, already wondering where she'd gone wrong, what she could try the next time. Part of the problem was Suleiman was almost as good a fighter as Xena, and he could probably defeat her with nothing more than an olive and a cloak pin. Most of the other guards were keeping a disdainful distance from Nebula's new foreign and female assistants, so there was little chance of getting someone of lesser ability to spar with. Maybe someone else, had to be someone tall, someone not highly skilled, someone like--She ran her thumb too close to the tip of the sai and punctured it. "Ow!"

"So," Suleiman said, amused, "you are not distracted?"

"No," Gabrielle snarled.

"Focus in the little things as well. That is the point of cleaning off your weapons. It helps to calm and clear the mind after the excitement of battle."

"I thought the point was so that they didn't rust."

"That is also a benefit," he said, straight-faced.

Gabrielle prepared to say something, then caught herself and sighed. "I shouldn't have snapped. I apologize."

"No need." Suleiman walked over and sat down on one of the plain stone benches placed along the edges of the training yard. The high walls cast long shadows in the late afternoon sun, and the sea breeze was picking up, the smell of the ocean and the cries of gulls wafting through the air. He closed his eyes and tilted his greying head up, listening. "It is a wonderful afternoon," he said.

"They're all wonderful here," Gabrielle said. "This is really such a lovely city."

"Yes, it is. How is your friend?"

"My fr--Oh. Joxer." Gabrielle turned away and repolished one of the sai, scrubbing it hard with the cloth. "He's fine."

"I was a little surprised you have not taken time off since he arrived. I thought you would wish to catch up with him."

"Can't turn back on my duty." Gabrielle scrubbed harder. "Besides...besides, Xena says he still needs to rest up. He's probably been in bed all day. I'll talk to him tonight, before the banquet."

"Ah," said Suleiman. "You know, if you clean that any more, you may break it in two."

"It won't break," Gabrielle said through gritted teeth. Focus. Just like Suleiman said, just like Xena said. All she needed to do...was...focus. "Trust me. It won't break. I've tried."

"Ah," said Suleiman again. "I see."

Tired and sweaty, but with amazingly clean sai, Gabrielle trudged down the last of the seemingly endless corridors to her room. She need a wash, and a nap, but she had to attend the banquet tonight and keep an eye on an endless parade of supercilious, hostile nobles as they milled around the room and glared at Nebula. What incredible fun. Stifling a sigh, she pushed the door open. Xena was sitting on the couch with Joxer, holding Eve in her lap. "How'd the training go today?" she asked.

"Fine. Hi, Joxer. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good."

"Been out some today?"

"Yeah." He'd shed the dashiki a few days earlier in favor of the loose linen shirt and pants that were usually only worn by servants. It was a much more comfortable outfit to those used to civilized clothing, though. Gabrielle wore one of the shirts herself when she could get away with it. Tonight was not going to be one of those times. "A little bit," he added, and instead of elaborating on the statement cooed at Eve and tickled her so that she laughed.

So Joxer didn't want to continue the awkward conversation any more than she did. Relieved, Gabrielle walked to her own private alcove. "I've got to get changed for tonight," she said before realizing it might have been tactless.

The look Xena shot her confirmed it. "We have to go to a state banquet tonight," she told Joxer. "Stand watch over Nebula. It should be incredibly dull. You're welcome to come, of course, if you want."

"Oh, I'm already going. Nebula invited me."

"Nebula?" Gabrielle hadn't meant to speak aloud, but she did.

"Yeah, when I had breakfast with her, right after I got here, she invited me to come and sit with her tonight. She said the same thing about it being dull, but we'll see." He shrugged.

"Well," said Xena. "Well...that's good, then." She glanced at Gabrielle. "Isn't it, Gabrielle?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's...fine." Gabrielle tried to think of something to say and could not. "I...I've got to get dressed." She pulled aside the curtain and stepped inside, allowing it to fall shut behind her.

Okay, so Joxer was going to be at the banquet. No big deal. He'd be with Nebula, so he wouldn't be any trouble. With Nebula? Well, anyway. Well, he must be feeling better if he felt he could go out tonight, and she and Xena could keep an eye on him and see if he was getting too tired and send him back to lie down or something, did he say "sit with her"? Well, anyway. Well, she'd better get dressed, and it was good Joxer was going to be there, really, it was...She accidentally stabbed herself in the finger again with one of the sai as she was laying them aside, yelped and swore like an Athenian fishwife for a lot longer than such a little prick would seem to require.

She finally managed to wrestle into her ceremonial armor, a process which put her in a bad mood all by herself, and walked in silence behind Xena and Joxer as they made their way to the banquet hall. She didn't want to lose her temper and snap when there was no good reason for it. Not when there were always so many good reasons with Nebula around. The armor was one of them. Required by custom and ritual for formal occasions, it swathed her in so much leather and metal and bright draperies she felt she could barely move. Suleiman agreed with this, and wore simple leathers only--but then Suleiman was head of the Guard and thus could do as he pleased, while she was a foreigner and a woman and had best stick to traditions. Aggravating as they might be, she thought, pulling at a breastpiece that was shaped for a man and pinched annoyingly. Xena was equally annoyed by the poor fit, but as Xena said it was a good sight better than the formal dress the court women wore. As they walked down the long corridors, they passed knots of the court women shuffling slowly along in order to avoid tripping on the brightly-colored toga-like wraps they wore over the layers of underclothing that fashion decreed need be long enough to drag along the floor in front and back. They wore dozens of strings of beads and multiple bangles that weighed down their arms, clanking and rattling like so many tinkers' carts as they crept along.

No, the standard female outfit was nothing to envy. Eve was somebody to envy, riding happily in the special pack Xena had made up, clinging to her mother's back like a monkey's child and laughing at all the bright colors and new sounds. Eve was somebody to envy and for that matter, so was Joxer. He didn't come anywhere near filling out the shirt or pants but he was tall enough that they fit reasonably well, and although it was a lot plainer than anything else they'd see in the banquet hall at least it wasn't tight. That breastpiece was pinching again. Gabrielle turned her attention from Joxer back to that aggravating strap, and started fiddling with it.

Joxer kept almost walking into her or Xena or the wall, his attention continually diverted by things that caught his eye or people they passed. Once they passed a pair of guards, in the same ceremonial armor, long swords sheathed at their sides. The guards glared at them, challenging; Xena glared back and they dropped their gaze and went on by. Joxer twisted his head around, watching them go. "Who was that?"

"Some of the House Guard."

"They don't seem to like you much."

"We're women," Xena said simply.

"So's Nebula."

"They don't like that either. Fortunately the tradition of protecting the monarch is stronger than the tradition of keeping women in their place."

Gabrielle, forgetting herself, rolled her eyes and spoke. "I am so sick of hearing about the Sumerian traditions."

Joxer started to say something, hesitated, and said, "But it looks like Nebula's turning them to her advantage. I mean, protecting the monarch outweighing the monarch being a man, and all."

"Exactly," Xena said. "Nebula's a tricky one. But growing up in this vipers' nest, I'm not surprised." She nodded at a group up ahead; brightly dressed men, wearing those long tunics or shorter and more maneuverable versions of the same wraps the women wore. "In Nebula's clan alone, there are half-a-dozen males with a claim to the throne. And most of the noble families also lay claim to it, with varying degrees of legitimacy. If Nebula hadn't taken the throne after her brother died, this country would have been knee-deep in blood. And in that kind of situation, it's never the people causing it who are the ones to die. This way," she said abruptly and turned down a small side corridor. "Back way in."

The corridor was small and dark and Gabrielle, bringing up the rear, saw Joxer instinctively ducking his head to avoid the low ceiling. "This palace is full of these passages," she advised him. "It's like a rabbit warren. Be careful you don't go down any by accident, you could get lost for weeks."

"I get lost just going out the front door."

"Like this is news?" Gabrielle said. Suddenly they were talking easily again, as they always had.

"Hey. I got here, didn't I?"

And just as suddenly they weren't. Gabrielle tried to think of some light offhand answer and couldn't, and then they entered a brightly-lit anteroom. Suleiman was there, and so was Nebula. In defiance of the dress code, she was wearing a simple saffron-colored gown, and the hammered bangles around her neck and arms were pure gold. She looked every inch a queen, if wolves had queens, and she grinned and clapped her hands together and said, "Now that we're all here, let the boredom begin."

Suleiman shook his head and sighed, and led the way thorough a curtained doorway. Xena preceded Nebula, and Gabrielle took up the rear. What do we do with Joxer? she wondered to herself, but Nebula answered that question by linking her arm through his. "You're with me," she said.

"Whatever you say, Your Highness," he said, lightly flirtatious. That strap was still bugging Gabrielle and she gave it one more fierce tug before they stepped out into the hall.

-6-

The room was lined in white marble, and the light from the multiple torches set along the wall reflected off the walls and floor, sparkling here and there from large chunks of raw diamond and emerald set into the floor at carefully random intervals to look as if they had been carelessly scattered beneath everyone's feet. They entered at the head of the room, right behind a large, intricately carved table that stood on a slightly raised dais looking out over the room. Nebula went to sit at the head table and motioned for Joxer to sit next to her. Suleiman took up his post standing at one end of the table, and Gabrielle stood at the other. Xena stood behind Nebula, and the room was open before them.

Servants put platters on the table, roast meats and fowls, stews bright with pumpkin, piles of that good bread, and hot hot sauce for dipping. Joxer slid over a little so that Xena could reach, but she shook her head. "We'll eat later. We're on duty. You go ahead."

So, following Nebula's lead, he did. People came up on the dais in twos and threes to pay their respects, making small talk. Nebula asked them questions about new babies, business reversals, sons gone abroad, husbands purchased for daughters. She seemed not only to know every single person in the room but all about them, never failing to speak of some personal interest to even one of them. Joxer, whose memory had large holes in it at the best of times, was extremely impressed. When his father had held court for a much smaller number of supplicants, he'd had slaves with the details written down on scrolls to prompt himself with. Nebula was doing this all by herself. It was a talent he didn't know she had, and one he could see would be incredibly useful for a queen. He looked out over the crowd and thought to himself if he could learn one name tonight that he wouldn't forget by the morning, he'd be satisfied.

The colors were dazzling. The Sumerians were fond of bright colors and mixed them with aplomb, and the sight reminded Joxer of the birds he'd seen in the garden. They milled about in much the same fashion, moving here or there at random, feeding from the bowls and platters set out on long tables down each side of the room, then flitting off back into the crowd. He and Nebula sat on the only chairs in the room. Everyone else was standing, and moving about, and the colors continually changed and shifted. "How beautiful," he said aloud.

Xena snorted. "So's an asp," she said. "Speaking of which."

Joxer recognized her tone. Danger. He saw a man and a woman approaching the dais, and even without Xena's warning he felt his spine stiffen.

The couple stepped up onto the dais with an easy grace that bordered on insolence. The man was tall and elegant, his flawless skin a smooth dark brown. His clothing was the same saffron-color of Nebula's, and he also wore the same hammered-gold ornaments around his neck and arms. The woman was devastating. Devastating in a dangerous way, like Xena, like Callisto, the kind of hard-edged beauty that a man could slice himself to ribbons on. Her skin was such a deep brown as to be almost black, and despite the heavy wrap she moved smoothly as a snake. Her almond-shaped eyes looked him over. "Ooh," she said, in a voice of warm honey, "it's so pale. Is it even human? You have very strange tastes, Nebula."

"Funny," Nebula said. She leaned her elbows on the table and grinned the wolf grin. "I was just thinking the same thing about Khalil."

"Yes, it is nice to see you too, sister," the man said. He did not even try to put any sincerity into his tone.

"Half-sister," Nebula explained to Joxer. "The right half, that is. See, poor Khalil expected to ascend the throne when my full brother Gilgamesh died, but sadly he was only half-blood and it was not to be."

Khalil smiled, and suddenly the resemblance between him and Nebula was apparent. He too was a wolf. "But of course I am totally supportive of you, dear ...half-sister. As always." He now looked at Joxer and nodded appraisingly. "Despite your unusual hobbies."

The hackles on the back of Joxer's neck prickled. Khalil was looking him over the way he might look over a horse he intended to buy while his hand idly fingered the handle of the large dagger stuck through his belt, a gilded hilt that ended in a lion's head. Khalil drew his thumb over the lion's head as if he knew Joxer was watching; the lion, the symbol of the royal house of Sumeria. Joxer instinctively moved his hand toward his sword hilt--and remembered. He no longer had his sword. He no longer had his sword, his dagger, or even so much as a small meat-knife. He felt suddenly naked and exposed, and Khalil's eyes raked over him again, seeing the weakness. "You know," he said conversationally, "my cousin Hassim said he'd picked up a slave much like this one in Egypt. The same pale, hairless skin. He thought he could get a good price for it from a dealer in exotica, but it jumped overboard in the harbor and was lost. A shame."

"It would have been a great shame," Nebula agreed, "if Hassim was trafficking in slaves and would have to face charges for it. But then we all know it is against the law."

"Just as it is against the law to steal a slave and not return him to his rightful owner," Khalil agreed. He shrugged elaborately. "Ah, politics. I pay little attention, as you know. That is Nyosa's silly little pastime."

The woman--Nyosa--smiled broadly. "You should really be more careful about picking up strays, Nebula. You don't know where they've been."

"As long as they've not been anywhere near you, I should be fine," Nebula said. She eyed Khalil, and the wolves bared their fangs at each other in the semblance of smiles. Then Khalil said, "Well, it is a fine banquet, sister, as always. I will see you later." He turned and looked Joxer directly in the eye. "And you too, softskin."

Nyosa laughed, a tinkling sound like something irreplaceable breaking. She and Khalil sauntered off the dais insultingly slowly, until Suleiman gave them a hard look and they moved away and disappeared into the crowd.

Xena nodded after them. "There's an enemy," she said.

"Nyosa? Oh, yes." Nebula waved the invisible annoyance away. "She wants to be attached to the person in power and she doesn't care who it is. I know Khalil. He's too damn lazy to want to be King. I'm sure he's only giving me a hard time because she's working on him, and I'll bet he's not the only one in my clan on her project list. She's even got her hooks into some of the Guard."

"You have to get rid of her."

"I can't just take her out and lop her head off. I don't rule like that. Besides." Nebula pulled off a piece of bread and scooped up a generous amount of the fiery red sauce, swallowing the whole thing with relish. "The game is more fun this way."

Xena sighed. "It's not a game."

"Politics is a game. It's the greatest game of all. Isn't that right, Athens-boy?" She nudged Joxer with an elbow. "I...Joxer? What's wrong?"

Joxer was sitting up stiffly in his chair, his face chalk-white, staring straight ahead. "Joxer?" Xena asked, alarmed.

He twitched slightly at the sound of her voice and shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

"Bullshit."

Suleiman, alerted, looked over. "Gods. Not poison?..."

"No," Joxer said loudly. "No, I'm fine. It's just..." He paused and Xena touched him lightly on the shoulder in a questioning gesture. Gabrielle, unnoticed on the other side of the table, stood tense as a drawn bowstring, listening. "That guy. He called me...that name." He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "'Softskin'. That's what the captain on the ship called me."

"So," Nebula said after a moment. "It was Hassim's ship." She fingered another piece of bread and put it down. "I'll bring him to trial."

"Your Highness, is that wise?" Suleiman said. "He's part of your clan, he's in line for the throne. The Houses will..."

"The Houses will learn that the law is the law," Nebula said sharply. "And they will learn that I mean what I say."

Xena, her voice cold and hard, said, "I want to meet this Hassim."

"No."

"I said--"

"No," Nebula said firmly. "We'll bring him to trial. Trust me, he'll suffer longer and harder that way." She looked at Joxer. "Can you identify Hassim?"

"Oh, yes."

"That's what we'll do, then. You okay there, studmuffin?"

"I told you. I'm fine."

"Atta boy." Nebula thumped him on the shoulder. "Sit back and enjoy the rest of the evening, and don't worry about a thing."

"I wasn't," Joxer said in a slightly sharp tone, but Nebula ruffled his hair. "We'll have musicians in later. Do you dance?"

"Very well," said Joxer, which was true. Often when he was distracted by listening to the music he forgot to trip.

"Then dance we will. Once we get more of this bread. Hey, you over there...the Queen wants bread."

The air of tension Nyosa and Khalil had left behind them dissolved, and everyone relaxed. Everyone save Gabrielle, who could not for the life of her think of anything to say, and for some reason was unable to take her eyes off Nebula's hand as it rested on Joxer's shoulder. Suddenly she realized she had to make a circuit of the hall and check to make sure everything was all right, and so she did.

She wove among the tall, dark, elegant Sumerians, feeling their eyes on her--short, washed-out, shaggy and pale, totally unable to emulate their languid glamour. She kept her gaze averted, trying to see what was going on without actually looking at anyone, overhearing snatches of conversation, walking around knots of people at an unthreatening distance. She paused at the end of one of the long buffet tables and saw Suleiman at the other, apparently patrolling as she was. Feeling a little more confident to see a friendly face, she made her way across the floor and joined him.

"Taking a walk, little one?" he greeted her.

"Just checking the room out. It's hard to see everything from the front." She gestured with her chin toward the dais, a mistake because it allowed her to see Joxer and Nebula, heads close together, discussing something. She quickly looked away and became interested in the wall.

Suleiman was not fooled. "Be calm, little one," he said. "The Queen does not bite. Badly."

"It's not that," Gabrielle said firmly. "It's... That thing with Khalil makes me nervous."

Suleiman nodded gravely. "It is serious," he said. "Khalil has much support behind him, and if Nebula goes ahead with her plan to bring one of the royal family up on charges..." He looked to the table as well, not hiding his concern. "I fear for not only her position, but for her life. We had best all tread warily."

Gabrielle nodded. "I'll stay back here for a while, listen to the gossip. See if I hear anything worth following up on."

"An excellent idea. Tell me what you find."

"Of course." Suleiman returned to the head of the room to take up his post once again by Nebula, and Gabrielle felt guilty for agreeing. She didn't particularly want to tell Suleiman what people were talking about, because most of them she'd overheard were talking about that man at the table with Nebula, and she had to stop herself several times from butting into conversations and setting some people straight about some things. Gods, Gabrielle thought. What a night. I hope to hell Nebula gives up and goes to bed soon, I need to...

She wasn't sure what she needed, actually, and then she turned around and Xena was there. "Okay," Xena said. "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired and my feet hurt and I need to sleep for about three days, I think."

"Okay. What's really wrong?"

Gabrielle took a deep breath. No point at all in trying to put anything over on Xena, not now, not ever. "That woman," she said.

"Nyosa?"

"No," she growled, irritated at being forced to spell it out, "the other one."

"What's wrong this time?"

"She's deliberately trying to drive me crazy." Gabrielle glared at the head table. "And it's working."

Xena followed her glance. "Ah. She's poaching on your territory."

"No," Gabrielle said loudly. "It's not that."

"If you say so."

"It's not. It's just that--" Gabrielle watched, and seethed. "She doesn't understand Joxer. Didn't she see how upset he was about Khalil's cousin? How can she ask him to just, just walk right up to him or whatever she intends to do, and..."

"Easy there," Xena said. "I don't like it either, and I'd much rather take care of that bastard myself. But it's Nebula's kingdom, and Nebula's laws. And she didn't pressure Joxer into anything he didn't want to do. He's a lot tougher than he looks, you know that."

"Yeah." Gabrielle folded her arms and leaned against the wall, watching him. "But I also know he's worth more than just some, some bargaining chip to push through a political point."

"So do I."

"But does she?"

Xena studied the scene on the dais. "I don't know," she said finally. "Nebula's always been very hard to read."

"What if she--" Gabrielle didn't finish the sentence because she wasn't sure what she was asking. Xena understood this. "Whatever it is," she answered, "we'll be able to take care of it. Don't worry on that part."

"Yeah," Gabrielle said again. Xena was right, of course. Nothing to worry about, but still she watched the table, and still she worried.

Joxer was feeling a little better now. He was good at shoving away things he didn't want to think about, and the ship captain was definitely in that category. Khalil and Nyosa hadn't made a move to approach the table again, and although he kept an eye on them they were far enough away for comfort. He was starting to relax, and once again the room was dazzling, the bright colors entrancing, and the people fascinating. He loved people-watching, and it seemed from his limited experience that at a court you spent almost all your time doing that. "Why did you leave all this?" he asked aloud.

"Mnh?" Nebula looked up from her drink.

"Why did you become a pirate? Why not stay here, with all this?"

Nebula nodded in Nyosa's direction. "To get away from that."

"To get away from Nyosa?"

"To get away from becoming Nyosa. Look at her."

Joxer looked, not sure what he was supposed to see. "She's very pretty," he said finally.

"And she's very intelligent and very ambitious. And what can she do with all that? Nothing. She's a woman." Nebula almost spat the last word. "She can't do anything for herself and if she wants anything she has to manipulate some man into getting it for her. I know Greece is no prize, I know there women and slaves don't count for much--but here in Sumeria they don't count at all. And I swore I wouldn't allow myself to be nothing, get married off at thirteen to Khalil or someone like him and spend my life being bred like a brood sow, I..." She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. "...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that."

"It's okay. I understand."

"No, you don't," Nebula said tiredly. She leaned her chin on her hand and gazed out over the room.

"Not exactly, no. But I know what it's like when everybody wants you to be something you can't be, and they don't leave you any choice."

Nebula didn't sit up, but she turned her head and looked at him. "You're an odd one, Joxer."

People kept telling him that and he wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not. "Thanks," Nebula added after a moment.

"I didn't do anything."

"You tried to understand. That's more than most people around here do. The one other great thing about being a pirate was it was a lot easier. You just hit people until they did what you wanted. Court, on the other hand--" She stood up and stretched the kinks out of her back. "Ah, I've had enough of this for tonight. I think I'll go back to my chambers, have a drink or two, and go to bed. Suleiman, let everyone know."

He nodded. "I'll send a guard."

Nebula looked at Joxer. "You up for a couple of games of dogs-and-jackals?"

"Sure."

"Then come with me. Don't worry, I'll have somebody walk you home afterwards."

"Very funny." Joxer stood up and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"I'd be delighted." Nebula took his elbow and led him back through the heavy curtain, leaving the bright room behind.

-7-

Gabrielle couldn't fall asleep. She was on dawn patrol and knew she needed to get up in a few hours, but for some reason knowing that made her even more tired and even less able to fall asleep. She tossed fretfully, unable to get comfortable, while vivid thoughts of the evening tramped through her mind and entangled with each other obnoxiously. They kept jerking her awake with imagined sounds, Nyosa laughing, Suleiman shouting about protecting the Queen, Xena lecturing about the proper way to wrap a Sumerian gown, Eve crying out softly for some unknown reason...

Gabrielle pushed herself up, blinking, still half-asleep. No, it wasn't a dream, she did hear that noise. She...It wasn't Eve, she realized. It wasn't coming from Xena's room.

It was Joxer.

She scrambled to her feet and stumbled, sleep-blinded, to his alcove, not knowing why. So he was talking in his sleep, so what? But something about his tone frightened her. It didn't sound like a normal dream, or even a normal nightmare.

It wasn't. He hadn't put out the lamps before he'd gone to sleep. In fact, he'd left several burning where one would have sufficed, and the multiple flames laid wild, flickering lights and shadows across the room. He was twisted up into a knot, clutching the shredded blanket in white-knuckled hands, and crying out again and again in a soft, steady moan half-choked back into his throat. "Joxer," she said aloud, ran to his side and grabbed his shoulder. "Joxer, wake--"

He screamed. It was a short, choked-off scream, but a scream nonetheless, and he threw himself away from her to crouch against the headboard, panting, eyes wild and glazed with fear. "Joxer!" Gabrielle yelped, almost as startled by his reaction as he'd been by her. "Joxer, it's me. Easy now."

It took him a few seconds to recognize her, a few more for his gaze to drop. "Gabrielle." He sucked in great gasps of air, as if he'd been running. "I'm sorry. Was having...a dream."

"Some dream." She reached for him, and he flinched away from her hand. She froze in mid-motion, not knowing what to do. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Joxer shook his head and sat up straight. Gabrielle sensed Xena enter the room almost noiselessly behind her, and Joxer looked up at Xena and something closed down in his face. "It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about."

"Are you su--" Gabrielle started to say, but Joxer looked at Xena again and said, "Nothing."

Gabrielle turned to look at Xena as well, saw the warrior nod almost in--approval? and turn and leave as silently as she'd entered. She turned back to Joxer, but he was looking away from her and had perceptibly folded in on himself. If she pushed him, she could find out what was wrong. If she pushed--but she didn't want to push, didn't want to hurt him. So many things she did hurt him without intention. She didn't want to add any more to the list through deliberate action. "Okay," she said quietly. Something flickered in his eyes when she spoke, but it was indecipherable. "Okay," she said and got to her feet. "See you in the morning." She paused at the door and looked back at him once more, to see if he'd changed his mind, but he was looking away from her, into the light of the lamps, somewhere she couldn't reach.

-----

Joxer heard the curtain fall behind Gabrielle, the soft rustle sending the same cold despair into his gut as if it were a dungeon door slamming into place. She was so distant lately. Friendly but distant, and it must be because she knew already what he'd done, what he'd been dreaming about. Would he have been as ashamed, he wondered, if it had worked? He pushed the thought out of his mind, but there it was again, its soft traitorous whisper in his head: he'd done that all for nothing, they'd been safe all along, and hadn't he been a fool for--

"No!" He spoke aloud, not meaning to, and feared for a moment someone would return but no one did. No. He'd had no choice. He couldn't have known, and he couldn't have not done what he did. Xena always said never second-guess yourself, never dwell on the past. Xena always said--Well, when Xena used to say things to him, anyway.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared into the lights of the lamps. No more falling asleep. He didn't want to fall asleep any more. Not tonight, anyway. Bad dreams could find their way back if you went back to sleep right away. Wait until tomorrow night, and then maybe they'd be gone. Maybe.

His head fell on his knees, and when he picked it back up again his neck was stiff and it was light outside. He remained still and quiet, listening for sounds in the apartments outside; when he was sure it was safe he got up, washed and dressed, and left to wander the palace grounds once more. A good walk would clear his head, and maybe he'd go out to the garden.

But the walk didn't seem to help much. He felt more exposed than usual today, felt the stares of the Sumerians on him as he aimlessly roamed the halls, heard the giggles and the whispers. He had gone back to wearing pants because he felt too uneasy in the dashikis, comfortable as they were, but only servants dressed the way he did. Servants... or slaves. Or Gabrielle, he told himself firmly, or Gabrielle, who wore the same kind of shirt and a short leather skirt, and nobody laughed at her because she was Gabrielle, a Queen in her own right and so sure of herself and her place in the world. But him they stared at, him they laughed about, the pale, softskinned foreigner whom Hassim had--

He shoved the thought away, and his steps quickened, almost into a run. He wanted--well, he didn't know what he wanted, but he did know it had nothing to do with remembering about Hassim. Maybe if he--

"Good morning, softskin. And how are you today?"

Joxer yelped aloud, instantly ashamed of himself for being so startled. He hadn't heard anyone come up behind him, he hadn't smelled the musk and spice that suddenly invaded his lungs and made his head spin. He turned to face the dark vision, and had for a moment a feeling almost of glimpsing a goddess, that instant reaction of danger and dark fear--"Ny.. Lady Nyosa," he stammered. "Good morning."

Nysoa smiled. She wore a dark overwrap with subtle stains of rust and ultramarine worked into it, a dying procedure that Joxer already recognized as being highly regarded and very expensive. She wore a collar of polished jet and the same clanked in bangles along her arms, and it was as if she was sucking all the light out of the hall just by standing there. All the light out of the hall, and all the air out of him. He instinctively took a step away, and his back pressed up against the wall. "Softskin," she said and pulled a theatrical pout. "You've been avoiding me."

"No. No, I haven't, I..."

"Oh, I've been so wishing to get to know you better, too." Nyosa took another step closer, and Joxer tried to retreat, but there was nowhere to go. "I've heard so much about you...from Hassim." He saw the pleasure in her eyes as he flinched at the name, and for a moment he was frozen, unable to move. Get up, his mind raged at him, she's not going to attack, she isn't a bacchae, for gods' sakes, just step aside and walk away! and yet he remained pinned by her gaze, by that look of pleasure in her eyes at his pain, that look that was so much like--

"Nyosa!" It was a short, sharp snarl, and even Nyosa looked up to see Nebula bearing down on them, looking like she was in one of Xena's own bad moods. "Leave him alone! Go play with one of your own pets if you want to pull one of your stupid games."

Nysoa stepped back, but her expression was unfazed. "I'm sorry," she said blandly. "I didn't know this one was taken."

"Go on, get off," Nebula snapped, and even Nyosa was unable to put up a pretense of objection any longer. She turned and walked off without a word. Joxer found himself able to breathe again, which after a few ragged gasps he decided was a good thing. "Take my advice, studmuffin," Nebula said. "Stay away from that, you don't know where it's been--Hey, you okay there?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine." She took his arm and pulled him to a door, nodding at the flanking Guard who pulled it open and allowed the Queen to pass. The room was cavernous, filled with scrolls and bright with lamps lit on braziers set by the tables in the middle of the room, the flames safely away from the parchment. "Come on, sit down," she said, pushing him into a chair. "Tell Aunt Nebula what's wrong."

"Nothing." Joxer couldn't seem to catch his breath. "Nothing, I just..." Nebula didn't press him, and he found himself saying, "I didn't sleep well last night, I was having a lot of, y'know, dreams, and I was going for a walk and..." He pulled himself up short.

Nebula hissed. "What did she say to you?" He didn't answer, and she sighed, an anger behind it that was not directed at him. "Jox, listen." He looked up, a little surprised--only Xena ever called him that--and saw Nebula was looking at him not with annoyance or pity, but with genuine compassion. "I know the kinds of things Nyosa and her circle get up to. Not so much Khalil, but Nyosa, Rasheeda...Hassim." She touched his shoulder gently as he flinched at the name. "They're useless. They like to hurt people, it's the only thing that ever brings them pleasure. Don't let them play their games with you, and just walk away from them if they try. You're my guest, you've got a right to be here, and if I had my way they wouldn't. And they know it, too. So don't worry about them. They can't do anything to you. You got that?"

Joxer listened to her words, the ones she spoke, the ones she didn't, and found no recrimination behind them. No shame. With Nebula, there was no shame. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Thanks."

He had a feeling she listened to what he said in the same way. "No problem." She cuffed him affectionately on the shoulder. "What are you up to this morning?"

"I... don't know. Was just going to walk, I guess."

"You know what I think you'd like? Why don't you go upstairs in the gallery of the Great Hall and watch the Council session? You see these people around here as they really are, squabbling like a bunch of idiots, and you'll have a much easier time sneering at them the way they deserve." Her laugh was merry. "And come downstairs after the session's over and into the Hall. I'll invite you in to lunch."

"Sounds good." Joxer stood up. His breathing seemed to have returned to normal, and whatever it was that had been threatening him a few moments ago had backed off. "Xena'll kill you she sees you walking around without an escort."

"'Xena will'," Nebula mimicked back at him. "Not 'Suleiman will', eh? Well, first of all, screw Xena." She elbowed him in the ribs. "It might get her to loosen up a bit, anyway."

"Hey!" Joxer was unable to hide the laugh behind the protest.

"And second of all, screw Xena twice, 'cause I do have an escort." She linked her arm through his. "Onward. To the Hall."

"To the Hall," Joxer agreed cheerfully. To the Hall, away from Nyosa, away from the dreams. Worked for him.

-8-

THE SPECTRE of Hassim hung over everything for a few days. Suleiman reported from his sources that after the ship had docked Hassim had gone out into the countryside to check up on his estates, and while it was common knowledge that Nebula intended to have him brought to trial most of the Court thought she was bluffing. The real test would be whether or not Khalil believed it, and what information he would convey to his cousin. "Either he'll show," Nebula said to Joxer, "and we'll nail him, or he'll leave the country to avoid us, and we'll be rid of him. Either way you won't have to worry about him any more."

"I'm not worried," Joxer said loudly. Everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around the subject, Nebula and Xena and Suleiman alike. He could swear even Eve was looking at him funny lately, and it wasn't like he was going to shrivel up and die just because Hassim might or might not be around or something. Honestly. "Your move," he said.

"Ha." Nebula shook the dice, rolled them, looked at the throw, and shook her head. "Have I told you lately how much I hate you?"

"Yes," Joxer said cheerfully, marking the score on the ivory pegboard.

He spent a great deal of time with Nebula, mostly at night after the business of the day was concluded, playing dogs-and-jackals or stones, talking about politics, drinking and telling dirty jokes, or any of a myriad other things Nebula might think of to do. She'd always been a gregarious person, but it seemed that at court she had no friends that she could just hang around and have fun with, and it was sad. He was careful to hide that he thought this because he suspected she wouldn't appreciate it. Maybe once the whole woman situation thing was cleared up she could have buddies again, and maybe invite Morrigan for a visit or something.

Of course, then he'd have absolutely nothing to do. Xena and Gab were busy with their duties, and although he still wanted to talk to Xena about some things she was doubly busy taking care of Eve and all. And Gabrielle, well... If everyone else was treating him like he was Chin porcelain, Gabrielle wasn't treating him at all. He kept catching her looking at him, but she never said anything directly, and something was wrong, and he didn't know if it was something he was doing or what. But it never seemed to be the right time to ask her, and she always seemed to be coming when he was going and vice versa, and they kept looking at each other and exchanging vapid pleasantries, and the tension was practically making him scream. But at night he could come here and talk with Nebula, and forget about it for a little while. Just like she was forgetting about the Court and everything and just kicking back and relaxing. It worked out well for both of them, he decided, so where was the harm?

Well, maybe once this whole thing with Hassim was over everyone could relax for a while. If there was anything that Joxer knew it was that life around Xena and Gab was one crisis after another, and all he had to do was wait them out. The lulls in between the storms were more than worth it. He rolled the dice and they came up perfect. "There," he said, pleased. "It all comes out right in the end."

-----

Gabrielle sat on the bench in the training arena and wondered if Suleiman would mind if she threw a temper tantrum, and if she cared that he minded at all.

"Very good work this morning, little one," Suleiman said. He was wiping off that damned sword, that sword which had become the be-all and end-all of her existence. She thought about the sword when she went to sleep at night and was still thinking about it when she rose in the morning. She dreamed about it in between, and during the day every sword she saw on every guard or nobleman reminded her of it. I will find some way to defeat that sword or I will die trying, she swore to herself, and it did not occur to her that anything about this statement might be funny.

But another training session, another failure. "You're improving greatly," said Suleiman as if to rub it in. "You are much quicker and much more aware, and you may have the potential to be as great a warrior as Nebula or Xena herself some day."

Gabrielle forced a gracious smile; while Suleiman never looked down on people for lack of ability, he very rarely praised anyone either. "Thank you," she said. "I owe it to your training."

"You owe it to yourself, little one. To your own heart and your own spirit. Never forget that." Suleiman looked up. "Ah, what's this?"

A small boy raced across the sands of the arena. "Papa!" he called. In one easy motion Suleiman sheathed the sword and caught the boy up in his arms, laughing. "Aren't we the enthusiastic one today?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Hi, Kwame."

"Hello, guard Gabrielle," the boy said politely. "Papa, papa, I was hunting rabbits and I almost caught one with my hands. It was like this." He indicated a rabbit the size of a small sheep. "And there were pretty butterflies and I tried to catch one for Mama, but they flew away. Come and see where the butterflies were."

Suleiman laughed again. "Ah, see, Gabrielle? No matter how I try to civilize the boy he is still turning into a Sumerian nobleman. Giving orders to his poor old father at such an age." He set the boy on his shoulders. "It appears that I must go and look for butterflies."

"Go ahead," Gabrielle said. "I wanted the chance to do some solo work in any case. Thank you for the workout. Kwame, be careful of those rabbits. They can be really mean."

"Hah," said Kwame. "Silly guard Gabrielle, rabbits are not dangerous, and I'm a fierce warrior just like Papa, aren't I, Papa?"'

"Not yet, but you will be." Suleiman waved goodbye to Gabrielle, and Kwame twisted around and waved as well. Gabrielle returned the farewell and watched them leave, taking their momentary bad mood with her. She wondered what Eve would be like at that age, if she would be that cheerful and that curious about the world. I hope so, she thought. I hope so. If we can only find a safe place for her to get to that age...

Shaking that thought out of her head as well, she returned to thoughts of the sword. What she needed was someone to practice on, darn it. She ducked around a phantom strike, visualizing Suleiman in front of her--and even in her imagination, he was one step ahead of her all the time. Damn and double damn. Okay, what if she blocked with the right sai here and brought the left one around--no, that wouldn't work. Okay, if she feinted down and to the left--no, her head just got cut off. Okay, if she ducked low and came around in an entire circle, sweeping up with the sai, she should be able to come up with the point right under Joxer's chin--

"Joxer!" she yelped. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry!" He backed off, hands held up appeasingly. "I didn't want to startle you. Sorry--mpfh!" The burnoose he was wearing about his head and shoulders to keep off the sun fell over his face, and he shook himself free of it. "Darn it. I still don't know how to work this thing."

"You have to throw the longer piece over your shoulder, like this." Gabrielle quickly put away the sai--having pointy objects waving around when Joxer was about was generally not a good idea--and took the cloth and readjusted it. "Hold still--there." Satisfied, she stepped back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Nebula wanted Xena down in Court with her for some debate before the public audience this afternoon, so Xena said I should come let you know she'll just be going straight there afterwards." Having delivered this message all in one breath, Joxer seemed to run out of things to say and looked around the training arena for some topic of conversation. "Uh, I saw you working out. You looked good."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome."

"Oh...sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I'm trying to figure out this maneuver, and..." She snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute. Joxer, can you help me out?"

"Uh....sure. Be glad to."

"Good. Stand right there." She placed him carefully in front of her. "Move your foot a little bit...There. Now." She stepped back and drew her sai. "I want you to pull your sword and come at me with an overhead sweep from the side, and..." It took her a minute to realize how bad the mistake was. "You don't have your sword, do you?"

The look on his face told her the mistake was even worse than she'd first thought. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't realize...Well, come with me. We'll get Suleiman or Xena to take you down to the armory and..."

"No."

"I mean, I'm sure if you talk to Xena she can..."

"No!" Joxer backed off a couple of steps, like a nervous horse. "Listen, I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet Nebula for lunch, and...I gotta go." He turned to leave.

Gabrielle wondered if she should let him go. He was obviously upset, but then on the other hand she might make things worse, but then on the other hand it wasn't like it normally was, was it? Not like it normally is, something in her mind said bitterly, well, whose fault is that? Who's avoiding who? No, she shouldn't let him go. Definitely not.

"Joxer!" she called. "Wait!"

But he was already gone. Gabrielle cursed and tried to return to her training, but try as she might for a long time she could not get the image of the sword into her head.

-9-

The man was a kinsman of Suleiman's, and he was dull. He was so dull, and he had been talking for so long, that Xena thought she might fall asleep--or throw the chakram into his throat. Either way, he was immensely dull, and he would not shut up.

Xena shifted uncomfortably in her seat, carefully so as not to wake Eve who was sleeping happily in her carrysack against her mother's back. The child seemed able to sleep anywhere, at any time, at a moment's notice. Xena envied her thoroughly. She fidgeted again--at least Nebula had allowed her to sit on a bench by the throne rather than stand beside it as was customary--and tried to look interested. She knew it wasn't working. This wasn't a debate, it was a monologue.

Suleiman's kinsman changed the subject of his drone from fishing rights to road conditions between two obscure villages without missing a beat or bothering to provide even the slightest justification for the change in subject. He'd done this several times in the past couple of hours, and each time he somehow managed to change to a topic even more boring than the previous one. That's it, Xena thought, chakram time, and she was almost serious, but then Nebula held up her right hand in a ritual gesture. "Enough," she said and the man fell obediently silent in the middle of a sentence. "We must leave now to prepare for Our audience," she said. "Court is dismissed."

The men rose to their feet and shuffled out of the Great Hall, mumbling among themselves. Xena idly wondered if any of them would fall on the orator and thrash him soundly, because that's what sensible people would do. But the Sumerian nobility was not composed of sensible people, apparently, as the man left the hall with all the others without incident. Nebula dismissed the other guards with an imperious wave, and did not speak until she and Xena were alone. "That did not please Us," she said in the imperious tone, not bothering to hide the half-mockery she always underlied it with. "If it was not for the fact that the gentleman was a member of Our friend's family, We would have told him to shut the fuck up hours ago."

"Just what the hell was that all about?" Xena asked.

"It's called a filibuster."

They both jumped at the voice, muffled as it was. Xena looked up into the spectators' gallery and saw Joxer leaning over the rail, looking down at them. "It's a technique where somebody just keeps talking in order to keep the opposition from saying anything else. They don't use it in Athens any more because it pisses the Assembly off so much that they'll cast an ostracism on anybody who tries it."

Xena swore to herself. How could she have missed anyone up there? Especially Joxer, to whom she was almost as attuned as she was to Gabrielle. She studied the gallery carefully. Yes, the dark heavy draperies were meant to muffle noise, but she still should have been aware of the movement. "Evie, honey," she muttered, "Mummy's getting soft."

"What?" Joxer leaned over the rail, dangerously far for a man of his lack of balance.

"For pity's sake," Xena snapped, irritated, "get down here where we can hear you." Joxer nodded obediently and backed off from his precarious position, disappearing into the darkness at the back of the gallery. It would probably take him two or three minutes of flailing around just to find an exit through the curtains, and then he had to make his way to the front staircase and into the hall. Xena suppressed another exasperated curse. She wanted to feed and change Eve and then go lie down, now, and the extra few minutes stretched before her like empty hours. It was amazing how annoying Joxer could still be when he wasn't even trying.

"Cast an ostracism on them," Nebula mused. "Pretty good idea. An ostracism, or maybe just a very large rock."

"I'm for the rock myself."

"I don't want to rule like that," Nebula said seriously. "That's exactly the kind of attitude I'm trying to change. I could easily go with tradition, just give the commands, expect them to be followed, and..." she snapped her fingers... "they would be."

"I remember when I could do that," Xena said and glared in the general direction of the staircase. In the old days she could pin Joxer to the wall at forty feet with one of those glares. He was getting way too full of himself these days.

Or had been, anyway. After what happened--Xena pulled her mind away from the subject once again, like a stupid young horse. The mind is a wild horse, Lao Ma had said, and you must treat it with patience and forbearance. She had to treat Joxer the same way. If she let herself be soft around him, he'd never get back on his own two feet. He had to face this and get over it himself. Warriors usually did. Usually.

Eve made a small complaining noise. "Don't talk back," Xena told her absently. No, the glare hadn't worked at all. Joxer came trotting up to her, trying to look respectfully submissive and failing miserably, so obviously pleased with himself that he'd put one over on her she was going to have to set him straight...later. Yes, he would get over it. Joxer wasn't very deep. "Okay," she said. "What did you hear?"

"Only the end of it," he admitted. "I went to give Gabrielle your message and I just got back."

"What did you think?" Nebula asked him. She sounded like she seriously wanted to know; Xena looked at her, surprised.

"Well, whatever it is you wanted to talk about, they didn't want to let you. That's what the filibuster is supposed to do, keep the opposition from getting a word in edgewise."

"It works," Xena said dryly.

"Which is why they banned it. Athenians don't like it when people won't let them talk."

"Neither do I," said Nebula.

"They're giving you a hard time is what it is."

"Trying to," Nebula said cheerfully. "But I never let 'em see me sweat. It drives them crazy."

"You could ban the filibuster. Or you could turn it against them, if you have someone to do it for you."

"How about you?"

"Me?"

"Him?" Xena said almost at the same time.

"It's a thought. I couldn't annoy them with any particular topic of a talk--but allowing a foreigner, and an ex-slave at that, to lecture them would thoroughly piss them off. As well as reiterating just exactly who's in charge here."

And just who was that, anyway? Xena unconsciously drummed her fingertips against the chakram at her side. She'd seen Nebula asking Joxer for input at the public audiences, but Nebula often asked Suleiman or Gabrielle or Xena herself the same kinds of questions. This was different--serious political matters, and not only asking Joxer for advice but involving him directly? Again things were happening right before her eyes without her realizing it, and she didn't like it. Not at all.

Eve began to fidget, mewling querulously. "Aw," said Joxer. "Is she all right?"

"Of course she's all right, Joxer, don't be ridiculous."

"She just usually doesn't fuss is all."

She didn't. Xena shifted the carrysack around off her shoulders and took Eve into her arms. The baby hiccuped and looked at her mother, her tiny brow furrowed as if she was worried over something. "She just needs to eat," Xena said.

"As do we all." Nebula clapped Joxer on the shoulder. "Come on, studmuffin, let's grab a bite before I have to get into that damned getup and go sit on the steps for three hours. Xena, do you want to come with us?"

"No. I'm going to take Eve back to my room and put her down for a little nap before the audience. Might take one myself."

"Okay. See you then." Nebula walked off with Joxer, and the two of them fell to talking animatedly about the Court almost instantly, Xena forgotten.

Xena watched them go. No, she didn't like this. Not at all. She cradled her daughter close to her chest, and Eve's tiny frown mimicked her own.

-10-

GABRIELLE AWOKE with a jerk.

She pushed herself up groggily, her body slow to respond, her mind slower and still half-caught in upsetting unremembered dreams. Joxer backed off quickly, pulling his hand away from her shoulder as if he had burned it. "Sorry," he said quickly. "Sorry, I..."

"No, 'sokay. I must have dozed off." The end of the sentence dissolved in a huge yawn, and she sat up on the chaise in the main apartment where she'd fallen asleep. The only light in the room came from the moonlight-flooded courtyard. Gods, what time was it? She tried to speak and yawned again.

"Are you all right?" Joxer asked. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"No problem." Gabrielle tried to shake the muzziness out of her head. "I must have been really zonked."

"Hard day?"

"Kind of." Okay, he'd handed her the perfect opening. It was now or never. She took a deep breath and said, "I was waiting up for you. I wanted to apologize. For what I said this morning, I..."

"It was nothing. Forget it."

"No, I.. I wasn't thinking. I know how much that scabbard meant to you, and I'm sorry."

Joxer looked at the floor. "It's not just the scabbard. It's the whole thing, it's the sword itself, I--Forget about it, there's nothing anyone can do."

"Joxer, talk to me."

"I saw you fighting today," he said obliquely. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

He sighed. "Gabrielle, I told you my father gave me the scabbard. It's the only thing he gave me. Everything else I had to earn myself. And I earned that sword. It took me years, years to become good enough, but in the end I did it. I know it wasn't a good sword, but it was mine. It meant something. It meant that just once, I accomplished something. And now..."

"You still accomplished it. That's what's important. Not the sword itself."

He looked away. "I was watching you today. You were so beautiful. The way you move, the way you block, the way you strike. I could never achieve that if I had a dozen lifetimes to work on it. See, now somebody like you, you can go up to Xena or somebody and say, 'I need a new sword' and there's no question. But me--"

"You can go to Xena. You don't have to prove anything to her. She knows who you are."

"Yeah. The guy who couldn't even hang on to what little he had."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous. I'm being realistic. I mean, look at me, Gabrielle." He spread his arms wide. "Look at me. I'm no real warrior. I never have been. No matter how hard I've tried..."

"Joxer..." Gabrielle got up, and as she rose he backed away.

"Nobody like Xena is going to stand for somebody like me following her around. I lost my sword, Gabrielle. Even worse, I gave it up. No real warrior would do something like that--and no real warrior like Xena would ever respect anybody who did."

"Joxer, Xena's your friend."

"She's my leader," he said, "and I shamed her." He turned and walked to the main door.

"Gods, Joxer," Gabrielle said, "nobody is ashamed of you."

Joxer paused, his hand on the door. "I am," he said softly, "and I guess that's enough." He slipped silently out into the hall before Gabrielle could protest further, and was gone.

-----

Joxer was running. He was walking, but he knew he was running. Running from Xena, running from Gabrielle, running from his own mind and heart and soul that wouldn't listen to him but kept going their own way, and dragging him along behind, and laughing. He was running, and he couldn't even be ashamed that he was running. There was far too much shame in him already.

He went, not for the garden, but straight back to Nebula's apartments. He didn't know why. He needed the lights and pleasantries and easygoing laughter, but Nebula had said she was going to turn in and he shouldn't go back and disturb her, but he headed back anyway. The Guard did not even bother to acknowledge him walking up to her door. He was so beneath their notice he could come and go to the Queen's apartments as he pleased, even when she was probably sleeping and he shouldn't knock on her door, but he did. He waited, not expecting anything to happen, wondering where he would run to next.

And the door opened.

Nebula took one look at his face, stepped aside, and allowed him to enter. She shut the door and latched it behind him, while Joxer tried to think of something to say and realized he didn't have the faintest idea what. What was he gonna tell her? He was running away like a coward and came to hide here? What would she--Nebula turned to him, her expression odd. "Nebula..." he started to say.

"It's about fucking time," she said, and grabbed him and kissed him, hard. Before he had fully realized what was happening her body was pressed against his, her tongue sliding deep into his mouth, and he was instinctively pulling her closer against him, into him. Nebula broke off the kiss but continued to cling to him, and her eyes were drawing him in. "I thought you'd never come around."

Joxer started to speak again. This wasn't what he wanted, it wasn't--

No. He felt the surge of power in his hips and cock, sheer desire unadulterated by thought or shame or fear. He returned Nebula's kiss, aggressively invading her mouth, and she groaned deep in her throat. "Yesss," she sighed as he released her. "Yes, that's it. You come to ol' Nebula, and she'll make you feel good. Believe it." Her hands were already sliding down his belly, her mouth following. "You just forget about everything else for a while, you hear?"

Joxer tangled his hands in her hair, allowing himself to moan, not to hold back, not to have second thoughts. He'd been wrong. This was what he wanted.

Not to have to think.

-----

When Gabrielle awoke the next morning, Joxer still hadn't returned.

She knew because she pulled back the curtain and checked his bed, and not only was he not in it but it hadn't been slept in at all. Joxer tended to sprawl all over the place when he slept, leading to half-asleep late-night arguments over fur possession and personal space when they camped outside, but the multi-colored blankets on the bed were still carefully layered in a neat pile. She still held out some hope that perhaps he had for some strange Joxer-reason gotten up early and decided to make the bed before he left, but this was grasping at straws and she knew it. She let the curtain fall and heard Xena enter the room behind her.

"Joxer, uh, left early," she said, not quite turning around.

"I see," Xena said and that was all. She walked to the sideboard, carrying Eve on her hip. "The servants have been here. Shall we eat in the garden this morning?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I see," Xena said again. Holding Eve in one arm, she lifted a platter in the other. "Come and sit outside a while in any case. It's a nice morning."

It was. Xena placed the platter on a stone table and sat at one of the stone benches beside it, the whole expertly crafted to look as if it was a natural outcropping of the rock and sand. The fountain was large and clear, and even had a small pool formed at its base where colorful fish could occasionally be seen to dart near the surface and away again. Gabrielle privately thought that their garden was the finest in the palace, save only for the huge maze-like hanging garden at the very center of the complex, and Nebula's private garden, which had a genuine waterfall and a pool big enough to swim in. She meditated in the garden, and often just being in it was enough to put her mind at ease. Not this morning, though.

Xena checked the contents of a bowl. "Farmers' cheese," she said, surprised. "Fresh. You sure you're not hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Gabrielle turned away from the garden view so that she could see into the cool dim recesses of the apartments, and think. Once she was ready to allow herself to think.

"Mwahh," said Eve. "Mwahh," she said again, more demanding, and Gabrielle looked around to see the baby holding a fig at arms' length, waving it at her. "Mwaah."

"She wants you to eat," Xena said.

Gabrielle forced a smile, and took the fig from Eve's hand. "Okay. I'll eat this one because you gave it to me, all right?"

"Mwah." Eve looked satisfied, and watched until Gabrielle actually put the fig in her mouth and started chewing. She loved Sumerian figs. They had an odd, rich flavor no others seemed to have. This one was like parchment in her mouth.

Xena looked out over the garden, cuddled Eve and cooed baby-talk to her, exclaimed with her daughter over the bright bird-sized butterflies flitting around the flowering vines. "Do you want to talk about it?" she said without looking at Gabrielle.

"Not right now."

"Let me know." She reached over and squeezed Gabrielle's hand. Gabrielle smiled in gratitude, and forced down another fig. A warrior had to keep her strength up, Xena always said.

A warrior. Yeah.

-11-

JOXER SAT on the steps in the blazing Sumerian sun, peering out into the brightly-lit plaza from under the cool dark flap of the burnoose. The crowds attending the audience milled about and spoke among themselves, while one by one the petitioners came up to the foot of the stairs and spoke to Suleiman, who then stood aside and allowed them to proceed to Nebula's throne. He watched it all today as if it was very far away, a picture on the side of a red-figure vase. He couldn't seem to concentrate on the farmer who'd lost his last cattle to lions, the second wife who had been passed over so that the third could receive preferential treatment, the merchant whose ship had been sunk in the harbor by sabotage. He was conscious only of the heat, the sun and the smell of the sea blowing in off the harbor, of the solidity of the stone underneath him and the brightness of the sky above. He was sitting on the step next to Nebula's throne, and he was very aware of her presence, her spicy scent, her deep rich voice, and the surprising gentle laugh with which she greeted each petitioner. And standing behind Nebula's throne and just in back of him was Gabrielle, and he was very aware of her presence, her smell of leather and sweat and chamomile, her slightly shifting movements, and her silence. Especially her silence. He didn't know what to say to her about the previous evening, if he should ignore it or apologize for it or thank her for it, and so he said nothing. And he sensed her holding back in the same fashion, and he couldn't concentrate on the petitioners. All was sun, and heat, and sea-soaked breeze, and Nebula, and Gabrielle.

He concentrated on picking out faces in the crowd. He still couldn't put names to a lot of them, but he could pick out the members of the higher-ranked families that stood to the front of the plaza and just off to the sides of the dais. There was Khalil, standing as close to the steps and with the same arrogance as if he were atop them, and nearby were some of Suleiman's kinfolk--the House of the Leopard, recognizable if nothing else by the grim solemn faces they always wore in contrast to the head of the Guard's easygoing manner. And those over there with the silver neckpieces were perhaps House of the Bull, if his theory was correct. He'd realized that the members of the different Houses always wore some identifying piece of clothing or ornament, but it was always something subtle; a single silver bangle amidst an armful of gold ones, like the Goat House wore, or the red edging on the wraps of the Fox House. The House of the Lion wore the trademark saffron, and when Joxer had asked Nebula about it she'd said only the monarch was allowed to wear the gold ornamentation along with the robes--but Khalil wore so much gold on his wrists and neck, glinting against his dark skin, that Joxer wondered how he could stand up straight. There were more and more members of the noble families attending the public audiences nowadays, and when Joxer had asked Xena what she'd thought of that she'd given him one of those strange looks and asked him how he knew. He'd explained about the badges of the different Houses and she'd given him another strange look, said "You're a very odd person, Joxer," and walked away. So he wasn't sure if he was in trouble with her or not, but then he never could tell with Xena.

The sun continued its slow progress across the sky, and it was nearing mid-afternoon. Nebula raised her hand in the formal silence gesture after the last petitioner left, and recited, "We will retire now, and return on the morrow, unless there is one who has something that will not wait until the sunrise." Nobody said anything to this ritual speech because no one ever did, and Nebula lowered her hand. And someone called out from the crowd, clearly and firmly, "Wait."

The crowd parted, murmuring about itself, and allowed a man to walk up to the base of the steps. He was with a beautiful woman--Nyosa!--and was wearing the same saffron and gold as Khalil. Joxer quickly glanced at Khalil, to make sure he wasn't imagining that there was someone else with the same nerve as to dress in the monarch's colors--and wished he hadn't. Khalil was looking, not at the man, but at Nyosa on his arm, and Joxer winced and turned away in sympathy at the look on Khalil's face. He hated it when things like that happened. So he looked down.

He didn't need to look at the man. He knew who he was.

The crowd was almost silent. The man walked arrogantly up to Suleiman, and said, "I am the Queen's cousin Hassim, and I wish to speak to her." He couldn't see Suleiman's face, but could hear the disdain in his voice as he said "Pass" and stepped aside. Hassim mounted the steps slowly, Nyosa keeping step with him, and he was smiling the whole time and his eyes were fixed on Nebula. Joxer saw Nebula watching the man's every movement, and behind him heard Gabrielle suck in a breath, a small unconscious gesture she made when faced with an enemy, and sensed her tensing as if she would explode. Joxer himself couldn't do anything. The sight of Hassim and the all-too-familiar sound of his voice raked cold claws up and down Joxer's spine and he could no longer move at all.

Hassim stopped in front of the throne, just far enough back so as not to violate the sacred space around the monarch, just far enough forward to make his disdain all the more evident. "Cousin," he said.

"Cousin," Nebula greeted him.

"Nyosa tells me that you retrieved my lost slave for me." He patted Nyosa's arm, then looked directly at Joxer. Joxer realized too late he was sitting at Nebula's feet, not standing on his own, and that he couldn't be at more of a disadvantage if he'd tried. "I thank you, cousin. I can get a good price for this one. The novelty factor, you know--or perhaps I'll keep it for myself." He turned an innocent look on Nebula. "Unless the Queen has already decided to do the same?"

"You admit this is your slave?" Nebula's voice had sharp steel in it, like one of the Sumerian blades.

"I do."

"And where did you get it from?"

"I picked it up in Egypt. Marvelous shopping there, in Egypt."

"And how did you transport it here?"

"Upon a ship, of course, cousin." Hassim smiled. "How else would I get it here? Cause it to fly?"

"Hassim of the House of the Lion," Nebula said and it wasn't steel in her voice after all, but the roar of the lion. "It is against Our law to use slave labor upon ships, or to transport slaves upon same, and yet you admit to this crime against Our desire?"

"I do."

The crowd--especially the nobles in their groups at the side--was silent. Joxer wasn't aware if he was breathing or not. Hassim was pinned, by Nebula's gaze, by Xena's, by Gab's, and yet he gave no evidence he cared for any of it. Nebula stood.

"For violating Our laws and circumventing Our desires, We hereby order you placed under arrest. Sentence will be delivered in open Court with all Houses present on the third day hence. Guard Suleiman," she said, "take this man away."

Suleiman started up the steps--and hesitated. He couldn't do it, Joxer realized--he couldn't lay his hands on a member of the royal family, the taboo was too ingrained. Nebula spoke again, and her voice was as scary as Xena's. "Guard Suleiman, do you disobey Our order?"

Suleiman shook his head slightly, as if he'd been asleep those few moments. "I...No, my Queen. I hear and obey." He came up the steps, took Nyosa's hand from Hassim's arm, then marched Hassim down off the steps and to the side of the plaza, where the building housing the main entrance to the dungeons was. The crowd parted as they went by, and the murmuring started. It started low, like the waves on the beach, and grew louder, surf pounding upon the sand. And through it all Hassim walked as if he was being led to a throne himself, his mien arrogant and triumphant, Nyosa following two steps behind the entire way, her smile a frightening thing. The entire procession passed Khalil, and Nyosa took no notice of him, and that look was on Khalil's face again, and Joxer wished he hadn't seen it. And Nebula stood up and said, "We now dismiss you, our people," and turned and walked back into the doors of the palace, the Guard falling in behind her, and the crowd did not disperse but grew larger and louder and the waves pounding--

"Joxer!" He shook his head, realizing this was the third or fourth summons, realizing he'd missed the first ones. "Joxer, come on, get up." Gabrielle grabbed him by one arm and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, we--" She hustled him ahead of her into the palace, the two of them the last ones inside before the large doors swung shut. Instead of following the group she brought him around and leaned him against the wall. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Joxer took a deep breath and another, great gulps of cool palace air, before he could answer. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think I got a little too much sun, is all."

"Are you sure?" Gabrielle laid the back of her hand against his cheek, and he knew she wasn't fooled. He also knew he couldn't admit it. Instead he nodded.

She pulled back a little, leaving him his dignity. "You should go back, get some water, and lie down until it wears off. I'll come by and look in on you later."

"I will," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Thanks."

She remained by him for a moment, then patted his shoulder awkwardly and left in the same direction Nebula and the rest of the Guard had gone. Joxer remained slumped against the wall a few more minutes, then started the long, slow trek back to their apartments. The sun still shone outside, and it pressed in through every window and every roofvent as if it wished to crush the entire palace under its glare.

-12-

Suleiman returned to Nebula's chambers, where she and Xena and Gabrielle had been discussing trivia, and he said, "Hassim is secured. His family will want to bring him things, of course."

"Allow it," said Nebula.

Suleiman frowned. "The people will..."

"The point is to treat everyone equally under the law, noble and commoner alike. Any prisoner is allowed to receive food and clothing from their families. That goes for Hassim too."

"Yes," said Xena dryly. "He'll be hip-deep in silks and fresh fruit before you know it. Such a punishment."

And it was at that point that Gabrielle had to get up and leave. She went out into the hall and closed the door behind her, and started pacing up and down. Up and down, short, sharp steps, the echoes ringing in the empty marble hallway like the snap of so many bowstrings. Hassim was sitting in a dungeon in the lap of luxury. Hassim. That man. She tried to calm herself , bringing to mind Xena saying , "Take deep breaths and focus", Eli saying, "Hatred out, peace in," Suleiman saying, "Put all emotion out of your head and concentrate only on the battle".

She couldn't do it.

All she could think about was Hassim. That man who had the temerity to waltz right up to Nebula in public with that spitting cobra on his arm. That man who had the nerve to treat them all as if they were so much dust beneath his feet. That man who had laid his hands on Joxer, chained him and--She didn't want to focus. She didn't want peace. She didn't want to put it all out of her head. She wanted Hassim's throat under her fingers, and she wanted it now.

Xena slipped silently out into the hall behind her. Without turning around, Gabrielle said, "Leave me alone, Xena."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'll be back inside in a minute."

"You're too worked up."

"Don't tell me how worked up I am. Leave me alone."

"How's Joxer?"

"He's fine. He said he had a touch of sun and was going to lie down."

"Perhaps you should go look in on him."

"He's fine. I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"Perhaps," Xena said in a harder tone, "you should go look in on him and then come back here once you're calmed down."

Gabrielle stopped pacing and turned to face Xena. "Are you ordering me to--"

"I'm ordering you to go away until you cool off. The situation's delicate enough without anyone blowing their top. I'm angry too," she said over Gabrielle's protests, "but I'm holding it for later. Can you do the same?"

Gabrielle took a deep breath to protest, but Xena was looking right through her. As usual. She blew out the breath in a sigh. "I'll just be a few minutes. I'll be fine once I take a little walk, or... something."

"Atta girl." Xena smiled. "I'll see you in a bit, then." She turned and went back into Nebula's chambers, leaving Gabrielle alone in the hall.

For a moment Gabrielle pretended she was considering a walk around the parapets of the castle, or in the hanging gardens, or out to the practice arena to run through some moves. Then she gave in to the inevitable and headed for the apartments.

-----

Joxer was back in Egypt. He was looking for Sumerians, and he'd found some, and he didn't like them. Not at all. This man, this Hassim, the way he smiled and the way he spoke and the way he looked Joxer up and down like he was appraising a horse made him intensely nervous, and something in the back of his head said: Not this one. Find another. But he needed to get to Sumeria as quickly as possible, and he needed to find someone who would take him there, and this guy was obviously ready to close the trap. All he had to do was make sure it closed firmly around himself, and he'd be on his way.

"Have a drink," said Hassim. He pushed a mug across the table.

It was so obvious Joxer hesitated. Knockout drugs in a drink, and drag the victim out and chain him in a galley before he woke up. Certainly Hassim wouldn't be that obvious, would he? How many people would be stupid enough to fall for something like that? But then, if that wasn't the case, it wouldn't hurt to take the drink--and if it was, he might as well do it now and get it over with. Joxer took the mug and drained it.

Hassim smiled again, and the men with him laughed. Joxer felt a sense of satisfaction. This was it, then. Again that alarm in the back of his head, the urge to get up and get away from the table, take his chances with another Sumerian ship--but he couldn't waste any more time. Not when Gab and Xena might be... A sudden spasm of nausea ran through him, and he looked away.

"Wine no good, softskin?"

"No, 'sfine." Okay, Joxer thought impatiently. Let it take effect now. Get it over with.

And the room did seem to be spinning somewhat. Good. Hassim stood up, and so did the men with him. "You look like you need some air," he said.

"I believe I do," Joxer agreed, playing the role of the idiot who fell for an obvious trick to the hilt. Now they would go outside, and sooner or later he'd pass out, and he'd wake up en route to Sumeria, and a little rowing was a small price to pay considering the alternative. He walked unsteadily for the door and before he was there two of the men were already supporting him by the arms. Holding him. The floor dipped and dove away under his feet, and then they were out in the street.

"He's gone," said one of the men, and Joxer would have agreed with him if he'd been able to speak.

"Very nice," said Hassim.

"Shall we go back to the ship?"

"Not right now," Hassim said thoughtfully. That alarm in the back of Joxer's head went off, louder and more hysterically than before. "Not quite yet...Come this way. I'm not sure how he'll hold up. Perhaps we should test him out first."

Oh, he did not like the sound of that. He tried to dig in his heels, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work, and he lifted his head enough to see they were heading for a door, and the door opened into darkness. This didn't happen, he thought for some reason, this dark, and he tried to protest but he couldn't make a sound, and he was choking, his voice muffled and someone was shaking him and...

He awoke, shuddering, gasping for air. He was not in the alley, and the face above him was not Hassim's. "Gabrielle," he said before he was fully aware once again of where he was. "I...Gabrielle. Hello."

"Bad dream?"

"Yeah." He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the chaise where he'd fallen asleep. Gabrielle poured some water from the ewer on the side-table into a cup and handed it to him. "Thanks," he said.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure you're all--"

"Leave me alone," Joxer snapped before he could stop himself. He put the cup aside. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's just that...Everyone keeps bugging me, y'know? I'm fine about it, okay?"

Gabrielle snorted. "Well--I'm not." She turned and paced away a few steps.

"What?"

"Xena kicked me out until I can 'control myself'. Stand there like her and not blink an eyelash. Joxer, I want to kill that guy."

"Gabrielle--" He stumbled to his feet, wanting to reach for her and knowing better.

"I want to kill him. I think of what he did to you, and I want...Gods, Joxer!" She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. "Why do you get yourself into these messes? How could you have been so stupid as to..."

"I wasn't!" He was snapping again, couldn't stop himself, didn't want to. "Don't feel sorry for me, and don't go around killing people for me! I know what I did! I did it on purpose, okay?"

"How can you get captured onto a slave ship on purpose?"

"Because I knew what it would be like." He did reach for her this time, took her shoulders and shook her once like a disobedient pup. "I knew what it would be like, and I thought it was happening to you and Xena, and what was I supposed to do? What would you have done, if you thought Xena was in that kind of trouble? And would you have regretted it for a moment?"

Gabrielle stared him down, not turning away. "Anything I had to," she said finally. "And not for one minute." She reached up and put a hand on his wrist, and her voice softened. "I understand. I only wish it hadn't happened."

"So do I." He looked away, shamefaced. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"I'm sorry I.." She looked away herself. "I'm just sorry. I'm sorry I called you stupid. I'm sorry I haven't been any help."

"I don't need any help. I'm fine."

"I--" She moved forward before he could react, and pulled him into a hug. "I've just been so worried about you, ever since... I still am."

He returned the hug tentatively, knowing Gabrielle hated these kind of moments, expecting her to pull back or push him away at any minute. "Gabrielle," he said, "don't be. I'm fine. I don't want to upset you, I..."

She hooked her chin over his shoulder. "I know. I just keep kicking myself that I didn't do something, that...that I sent you away. If I hadn't done that, none of this mess would have happened."

"Don't blame yourself." Her hair tickled against his face.

"The thing is," she said in a small voice, "I didn't even want you to go away."

He could hardly breathe. "Really?"

"Really. I was just so afraid you'd get hurt if you stayed with us."

"Oh." That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, but then he'd never get what he wanted to hear, would he? Fiercely he shoved that thought out of his mind. It was enough. It was enough--and Gabrielle still hadn't pulled back from the embrace. He held very still, feeling the rise and fall of her ribs under his arms, her warm breath on his neck--and then she sniffed, loudly, and he knew what was coming. Very reluctantly--so reluctantly!--he loosened his grip and allowed her to pull away.

Gabrielle sniffed again. "I'm sorry," she said.

"No problem." He fished for something to say. "What are friends for?"

"Best friends." She smiled a tremulous smile, and took his hand in hers, squeezing it hard. He returned the grip, and that was another precious moment of the kind that he lived for. "Joxer, we'll think of something, okay? We'll work something out--this whole sword and Sumeria and Hassim thing. Don't worry. It'll all come out right in the end. Isn't that what you always say?"

"Yes." The problem was he no longer believed it. A bit of the dream flashed into his mind for a moment, and with it a spasm of alarm. "You're not going to, uh, tell Xena--"

"Not unless you want me to."

"No."

"Okay." She sighed. "I think you're making a mistake. But if you change your mind, if you want me to talk to her, if you want me with you--if you just want to talk at all--you come get me, understand?" She laid the back of her hand against his cheek again, and he could not resist leaning into the caress. She only ever did that particular gesture with him. It made him so joyful his heart might break. It put him in such despair he might break out laughing. He wanted to take her hand, hold it there for a moment, say something--

But he held back and the moment was gone. She dropped her hand, and her gaze, looking at the floor. "Well," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Well, I..."

The door opened. They both looked up at once, to see Nebula and Xena come into the room. "Ah, there you are," Nebula said to him. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, I'm, uh, fine."

"Great. Come on, we'll play a few games of stones and get something to eat. I need to figure out how we're going to run the trial, and I need your input."

Joxer looked at Xena. "Xena, d'you, uh, need me for anything, I can..."

"No." She waved him away. "Go on."

He turned back to Gab. "Uh..."

But she was looking away. Deliberately looking away, not at him, not at Nebula, at the floor. Tell me not to go, he begged her silently. Tell me to stay, and I will.

But she said nothing.

Joxer put that away in the dark place, where he kept the dreams and the bad things locked away, and refused to think about it further. "Okay, then. See you guys later." He took Nebula's arm in his and allowed he to lead him away.

Outside in the hall the sun was growing lower, and the shadows longer.

-13-

GABRIELLE AWOKE before dawn, dressed silently, and headed for the practice arena. She needed to get in some quality time with the problem of the sword, because that was a problem that was solvable.

The air was chilly, and the yoga exercises she prepared with failed to warm her body as much as they failed to calm her mind. It wasn't going to be a good day. Again. Gabrielle suppressed a sigh, or maybe a curse, took out her sai and started to slowly run through her routine.

A warrior shouldn't allow herself to be thrown off her game by a little cold. A warrior shouldn't allow herself to be distracted by emotion. A warrior shouldn't allow herself to be caught unprepared by events. Blah, blah, blah. A warrior shouldn't do this, a warrior shouldn't do that. Bullshit, thought Gab and took a savage stab at an invisible enemy. A lot of that warrior should and shouldn't stuff was bullshit, and Joxer knew it. He'd said so before, right to Xena's face. So why was he pounding himself with it now? And why the hell wouldn't the idiot talk to Xena? Why was he not willing to talk to anyone except... except Nebula, for pity's sake? What did she understand about him, anyway?

The invisible enemies didn't stand a chance. They died in droves, in the matter of a few seconds' flurry of movement, and Gabrielle was left blinking and surprised. What the heck was that? She hadn't been paying attention at all. Snarling to herself, she started the series of movements over again. Pay...attention. A warrior... pays... attention. Nebula.

Gabrielle groaned in frustration and started over once more. The House of the Lion was really burning her butt lately.

And that went for more than one member of it, too.

-----

"Gods." Nebula stretched in her chair like a satisfied lioness, arching her back and groaning in a tone that was half-growl, half-purr. "I so do not want to face the Court today."

Because of him. Joxer poked at the farmers' cheese but his appetite was not its best. "Do you really think it'll be so bad?" he asked.

"I put a member of the royal House in the dungeons. It'll be bad."

"Not all the Houses seem to be opposed to you, though." She gave him a funny look, and he stumbled over the next few words. "I, I mean from what I've seen, it seems like a lot of them are playing both sides. And some, like the Fox and the Gazelle, they seem very supportive of having the law apply across the board like you're doing."

"Well, they would. They're too far out of the line of succession to really care."

"Who else is out of the line of succession? You could work with that."

"Work how?" Nebula leaned on the table and looked at him. The servants had been shooed off once breakfast had been brought, instead of required to stand at hand as normal to refill jugs and whisk empty plates away, and they were alone in the cavernous royal apartments. No one around to maybe take offense at what Joxer might say, not even Suleiman, and emboldened by this he plowed forward. "Well...it seems that only the Houses with a direct shot at the throne really have anything to lose if the laws are tightened. And the Houses that don't have a shot at the throne hate the Houses that do, right?"

"So..." Nebula spoke carefully, feeling it out. "So it's not so much an advantage for them, but a disadvantage for their enemies?"

"In Athens the demagogues have this thing they do when they want to get power. They go against their own allies, and if it works the opposition lines up behind then. It can get kind of messy," he admitted. Nebula was quiet for a moment. Blew it, Joxer thought, and traced patterns in the cheese. "It takes a lot of skill to pull it off. And in Athens, people know about that kind of trick, and they're wary, but here..."

"But here there's never really been such a split before." Nebula leaned back in her chair again. "The lesser Houses see the Lion House spurning me, but I'm still the monarch--and they fall in behind me to take the opportunity for revenge." The wolf grin slowly spread across her face again. "Brilliant." She laughed. "Congratulate me."

"You're brilliant," Joxer said dryly.

"You're brilliant for coming up with it. I'm brilliant for asking you. Same thing."

The praise felt strangely almost like a blow, and Joxer ducked his head. "It's nothing," he mumbled. "Really. I mean, Gabrielle and me, we used to sit up nights all the time and talk about..."

Gabrielle. Now his appetite really was gone. Gabrielle, and he was feeling slightly guilty though he really had no reason to, did he? Slightly guilty, and slightly angry with himself, like he should have stayed last night and talked some more with her, and maybe...And maybe what? he asked himself. Don't be more of an idiot than you have to. No chance of any maybe what, you know that. I know that, he repeated after himself silently.

But still he felt guilty.

Nebula tapped him lightly on the shoulder and he sprang up, surprised. She looked at him intently, her dark eyes warm but serious. "Don't worry about Blondie, pal," she said softly. "She'll come around." Then she sat back and the serious expression was gone once more. "Making allies of enemies and vice-versa," she said. "Well, well, well. Should be interesting."

-14-

OVER THE NEXT TWO DAYS Xena insisted on patrolling, which surprised Suleiman; generally she stayed close to Nebula and attended to matters of policy. "What about the baby?" the Guard asked.

Xena snorted. "It'll be hard, but I'll force myself to walk carrying the baby."

Sumerian women often returned to their jobs in the fields or shops the day after giving birth, their brand new infants swaddled close to their bodies. Suleiman laughed. "I am sorry," he said.

"You should be." Xena gave him a mock-serious glare before taking up Eve's carry-sack and hanging it from her shoulders, and starting out on her rounds.

Xena needed to know for herself, first-hand, what people were really thinking. Gossip was key in a situation like this. If anyone was planning anything, rumors would be flying. And despite her status as one of the Queen's personal Guard, the nobles still treated her with the disdain due to a female and an outsider. They wouldn't bother to hide their talk from her, the way they would from Suleiman.

She moved along the palace halls, visited the hanging gardens, the baths, the gaming-rooms, all the places where people congregated. She joined the conversations she could, eavesdropped on the ones she couldn't, and sought out chambermaids and bath attendants for their opinion. The palace was awash in talk, mostly speculation of how seriously Nebula would punish Hassim. Some thought she would go easy on him, since he was a member of her House. Some thought she would lock him up permanently. "That slave, you know," one noblewoman confided to Xena. "That softskinned one, the one Hassim brought back from Egypt. This is all because Nebula wanted it for herself, you know."

"Really."

"Which is silly, because if she asked Hassim he'd have to give it to her. That's the way things are done. Not like this." The woman allowed herself a shiver of scandalized delight. "Overkill. But delightful, don't you think?"

The woman's reaction was much like many people's. They were assuming Joxer was taking a central role in the situation, and that wasn't good at all. Xena would have to take him aside and give him a good talking-to... later. Good gods, the man was trouble. All he needed to do was show up somewhere and things instantly started falling apart. She was fond of Joxer and loved him dearly, but she really wished this time he'd stayed away. It would have been better for all of them. Especially Joxer himself. She thought of Hassim, and her hand twitched on the chakram.

"Mwah," said Eve, reproachfully.

"I know. I'm all right." Xena knew somehow, in her gut, that Eve understood just about everything that went on around her. She'd find out once her daughter learned to speak--and Xena wasn't sure if she was looking forward to that or not. "I'm perfectly calm," she told Eve.

"Goo."

"Yes, angry, but calm. That's something Gabrielle still has to learn."

"Along with the art of talking to herself?"

The trilling voice dripped with honey and poison in equal measure. Xena stopped and turned around. "Nyosa," she said coldly.

"Xena. Are you lacking for conversational partners lately? Maybe I can help."

"Why aren't you with Hassim?"

"Oh." Nyosa waved dismissively, the silver bangles on her wrists clinking. She wore a wrap woven in a complex spattering pattern of red and brown and black, as though fresh and dried blood had been sprayed across the cloth, and she had a string of rubies worked through her thick hair. "Hassim is no fun right now. Always complaining about jail. Perhaps when he is out he will become interesting again."

"Or Khalil?"

Nyosa laughed. "Xena, I have many, many friends. Khalil does not understand this and he becomes most tiresome on the subject. But surely you are a woman, and you understand." Her gaze flicked to Eve. "After all, you bear the evidence that you think the same."

Xena almost laughed in Nyosa's face at the transparent ploy, but outwardly remained calm and unaffected. That would aggravate Nyosa more, and perhaps induce her to become careless. "And what do your many friends think about what Nebula's doing?"

"My many friends think Nebula has very poor taste." Nyosa smoothed the cloth across her hips. "Many things are forgivable in a monarch, but poor taste is not one of them."

"I see."

"Well, I must go now and attend to something interesting instead of this. I am sorry you could not get me to give you the information you seek, Xena. Let it come as a surprise instead. I love surprises, don't you?" She laughed again, and sashayed away down the hall.

More games. Xena watched her go, arms folded. Everyone here was playing games, but Nyosa's were the most dangerous. One, she was looking out only for herself... "and two," Xena said aloud, "she's trying to annoy me. That is a very bad move."

"Cooo," Eve agreed.

But whether Nyosa was a danger, or only an annoyance, was not yet clear. So many things unclear. Xena hated that. What she liked was open conflict. At least then you could pick a side, and wade in swinging. She shook her head, and headed for Nebula's chambers.

And found the trouble she was looking for. Khalil was there, and she could hear his voice before she opened the door. "Sister, think of what you are doing!"

"The subject is closed, Khalil," Nebula said.

Xena eased the door open. Nebula sat in her elevated chair, her face stern. Joxer was in the room, standing a little behind her, his stance uneasy. He was the only one who noticed Xena enter the room, and for some reason looked down and away from her once he had. Khalil was pacing back and forth, clearly distressed, and took no notice of Xena. "Sister," he started again. His tone was agonized, not commanding.

"Khalil, this isn't about family. It's about the law."

"It is about family. You're bringing shame upon the House."

"Hassim's the one who brought shame upon the House," Nebula said coldly. "He openly defied the monarch--or doesn't that count as shameful, if the monarch is only a woman?" Khalil didn't answer this, almost as if he agreed with the rebuke, and Nebula went on. "I gave him a chance, which is more than I should have. He could have stayed in the provinces and never had to face his punishment, but he chose to challenge me on my own ground--and he will not win. No one will ever win doing that, do you understand, Khalil?"

Instead of answering, Khalil turned his back on her for a moment, drawing a breath-- and when he turned around again he was wearing the familiar disdainful expression, and his voice was once again calm. "Sister, I am only looking out for your best interests."

"I'm sure you are," Nebula said dryly.

"I would hate to see the House of the Lion brought low by the..." He stared directly at Joxer for a long moment.... "influence..." Again a pointed pause. "Of outsiders."

"My business. As it always has been. Royal privilege."

"Privilege, yes," said Khalil, his lip curling as if he smelled something foul, "a fine tradition unfortunately, for the monarch to seize someone else's toy and play a fool for a few moments'--"

"Enough," Xena said sharply. "Khalil, this audience is over."

Khalil looked at her balefully. "The audience is not over until the Queen says it is. Unless you are running the country now, outlander?"

"Khalil," Nebula said, "the audience is over. Be a good little weasel and run along now. You've had your fun."

Xena saw the look on Joxer's face and decided that Khalil'd had too much fun. She took the prince by the elbow and escorted him to the door. He shook free with a disdainful shiver, but when he stepped out into the hall Xena stepped out behind him.

Khalil sighed to signal how very put-upon he was, and turned to face her. The man had guts, Xena thought. And he was about thirty seconds from having them spattered all over the hall. "And what do you want?" he asked.

"I want to make sure you understand who's in charge around here."

"You?" There was challenge in his voice, and the time left to him decreased to twenty seconds.

"Nebula will be very annoyed if anyone was to make a scene at the trial. My job is to make sure Nebula doesn't get annoyed."

He snorted. "Nebula should have thought of that before she started this nonsense. It is a shame that she insists on pushing this so far--especially over something as insignificant as her new pet."

That did it. Xena gave him The Look and waited until she was sure she had his attention. "That man is a friend of mine," she said slowly and clearly. "Hassim threw him in chains and had him starved, beaten, and abused. He should thank whatever gods he fears that Nebula is punishing him, because if she wasn't, then I would be. Do you understand this?"

Khalil flicked his gaze away, acknowledging submission, but his voice remained steady. "I care nothing what happens to Hassim," he said. "One less competitor for the throne, and one less amusement for Nyosa to distract herself with. What I care about is being on the winning side. Do you understand that, Xena?" He smiled, that unsettling smile that looked so like Nebula's, and walked away.

Xena watched him go. One less immediate problem to deal with. But the others... She opened the door again, and the chief among those problems pushed his way past her. "I gotta go, Xena," Joxer mumbled. He paused to tap Eve lightly on the nose. She laughed and grabbed his finger, but he pulled it away. "Gotta go," he repeated, and walked quickly away down the hall.

"Mwah," said Eve, disappointed.

Xena sighed. "I know."

-----

That evening Nebula asked Joxer to stay the night again. "I'm tense," she said. "I need a diversion." He was more than agreeable to this. He needed a diversion himself.

He lay here now, satiated and satisfied, his mind pleasantly empty and drifting. These were the rare times he could get outside himself and not have to think. Nebula was warm and easygoing and didn't ask him to face things he didn't want to face, didn't know what he used to be and how far he had fallen. All she wanted was a friend and a little fun. He understood entirely.

She lay on his chest, one arm thrown across him like a lioness guarding a kill. Raising her head, she nuzzled sleepily at his throat, a few quick licks that made him shiver. "You're salty," she said. "Is that a Greek guy thing?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never tasted a Greek guy."

"Oh?" Her eyes glinted wickedly. "So what kind of guys have you tasted?"

"Very funny." He wasn't into guys at all, and the subject threatened to bring up exactly the kind of thoughts he was avoiding. Quickly he tapped her lips with his fingers to distract her. She trapped them in her mouth and sucked hard, ending the tease with a small bite. He pulled his hand away and made a great show of holding it up before his face, checking that all the fingers were intact. "You're a nice guy, Joxer," Nebula said for no apparent reason. She waited a carefully timed minute, and then added, "Which makes it even more puzzling why Xena puts up with you."

"I have many skills." He flipped her off of his chest with a mock growl and pounced on her.

"Well, two, at least. What's surprising is that she let you keep them."

Ooh. Impertinent woman. He held her trapped beneath him while he started covering her bared throat with tiny, annoyingly teasing kisses. She laughed and stretched herself beneath him--and then something happened. He didn't know what it was, but he could sense all of a sudden her heart was no longer in the game. Very well. He gave her a final kiss on the lips and eased off to the side, leaving her lying on her back looking at the ceiling. She was smiling, but her sigh was heavy. "One more day," she said. "One more day and it'll all be over. Then we can start again with something else."

"It won't take long. That's something."

"It'll take forever for all of them to sit down and shut up, though."

It would. On any day in court the various members of the Houses wasted hours of time squabbling over where they would be seated in the hall and who outranked who and to what degree, and at this session there would certainly be more of them than ever before. "Okay. The speech part won't take long."

"No, it won't. And then I'll get up and leave, in order to show I have no interest in discussing the matter. The Guard will follow me and close the door. And you'll be there, too, of course."

"In the gallery," Joxer said. It wouldn't do for him, with no official position at Court, to be standing with the Queen on such an important matter. Only her personal Guard was allowed on the dais, Suleiman and Xena and...Gabrielle.

Nebula touched his face, a surprising tender gesture from her. "You can be there, if you want. It's about you."

"And about all the other guys on the ship, the ones Hassim sold or..." Or who never made it to Sumeria, the ones who were maybe dolphins now, jumping and happy out at sea. He hoped so.

Nebula sighed, and stroked his cheek again. "You're right. It's about the law. It just gets more important when it's someone you know."

"What do you think the Court will do?"

"I don't think they'll do anything. Not at the trial. It'll be afterwards, when they go off and yap among themselves about it, when any trouble will start." She sighed. "Oh, well. The problems of power."

"Why are you Queen?"

"What?"

He hadn't meant to ask the question. It had just popped out. "Why are you Queen? You don't seem to like it much. Why did you take the throne, and not let Khalil or Hassim or someone have it instead? Why didn't you stay a pirate? You're always talking about how much better it was for you back then."

Nebula looked at the ceiling, her expression thoughtful. Finally she said, "It was because I was a pirate that I decided I had to take the throne."

Joxer curled against her and waited for her to elaborate. After a moment she went on. "See, if Khalil or Hassim or even someone from the Leopard or the Bull House had taken the throne, it would have been business as usual. You grow up in a royal House, you learn the world is a certain way. You rule because you were born to rule, and every House below you has to submit to you, and anyone who's not in a House doesn't count at all. You become someone like Hassim or Nyosa, who treats human beings the same way they might pull the wings off of flies and laugh at their pain. But when I left, I found that there were thousands of people in Sumeria outside the Houses, people with ambitions and hopes and dreams, people who wanted to be free to do what they wanted to do instead of living out their lives under the pressure of some royal whim or another. I suppose that sounds silly to you, but it had never occurred to me. It was just the way I was brought up."

"It's not silly," Joxer said softly. "My family taught me a lot of things about the way people are that I later found out were wrong. Some things you have to learn for yourself."

"I suppose I did." She half-smiled, no longer with him, off in her memories somewhere. "I learned about people, and in order to work my way up to captain of my own ship, I learned how to lead. I would never have come back and tried to take the throne, but when it became my turn to ascend I felt...I felt almost as if I'd learned all those things for a reason, that the gods meant for me to have learned them so I could come back and teach them to the Houses, and make Sumeria a better place." She laughed. "Now I know that sounds silly."

He shrugged. "Who can tell with gods?"

"Who can?" she agreed. "We're lucky here; our gods generally leave us alone, and we leave them alone."

"Way lucky." And way lucky for Xena and Gab that they had found their way here. He thought of Eve, growing up like the highly-valued Sumerian children, running freely about the streets and treated kindly by every adult they met. "It's not such a bad place here, not at all."

"And it'll be better once this slavery thing is put to rest once and for all. My life's work." She spoke it lightly, but he knew her well enough now to hear the seriousness underlying the tone. She meant what she said.

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I can't think of anything better."

-15-

THE DAY OF THE TRIAL dawned as bright and balmy as every other day on the coast. Well before the sun was fully up the members of Court started to arrive. It might look like any other day, but they all knew it would not be.

Joxer went up into the galleries early, to watch the people coming in and look for signs of trouble. Of course, Xena and Suleiman would be doing that themselves, but as Xena said it never hurt to have another pair of eyes. Even though his really didn't work that well from this far away, but still.

He was surprised, though, to find the galleries already full of people. They gathered in between the support columns, pulling the draperies aside, peering down onto the floor. A lot of them were noblewomen, traditionally banned from the official business of Court. Although Nebula had lifted the ban, most of them still felt it beneath their dignity to bother with mundane affairs such as politics and stayed away--but apparently the prospect of a good scandal could bring them out in droves. And there were a lot of other people here, not in the florid noble dress but in practical wraps and tunics and pants--the palace staff. There, those were some of the gardeners, and on the other side of the pillar two of Nebula's chambermaids. He recognized Mwambe, the head of the kitchens, who he'd been trying to pry the recipe for that hot red sauce out of without success, and Keesha, who was in charge of maintaining Xena and Gab's apartments. He'd never seen servants up here before--but it made sense, didn't it? In the palace they were employees, but almost anywhere else they'd be slaves. Who had a greater interest in seeing if Nebula really did intend to enforce her laws on the subject?

Joxer finally found a free section of curtain, pulled it aside and looked at the Royal Hall below. If he'd wanted to watch everyone coming in, he was too late; the nobles themselves had also all arrived early, the bickering over seating more sharp and pointed than usual. Joxer counted badges. The Goat House, the Fox, the Kite, they were all out in force. The Jackal? He'd never seen a member of the Jackal House at court but had heard how both the men and women alike shaved their heads oddly on the sides, leaving only a strip of hair running back from the crown. Those had to be Jackals, then. And there were Houses he didn't even recognize, maybe had never even heard of. The lesser Houses had all turned out, and they were crowding the greater Houses out of their seats. No wonder the squabbling was so loud today.

This continued for a good long while. Joxer saw a motion out of the corner of his eye and turned; a hand came out from behind one curtain, threw some small objects--grains of rice?--over the balcony, and withdrew. This was followed by giggling, muffled as it was by the heavy draperies. Somebody's kids. Joxer suppressed a snort of laughter himself and looked down to see if anyone noticed they had rice on their heads.

They didn't. Their attention was now at the front of the room where the large carved wooden doors behind the dais, with their pair of fully-carved roaring lions, were opening. The Court fell silent. Suleiman and Xena came through the doors, walking in measured step, each holding a spear. Suleiman took one side of the throne, and Xena the other. They waited for a moment, then hit the butts of the spears upon the dais, three times. The sound echoed off the carved chambers set under the floor and around the room, like the tolling of a deep bell.

Then Nebula entered. She was wearing the full regalia, saffron and gold, and a long cape worked with gold-thread embroidery depicting the power and the history of the House of the Lion. At her side under the cape the gold hilt of a sword was visible, a sacred object normally kept locked away from view unless the monarch needed it to pass a judgment. Nebula looked every inch a queen, and it almost took Joxer's breath away to see her march with slow stately dignity into the room. And then behind her Gabrielle followed, and his breath stopped entirely.

She was wearing no crown, no gold, no ornaments or fine colors. She had on only leather and linen, bronze bracers on her forearms, everything muted and dull, the color of earth and smoky sky. Her feet were bare in the Sumerian style, but her light skin showed the dirt where theirs did not, and her hair was shaggy and tousled. Among the tall Sumerians she appeared even smaller than usual, almost unnoticed as she knelt in front of the Queen to place a footstool under Nebula's feet. Then she moved to the side, tucked her legs underneath her, and remained still. Whereas Xena was serving as the royal bodyguard, Gabrielle was merely an attendant, a job usually left to some low-ranking servant. She had no official blessing, no royal prerogative, no noble finery, no Guard authority. She was so beautiful.

Joxer had to turn his head away for a moment, dust in his eyes or something making them tear, and he blinked it away fiercely before turning back to the scene. Suleiman had left the dais to patrol the hall in case of trouble, and two more of the Guard were proceeding up the center aisle with Hassim between them. Hassim walked with an arrogant assurance as if the guards were there as his lackeys and not his captors. Three days in jail hadn't done him any harm, Joxer saw. Obviously they hadn't been like the first three days on the ship. Or the second, or the third--

Focus. The Guards and Hassim came to a halt before the throne. Nebula held her hand up in the ritual gesture for silence, although no one in the room was as much as breathing.

"We are here to pass censure on Hassim of the House of the Lion for disobeying Our will and flouting Our law. Is there any here that would object?"

There was a rustling from toward the back of the room, and a member of the Goat House stood. "There are none among us who would disobey the rule of our most honored Queen."

Ooh. Joxer marveled. Very nice. The man had just effectively made anyone who now spoke against Hassim's sentencing a traitor to the throne. He wondered if Nebula had instructed him what to say, or if he'd come up with it on his own. If so, he bore watching--could be very useful to Nebula in the future. He told himself firmly several times not to forget to tell this to Nebula afterwards.

Nebula nodded slightly and waited. When there was no other protest, she looked down at Hassim standing before her. "Hassim of the House of the Lion, do you have that to say or show which will prove your innocence in this matter?"

"No, my Queen." He said the words as if repeating a formula, his tone bored.

"Very well, then." Nebula seemed slightly surprised that Hassim was not giving her a hard time, but Joxer suspected she wasn't anything like displeased about it. She stood, the embroidered cape flowing around her like liquid gold. Gabrielle stood as well, took the cape off Nebula's shoulders and moved to stand to her side and a little back, holding the sacred cloth carefully free of the ground until the ritual called for it to be replaced once more.

"Hassim of the House of the Lion," Nebula said. "You have disobeyed Our will and flouted Our law. For this We have the right and the duty to punish you according to the severity of your crime. It is Our judgment that you be sent to Our estate on the far side of the Blue Mountains, to serve in the fields there for seven years and seven days."

A collective gasp ran around the room. The fieldwork on most large estates was handled almost entirely by slave labor. Nebula had come up with a perfect punishment--for making slaves of people, Hassim would be forced to take on the same kind of work he himself had condemned them to. It was genius. Joxer watched, fascinated. He couldn't see Hassim's face from here, but his stance had changed in an instant. And the crowd was too shocked--or delighted--to react. And those kids were messing with the curtain over there again, the rice glinting as they took aim...Nuts. Focus, Joxer told himself ferociously. Focus. He wondered why he never could seem to do that.

"At the end of this time you may return to Us, and We will decide if your punishment has been sufficient. In the meantime, since you have no heirs, your property will be held by the Crown until your return, and the ownership of your lands and estates shall pass into the hands of the current tenants of same."

Where the first pronouncement had produced a gasp, the second created utter silence. Nebula had just given Hassim's estates to his slaves--and as only citizens could own land, the slaves were therefore freed. Another stroke of genius. The first step in her ambition to free the slaves on land as well as at sea, a second public shaming for Hassim, a weakening of the power of the Lion House, and many new citizens grateful and absolutely loyal to the Queen who had granted them their status. It was so perfect. Joxer felt like laughing, or jumping up and down, or getting some of that rice from those kids and tossing it all over the place, or maybe he could rice didn't glint.

Joxer sprang to attention. He looked back at the place he'd seen the curtain part, and it was pulled back. The glint again. A weapon, an arrow, a knife, and it flashed forward, heading straight for the throne, and Nebula , and Gabby. "Gabrielle!" he howled. "Look out!"

A dozen faces looked up, but only one body moved. Gabrielle, reacting instinctively to the sound of his voice, stepped in front of Nebula and at the same time whipped the cape up and around with an audible snap. It caught something mid-air and slammed it to the floor, the sound of metal on marble breaking the silence.

Joxer's heart clawed at his chest, struggling to get free. He couldn't see if Gabrielle had been hit or not, he couldn't see if Nebula was all right, he wanted to look and find out but he had to get that guy who'd thrown the object, and he had to get him now. He pushed his way through the folds of the draperies, fighting past shrieking noblewomen and astonished stonemasons, and into the back hall. He looked up and he looked down, and saw Khalil looking straight back at him. The prince looked shocked. Joxer thought he himself was probably wearing that same pole-axed expression. Then Khalil roared "You!" and charged straight at him. He tackled Joxer and shoved him to the ground.

Joxer's head met the marble flooring with a loud and painful thump, and more out of instinct than ability to move he clawed at Khalil's head and shoulders, trying to hold him off. "You," Khalil panted, "you, you...outlander, you..." He was fumbling at his waist, and Joxer remembered the lion-headed dagger. No, he did not want Khalil to bring that into play. Desperately he heaved Khalil off and to the side, rolled on top of him and tried to pin him down. Khalil grew annoyed by this and punched Joxer in the temple.

Head now ringing from two areas, Joxer collapsed momentarily as Khalil shoved him off and struggled to his feet. Joxer rose as well, gasping. There was one of those low doorways on the wall behind Khalil, those ones Gab said led to the secret passageways--if Khalil got in there, he'd never be able to catch him, maybe nobody would. He charged desperately, grabbed Khalil and they wrestled for a moment, and Joxer was now between Khalil and the door.

There was livid, open hatred on Khalil's face. "I have had enough of you, softskin," he growled, and he charged.

But Joxer charged first. He didn't have enough time to think out what he was going to do and he didn't let himself think it out because then he wouldn't do it. All he would allow himself to think was that Khalil had tried to kill Gab, and maybe he'd try again, and Joxer was not going to allow Gabrielle to die and leave him again. Was not. He hit Khalil low but instead of bearing him to the floor charged straight ahead, into the curtains. The heavy draperies closed around both of them for a moment, suffocating darkness, and then Khalil and Joxer as well came to a stop up against the railing. "Wait!" Khalil cried, in sudden fear, but Joxer couldn't wait or else he wouldn't have the nerve to act.

And he pushed farther forward, and the two of them tumbled backward over the edge.

Khalil clawed desperately at the curtain, sliding down it like an exploring kitten, and the curtain came over with them. They slid to its end and for a moment Khalil clung to the curtain, and Joxer clung to Khalil, and then the curtain tore from its moorings and they fell. They fell, and they landed once, twice, again, clattering, bumping, stools and Court members underneath them, and they hit the floor and came to a halt.

Joxer lay on top of Khalil, blood trickling into his eyes and stinging something awful, and his ears were still ringing so badly the footsteps running up to him were soft and muffled as if they were a league away. He tried to push himself up off Khalil, who--was he dead?! No, he was breathing, staring, stunned as well--push himself up and get up, but he couldn't seem to do it. Then someone was kneeling by him, pulling his arm over her shoulders, standing. Gabrielle. "Gabrielle," he muttered. "Gabrielle, 'r you al'right?"

"Joxer, take it easy. What--" She stared down at the prince. "Khalil?"

Khalil tried to push himself up, sputtering. "Assassin," he snarled. "Murderer--" and there were three spear points leveled at his chest. One of the spears belonged to Nebula. She must have snatched it from one of the Guard, not for Nebula to run and hide until all was safely over. One of the spears belonged to Suleiman, and the Guard's face was grim. "Where's your dagger, Khalil?"

"What dagger? What are you talking about? Let me up, damn you!"

Xena stepped forward. "This dagger," she said coldly and held it out. The lion-headed dagger, the one Joxer had feared. And rightly so, as it had turned out. "The one you threw at Nebula?"

"I never!" Khalil gasped in indignation. "I... it was him, the outlander, I caught him upstairs in the hall, and..."

"We had a little fight," Joxer admitted. He was starting to feel the familiar aftereffects of any fight he wound up in, which consisted of a lot of bruises and a really badly bent self-image.

"Take him away," Nebula snapped. Suleiman and another Guard hauled Khalil to his feet and dragged him off, not gently, the astounded crowd parting for them without complaint. Xena watched them go, her face hard. Nebula turned to Joxer. "You okay there, kiddo?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You've got a nasty bump..." She reached for his face, and Gabrielle pulled him away. "It's okay. It's under control," she said.

"He needs a physician. Take him to my chambers and I'll send for..."

"He'll be fine," Gabrielle snapped, "we'll take him to our chambers and Xena will take care of him. It's all taken care of."

"I think..."

"Everybody stop shouting," Joxer mumbled. "Oh, my head."

Xena looked up at the gallery rail and the faces peering over it, and sighed. "Well, if he landed on his head, it's nothing important. Nebula, I'll take him back and make sure he's all right, then I'm going to come stay with you for the rest of the day. We want to make sure there's no larger conspiracy, in case they might try again." She put herself carefully between Nebula and Gabrielle, who were hackling at each other like angry dogs, and put Joxer's other arm around her own shoulders. "Joxer, you're the only person I know who can fall over a chest-high rail."

"I did it on purpose," Joxer said, annoyed.

"And the only person I know who'd be stupid enough to fall over a chest-high rail two stories to a marble floor on purpose, and lucky enough to live to tell about it. Come on, we're going home." She and Gabrielle helped him to the door. He was forgetting something, he couldn't quite think of what. Something to do with Nebula...ah. "Nebula," he called over his shoulder.

"What?"

"That Goat guy," he said and wondered why she made such an odd face when he did. "He was pretty good. You oughta give him a position or something." He shifted his arm on Xena's shoulders so as not to bother Eve, and stumbled along out into the hall half-between, half-dangling from her and Gab. Yeah, the Goat guy had been pretty good. It had been a kind of interesting day at Court, all things considered.

-16-

"WHAT AM I going to do with you?" Gabrielle asked.

"Oh...I can think of lots of stuff."

"Oh, please." Gabrielle wrung the rag out in the washbasin and returned to cleaning the blood from Joxer's face. She rubbed a little harder at the cut than need be.

Joxer closed his eyes and thrilled at the pain, a fairly dopey smile spreading across his face. He had fallen down, and now Gabrielle was pissed at him. This was familiar. This was normal. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be fine after all. He leaned back on the chair, making a token attempt to escape, and when it didn't work that was normal too.

"Let me see," said Xena. She pried his eyelids open, looking straight into one eye, then the other--why, he had no idea--then examined the cut with surprisingly gentle hands. "Big bump there," she said, "and messy, scalp cuts bleed all over--but nothing serious. Go to bed early, maybe rest up for a couple of days, you'll be fine."

"Good," Gabrielle said, "then you can be on diaper duty if you're going to be hanging around in here all day."

Xena clapped him on the shoulder. "Two stories onto a marble floor on your head," she said again. "Joxer, you're...unique."

"I am," he agreed happily.

"Do you remember what happened up there in the gallery?"

"Pretty much." There were a few muzzy places, but Joxer was used to having muzzy places in his brain and could navigate around them fairly easily.

"Tell me." Xena stood back and folded her arms, her face expressionless. It was the serious-Xena face, so Joxer knew he'd better be careful to tell her everything. He told her about the crowd in the gallery, named all the people he'd recognized, told her about the kids with the rice. He said how he'd seen Suleiman leave the dais, the entrance of the guards, Hassim standing before the throne, and all the times people had stood up or sat down according to the ritual. He recounted the speeches word-for-word as best he could recall, and then came the hard part. "I saw something out of the corner of my eye, someone pushing aside curtains. Glinting. I..." He took a deep breath and admitted it. "I thought it was just the kids with the rice again, and I didn't realize it was a knife until...until it was almost too late." Blew it, Joxer thought. He looked at the floor. Blew it. It should never have gotten that far. "And it was going right for Gabrielle."

"Good thing, too. That was a nice catch," Xena said to Gabrielle.

"It was nothing." Gab looked almost flustered, and turned around and fussed with the washbasin.

"Yeah, pretty good trick for a woman with only a cape. You ever think of going to Crete and becoming a bull-dancer?"

"Very funny."

Xena grinned, a pleasant, happy grin, the kind she never used unless Gabrielle was around. "Well, I'm going to stay the night in Nebula's apartments, just in case there's a follow-up attempt. Keep him in bed, and get some rest yourself--you've earned it."

"Don't worry." Gabrielle yawned. "Ninety percent of today was so boring I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Just overnight. Suleiman will be out checking his sources tonight and he'll come meet you in the morning." Xena shouldered Eve and slung the diaper-sack over one arm. "See you tomorrow."

"Night, Xena."

"Night," Joxer said softly, not sure if he'd been forgotten and if so, not sure if it was best to remain that way. He never could tell with Xena. She left, and despite boots, baby, bag, and all, moved so silently that if he hadn't watched her close the door behind her he could never have told if she had gone.

Gabrielle wrung out the cloth again. "That was a pretty good trick," she said. "With the cape. I thought so, anyway."

"It was great."

"Okay. Great. I can live with that." She wiped at the cut, and something was missing. It took Joxer a moment to realize what--the stinging. She was being as gentle as possible, and it didn't sting. "That was a pretty good trick you did yourself," she said softly. "For a guy without a sword."

"Yeah." He thought about it. "Yeah...yeah, it was, wasn't it?"

Gabrielle dabbed gently at his face. Her eyes were not quite meeting his, but they were soft and warm and he was in danger of falling into her gaze completely. "Why didn't you mention that to Xena? It seemed like the perfect time."

"Not right now."

"She's going to wonder sooner or later."

Is she? he thought. Aloud he said, "I told you, Gabrielle. It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

Gabrielle took the cloth away and looked him straight in the eye. "Are you?"

And he couldn't look back at her. He lived for these kind of moments, and he couldn't look back at her. He looked away instead, a sudden wave of nastiness washing over him--shame, fear, bits of those dreams he hated so much--and he couldn't look back at her. Gabrielle remained crouched in front of him, and she said softly, "Okay. I'm sorry." Then in a louder, pointedly cheerful voice, she said, "Okay, time for your tea."

"Aw, Gab. Not the tea."

"The tea," she said firmly. She stood up and turned to the table, and picked up the cup. The smell made his stomach lurch even before she'd brought it around. "There you go. Drink."

Joxer glared at the evil thing. "Xena's like this big-time healer, right? So why can't she come up with a sleeping potion that doesn't smell like fermented cow dung?"

"Drink," Gabrielle said implacably.

"No way."

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice."

"I am not gonna drink that stuff. I'll go see Nebula, I bet her physicians have--"

She went for the nose grab. She hadn't done that for a long time, and he'd forgotten how fast she was. He opened his mouth to protest, and also breathe, and the next thing he knew he had a mouth full of swill. Gabrielle clamped his jaw shut with her other hand before he could spit it out. Good thing, too, cause he would have. He forced himself to swallow and then shook his head free.

"I warned you," Gabrielle said serenely, but her eyes sparkled. Joxer was going to let her have it, but the words died in his throat at the sight. How long had it been since she'd teased him like that? She'd slapped him around a bit at the Amazon village, and he could have sworn she was enjoying it--but as soon as they'd left it was back to Joxer, go away this and Joxer, don't come with us that. He wanted to say something perfect right now, something that would let her know how wonderful she was and how much he'd missed her, missed her teasing and her laughter and her conversation and her grumpiness in the morning and all of it. He had to do this, right now. He--gods, that stuff tasted awful! "Bleayh," he said.

This was probably not the right word. "Don't worry," Gabrielle said. "You'll be out like a snuffed candle soon and won't have to taste it."

"I'll taste it in my sleep." It was already taking effect, too. Joxer suspected Xena used this particular herb mix on him because it worked so fast he didn't have time to tell her exactly what he thought of it before passing out.

"Well, maybe that will teach you not to go around bumping your head all the time."

Joxer sulked. It wasn't his fault if Xena couldn't come up with a better post-head-bumping herb mix. "Fine way to treat an almost-hero," he said.

"A full hero." This surprised him. "You're the one who raised the alarm. Xena or I might not have seen the dagger in time. And you're the one who caught Khalil."

"I did, didn't I?" Joxer turned this over in his mind. He'd done it and not screwed anything up, except for having ripped the curtain. "I'm a hero," he announced. "A big hero. I want a reward."

"How about you get to go lie down and go to sleep now?" Gabrielle slung one of his arms around her shoulders and hauled him to his feet. "Come on. Big hero go beddy-bye."

"Oooh, sounds like fun."

"By himself," Gabrielle said firmly.

"That's not a reward. I wanna reward." Gabrielle helped him to his bed. His feet didn't work right. Some bad memory connected with that flashed past so quickly he couldn't see it, which he probably didn't want to see it anyhow. Gabrielle lowered him to the edge of the bed, and when he tried to get up again trapped his legs and flipped them quickly up onto the bed, forcing him onto his back. Oh well, sleep was good--and despite having the taste of that tea in his mouth for hours on end, it did keep him from having dreams. No dreams, no nightmares. But no reward. "Darn it," he said.

Gabrielle tapped him lightly on the nose. "Sleep."

"'S no fair."

"Okay. One kiss for the big hero."

Joxer froze. She was leaning over him with that sparkle in her eyes again. Teasing. Exceptionally mean teasing. He didn't care.

She lowered her head and he closed his eyes, waiting for the brush against his cheek. It didn't come. He felt her warm breath on his face, and then she kissed him. A real kiss, on the mouth. No, he was dreaming already. It was the drug. It had to be.

Because instead of kissing him quickly and moving away, she lingered, exploring his lips with her own, and he had to respond--couldn't help it--and there was the flick of her tongue? was it? and he put his hand up to her head, pulling her to him.

And that broke the spell. She pushed herself up, quickly, her eyes not meeting his. "Okay. You go to sleep now, all right?" She patted his shoulder. "Pleasant dreams, pal," she said and backed away through the curtain before his drug-dazed brain could form the words to speak. If he hadn't imagined the whole thing. Yeah, probably. Imagined the whole thing. I guess they are gonna be pleasant dreams, he thought as he slipped under. If they're starting out like that already. Yeah.

-----

Whoops, thought Gabrielle. Shouldn't have done that.

Got out of hand. Her usual instincts were right. She never went near Joxer at a time like this when he had just tried to drive her crazy by doing something incredibly stupid and incredibly brave at the same time, because it always worked. It did drive her crazy, and if she went near him at such times she'd be liable to either hug him or smack him half to death, or maybe both. So she always let Xena deal with any patching-up to be done, just to be safe.

But Joxer was still nervous around Xena, jumpy in a way he almost never was, and on instinct she'd shielded him from having to face her this time. That probably had been a mistake, too, she should have stood aside and maybe he would have been forced to...But no, he wouldn't have said anything. More of that warrior bullshit, no doubt. Bah. Maybe she could get Suleiman to talk to him. Maybe he'd listen to a guy...although was Joxer right, and would Suleiman look down on him for having lost his sword? Guys and swords. Double bah.

And whatever That Woman was doing to and/or with him obviously wasn't helping any. She didn't have any problems about him being with Nebula, of course, it was just that it wasn't helping. If That Woman wouldn't help, and if he insisted on being a stubborn idiot, and he was Joxer, after all, if he insisted on being a stubborn idiot then that left only Gabrielle to take up the slack. Friends look out for each other. And this was her chance to pay him back for all those times he'd shored her up in the past.

Not that anybody owed anybody anything, of course. It was just that...it was just a friend thing. She had an obligation, that was it. An obligation.

She pulled back the curtain and looked in on him. He was lying curled up on his side and his breathing was quiet. Joxer normally slept sprawled on his back or stomach, snoring away happily. He didn't look that way now. He looked almost as if he was hiding from something. And that wasn't Joxer's way. Duck, yes; dodge, stand aside, run if necessary, but not hide. Not lie down and give up. A sudden pain twisted in her gut, and she let the curtain fall back.

Yes. Somebody had to do something. Soon.

-17-

XENA COULD HEAR the shouting as she approached Nebula's apartments. There was a crash like an overturned table, sounds of a struggle. Xena stopped and waited. There was more shouting, and the door flew open. A handmaiden and two Guards ran out of it, stumbling over each other, followed by a rain of curses and a thrown urn, which soared over their heads to spatter against the far wall. Xena waited until the three had made their escape, then walked in through the still-open door. "Feel better now?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you." Nebula picked the overturned writing-table back up and kicked the fallen scrolls and inkpots underneath it. "I needed that."

"Bad day, huh?"

"Well, let's see... I had to banish my own cousin, I had to send him to one of my own estates which wrecked any fun I might ever have out there in the future, I made about six Houses furious by freeing his slaves, my own brother tried to kill me, and I had to go through all that wearing that stupid regalia with that breastplate that makes my tits sore for days. Yeah, I guess you could say it was a bad day. Why are you here?"

"I've come to protect you, of course." Xena unslung Eve and put her down on one of the couches. "Knowing how you're cringing in terror waiting for the follow-up assassins."

"Oh, good. I can rest safely knowing that the mighty Xena is here now." Nebula picked up Eve. "Hiya, kiddo. You gonna grow up and be a big scary woman like your mama?" Eve laughed.

"Don't give her any ideas," Xena said. "She's part-god, you know."

"Well, we'll just have to worship you then, won't we?" Nebula said. Eve grabbed at Nebula's hair, examining its texture, and now it was Nebula's turn to laugh. "We'll make a big Eve-temple, and everyone will have to come in and make offerings of sweetmeats and dollies. And then they'll all play peekaboo. You like that?" She gazed at Eve affectionately while the baby twisted her hair into a nasty-looking snarl. "I gotta worry about having babies someday. The royal line, and everything. I hope not for a while, though." She sighed. "My grandmother was like me, the only one in direct succession, but they wouldn't let her lead, of course. So she had to produce a heir right off the bat. Had five husbands. She used to tell me the bunch of them chattered so much she never went near them unless she had to...Evie, Auntie Nebula needs that scalp, okay? You go play now." She put the baby back down.

"So," Xena said, "are you okay?"

"I will be." Nebula watched Eve for a few moments more. "You know, Khalil and me, when we were kids, before we realized this whole thing with the succession and everything, we were inseparable. I even remember when I was like eight or nine thinking it wouldn't be such a bad thing if the House made us get married, I..." She straightened up, stretched out her back, and sighed. "Yeah. I will be okay. In a bit."

"I'm sorry," Xena said softly.

"So am I." Nebula walked over to a chair and sat down. "Have a drink," she said, waving at the filled sideboard. "A bite to eat if you like. I'm not all that hungry. I was careful not to throw any of the good stuff, though."

"Thanks." Xena poured some palm wine for herself, diluting it with enough water to keep it harmless, and selected some dried figs.

"How's Joxer?" Nebula asked. Her tone was a little too casual.

"He fell on his head. He's fine."

"I can send my physicians around to take a look if you want. No reflection on your abilities, of course."

"Nah. I gave him a sleeping potion to keep him put for a while, and he'll have a headache for a day or two. No biggie."

"Well...well, good then." Nebula was quiet for a moment, then snorted. "Man, Blondie had a bug up her ass."

"Gabrielle can be a little...protective of him." Xena returned to the couch and sat down. She gave Eve a fig to chew on, distracting the baby from her investigation of how best to climb up the nearest wall-hanging.

"And you're a little protective of her." Nebula held up a hand in surrender. "I know, I know. I take it all back. I shall never sully the name of the Great Gabrielle, O Mighty Xena."

Xena laughed softly. "No problem."

"That was a good move she did with the cape," Nebula admitted grudgingly. "Probably the first time that ugly thing's ever been useful in its entire existence." She sighed and leaned back. "And it looks like we can say the same thing for about half the Court."

"They seemed more or less shocked. What happened after we left?"

"A groundswell. An absolute groundswell. I went back up onto the dais, I thought I'd try to calm them down, save some face. 'We have taken care of this, it is as nothing to Us', that kind of thing--but almost immediately someone from the Bull House jumped up and was yelling about an attack on the person of the monarch and how it was against everything on the heavens and the earth and some such, you will pardon the expression, bullshit. The Bull House! The Bull House hates me. But they hate violations of tradition more."

"And then what?"

"Groundswell. Like I said. They were infuriated that anyone should make an attempt on the monarch in public. And after all, if someone had the nerve to attack the sacred person of the Queen, no noble's going to be safe, right? They were all chanting my name, by the end of it. I've never seen Court so unified on anything."

"Really," said Xena softly.

"Really." Nebula shook her head. "Wow, is Hassim's nose going to be out of joint. Nobody even noticed when they took him away. Well, serves the little bastard right, I guess. Funny." She mused. "I though this was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever done as queen. It turned out personally, it was--but politically, it seems to be the best move I ever made. Funny."

"Yeah," said Xena. "Funny."

The dried figs were not as tasty as she thought at first. She gave the rest of her share to Eve, who unconcerned with matters of politics chewed on them happily.

-18-

Joxer woke with an aching head and a horrible taste in his mouth, and not even any fun from the previous evening to show for it. Cursing softly, he got up and staggered out into the apartments. He didn't see Gabrielle. He went out into the garden, and there she was. Darn.

She was seated on one of the rock formations meditating, eyes closed, but somehow sensed he was there and turned a bright smile on him. "Morning, hero. How are you feeling?"

Really stupidly happy all of a sudden, looking at that smile. "I, uh, I feel fine. I've just gotta...y'know, acacias."

"Ah." Gabrielle got down off her perch. "I'll go get breakfast."

Good. Didn't need an audience. It wasn't like out in the woods where a guy could go off and have some privacy, was it? He did what he came to do, washed his hands off in the spring, whistled at the birds, and realized he was very, very dizzy. He hardly made it back into the apartment in time to grab the back of a chair and sit down. "Easy there," Gabrielle said. "You should stay in bed and rest today."

"I'll be all right." He shook his head experimentally. "It's not that bad. I do this a lot, you know."

"I know." She brought over the breakfast platter and put it onto a low table, pushing the whole thing near him. "Maybe you'll feel better with a little food in your stomach."

Joxer had no idea why Gabrielle was being so attentive, but he wasn't going to question his luck. Maybe it was because Xena wasn't there...oh, yeah, he was real lucky this morning. Mentally he shied away from thinking about Xena, and tried to come up with a harmless topic of conversation. "So...where's Xena?"

"Still with Nebula, as far as I know." Gabrielle poured some juice from a pitcher--all kinds of fresh fruits they had here in Sumeria, wonderful salads and soups and drinks they made from them--and offered him a cup before taking one herself. "There's been no follow-up attempt, of course. Xena didn't think there would be, but she just wanted to play it safe."

"Thank the gods," Joxer said softly. Nebula was safe, then. Xena wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. Someone knocked at the door in an odd pattern of loud and soft raps, and Gabrielle said, "Suleiman. Come on in."

The head Guard entered the room, and again Joxer noticed the silent grace, a pure warrior elegance he'd hardly ever seen although he'd spent his entire life around fighters. "Good morning, little one," he greeted Gabrielle. "How is our brave young friend?"

"Hardheaded as ever." Gabrielle gave Joxer an affectionate cuff on the shoulder, which thrilled him. "Perfectly normal."

"A little dizzy," Joxer corrected her.

"Like I said."

Joxer felt self-conscious in front of the Guard, the man's calm demeanor and quiet confidence making him more nervous rather than otherwise. It seemed that he was always falling down or being washed or some other kind of embarrassing thing in front of Suleiman, and now with Gab here too and her so respectful of her teacher, what should he do? "Uh, do you want anything to eat?" he asked. Sumerian tradition said you were always supposed to offer food and drink to a visitor. Joxer, who was fond of both, thought it was a very good tradition indeed.

"Thank you. I believe I will have a fig or two." The tall Sumerian pulled up a hassock and sat down, folding his long legs neatly under him. Gabrielle looked pleased at this, and Joxer realized he'd made her happy by the invitation. Wow. It was really a good morning so far, Gab-wise.

"Did anything come up last night?" Gabrielle asked.

Suleiman shook his head. "No. I have heard nothing save the expected--that it is beyond belief that anyone would try to kill the Queen."

"I thought lots of people were wanting to kill her. More or less." Joxer thought he probably shouldn't have spoken, but what about all those guards every time she went out into the plaza?

"Not those of noble families." Suleiman selected a fig and cut it open carefully with a small but exquisitely sharp dagger he pulled from a hidden sheath at his waist. "The gods treat those of royal blood differently than those who are not. They demand more from those that have received more, and they demand the most of all from the monarch, who is the gods' chosen representative on the earth. To attack the monarch is like attacking the gods themselves--it is the ultimate taboo. Such a thing has never been done before."

"So Khalil was the first." Joxer mused. "Man. That can't make him very happy."

Gabrielle and Suleiman gave him funny looks, and Joxer made a note to stop speaking his thoughts out loud. But it couldn't have made Khalil happy. He was so upset over the shame Nebula was bringing on the family he must not have been thinking straight, because wasn't he now shaming them more than she ever could? "I mean, okay, he tried to kill her and everything so he doesn't deserve to be happy, but I mean he's not happy anyway." More looks. "I mean."

More looks. Joxer suppressed a sigh and turned his attention to carefully dissecting a piece of flatbread. Well, there went all the good marks with Gab.

"When is it?" Gabrielle asked. This was not directed at Joxer, and so he kept his head down.

"The next full moon."

"The moon just passed full. That'll be weeks."

"The priests insist on it--and, gods help us, it'll be more effective that way. We'll have time to spread the word to the entire country, as well as to those of the fleet that can be reached." Suleiman shook his head and sighed, like an old man. "A bad business, little one. A bad business."

"Yeah," said Gabrielle in a small voice. Joxer looked at her; she was staring down into her lap and seemed to have lost her appetite. He turned to Suleiman, alarm growing in the back of his head. "What's a bad business? What about the priests, insisting on what?"

"The execution."

"Execution," Joxer repeated, not comprehending at first. "Exec--" He looked back at Gab, suddenly desperate to see in her eyes that he was jumping to the wrong conclusions again, but there was no comfort there for him. "Khalil's a traitor," she said softly, "and the penalty for that is death."

"Traitors are tied to a frame and flayed alive," Suleiman said, "and left for the kites and the crows to finish off. I have seen this once, when I was a small boy. I had hoped never to see it again." He sighed. "But it was Khalil's doing, and so he must face his fate."

Khalil's doing--but Joxer was the one who had stopped him getting away. So if Khalil was facing his fate, Joxer was the one who had put him there. And... Suddenly his head ached something awful. He put down the bread and took a sip of juice, his hand shaking badly.

Suleiman sighed again. "Well. Will you be joining me for practice before patrol today, little one? I so love seeing these tricks you come up with."

"And you so love slapping each and every one of them down," Gabrielle said cheerfully. "No, I'm going to stay in this morning, if it's all right with you. I have some things to take care of."

Suleiman looked at Joxer and smiled. "Be careful with them, little one. They are important things." He got up.

"They think they are," Gabrielle said. "Goodbye, guard Suleiman."

"Goodbye, guard Gabrielle. I shall see you later." Suleiman slipped out as silently and easily as he had entered, and Joxer and Gabrielle were once more alone in the room.

"Joxer?" Gabrielle said softly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I wish everyone would quit bugging me."

"You want some help with that?"

"Yes." He couldn't seem to put the mug down because his arm was shaking so badly. "Yeah, I think so."

Gabrielle's hands closed on his for a moment, guiding the mug to the table and prying his fingers away from it. "Must be a head-bumping thing," Joxer said loudly, "or probably it's that tea of Xena's making me shake, I told you she oughta..."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the execution," Gabrielle said softly. "I talked with Xena and Nebula last night after you were asleep, and found out then. But I didn't want to upset you."

"I'm not upset." Gabrielle looked at him, not with disdain, not with pity, but with honest sympathy, which was inescapable and really underhanded of her, gosh darn it. "I, I'm not upset, just because, y'know, I mean, it's like Suleiman said, he attacked Nebula, he deserves to be punished. Just because I caught him, that doesn't mean..." He swallowed. "That doesn't mean that I like, killed him or anything."

"No, of course it doesn't."

Joxer was quiet for a minute. "Then why does it feel like it does?"

Gabrielle was quiet in turn, then she started to speak. She raised herself half-out of her chair, as if she was going to approach him, and then the door opened without any warning. "Hello!" Nebula strode cheerfully into the room, a bundle under one arm, her habitual swagger subdued not at all by events. "Hey, studmuffin, how y'doing?"

"I'm fine," Joxer said, at the same time Gabrielle said, "He's fine."

"Let's take a look, shall we?" Nebula examined his head critically. Gabrielle did get up now, but Joxer noticed out of the corner of his eye she didn't seem all that happy. "Xena says he should rest up today," she said in a slightly irritated tone.

"Ah. He'll be fine." Nebula clapped him on the shoulder. "But Blondie's right, studmuffin, you've got to rest today."

It sounded like she was waiting for a question, so Joxer obliged. "Why?"

"Because tonight is a big party and you, hero-boy, are the guest of honor. And you, too," she added as an aside to Gabrielle. "It was the Bull House's idea; celebrate, give thanks that the monarch is safe, yadda yadda yadda. They can take care of the religious part of it. The rest of us are going to have a blowout. Feasting, dancing, the whole bit. All the Houses are invited and incredibly enough, all of them are coming."

"They're all glad you're okay, then?"

"They're all glad to get free food probably. But it's good enough. Learned that back in pirate days--let 'em party together first, they'll be more amiable to working together later on. And this is the first time I can remember them wanting to celebrate the monarchy instead of bitching about it, so I'm going to encourage them as much as I can. You two are the big heroes, so rest up today and dress nice. That goes for you too, Gabrielle."

"Well, thank you," Gabrielle said with markedly more venom.

"I mean I'll talk to Suleiman. You have the day off, and the pick of my closet if you want it. And as for you--" She tossed the bundle under her arm at Joxer, who caught it more out of surprise than anything else. "Wear a decent shirt. This one will do. The celebration will start an hour after sundown, so come by my apartments then..."

"Both of us," Gabrielle put in here.

"...and we'll make our grand entrance. See you tonight, guys." She leaned forward and kissed Joxer quickly, before either he or Gabrielle could react, and left with a wave over her shoulder.

Uh-oh, thought Joxer. He was carefully not looking at Gabrielle, and by not-looking looking he could see she was carefully not-looking looking at him in the same way. "Well," he said for lack of anything better to do, and opened the bundle. It unrolled into a shirt.

Gabrielle gasped, as if she'd been stung. Then she said, "That's a nice shirt." Her tone didn't sound very convincing.

"Uh...yeah," he agreed and knew he sounded just as unconvinced. It was a very nice shirt. Not that he'd had very many nice shirts in his life, but he could tell from the softness of the cloth and the meticulousness of the stitching that it was a very fine shirt.

It was also the color of saffron.

-19-

XENA RETURNED LATE that afternoon, somewhat less than happy about Nebula's plans. The day after an assassination attempt, throw the entire palace open to every inbred lunatic in the noble Houses? Okay, Nebula reveled in her reputation as the fearless pirate queen, but nobody was invincible forever. Xena had more reason to know that than anyone. And this sudden enthusiasm of the Court for their Queen, coming so soon after the next best contender to the throne had so conveniently been induced to attempt murder...

Eve made a small, sour noise and clung to her mother's hair as Xena pushed the door to her apartments over. "Gabrielle?" she called. "Joxer?"

"I'm out here," Gabrielle called. She was out in the garden, rinsing her hair out in the spring. Xena looked around. "Where's Joxer?"

"He went down to the baths. The party."

"Oh, you heard."

"Yes. That Woman, the..." The rest of what Gabrielle was saying disappeared as she put her head under the water once more. "...and she said we should look nice," she finished when she came up. "So he's at the baths, I'm doing my hair."

"Gabrielle. Listen to me. I want you to keep Joxer away from Nebula."

"What?"

"Something is going on around here and I don't like it, and I don't want Joxer involved. If he's not involved already." Xena marched back into the building, missing the interesting combination of expressions that wrestled for position on Gabrielle's face. "Tell him to stay away from Nebula for a few days, at least until I can sort it out."

Gabrielle shook her head dry, like a waterlogged dog, and trotted after Xena. "Why me? Why don't you tell him?"

Xena sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Gabrielle, I know you get all touchy about Joxer--"

"I do not."

"--but this is important."

"Then why don't you tell him?"

"Gabrielle, I don't have time to argue." Xena put Eve down on a table.

"I'm not arguing. I'm just saying--"

"Then do it."

"I really think he'd like to hear it directly from you," Gabrielle said softly.

"Oh, come on, Gabrielle." Xena started fishing through the wardrobe, picking up and dismissing wraps one by one. "Just this one thing. Okay? Then you don't need to speak to him again for a month if you don't want to. Happy now?" She pulled a deep blue wrap down, looked at it, shrugged, then tossed it over her shoulder and disappeared into the alcove she shared with Eve.

Eve looked at Gabrielle, and waved to be picked up. "Wahh," she observed.

"I know, honey." Gabrielle picked the baby up and held her closely. "Do me a favor, will you? You talk to Mommy and see if you can get her to talk to Uncle Joxer, okay?"

"I heard that, Gabrielle!"

Gabrielle sighed and said nothing further. Eve studied her face and arranged her own into a similar moue of dismay.

-----

The celebration took place in the centralmost section of the palace, where open halls surrounded the edges of the vast hanging gardens. This was the private kingdom within a kingdom of the House of the Lion, and allowing outsiders in it was almost without precedent. Only the most important of occasions allowed for visitors here; a coronation, a betrothal, a... royal funeral.

Joxer didn't want to think about that. In fact, he was really starting to wish he'd not learned quite so much about Sumerian tradition after all. He was beginning to suspect that the less he knew the happier he was. He wove uneasily through the crowd, trying like on that first day to be invisible.

But he couldn't make it work. He was too pale, standing out among the beautiful dark Sumerians like the single weed in a bed of perfect flowers. And the shirt. He was wearing the shirt, and he saw the look in people's eyes when they saw it, and he heard the whispers, and he was growing more and more nervous by the second. He tried to tell himself it was the way Nebula was showing her gratitude, by allowing him to wear the House colors for his heroism, but he couldn't quite convince himself of that--and he didn't want to think about what other reasons she might have had. He should have refused it, should have worn one of his own plain linen shirts or one of the brightly dyed dashikis instead, but he didn't want to hurt Nebula's feelings. Gods knew she must be feeling awful about her brother being--no, he'd forgotten, he didn't want to think about that, did he?

But everyone he met, even those he didn't formally meet, reminded him of it. They stopped him, in pairs and in groups, praised him for his effort and asked him for opinions on the weather and the crops and other such small talk people passed with those they didn't know but wished to. Some small part of Joxer's mind was able to sit back and laugh at this. All his life, he'd wanted to be a hero, have people look up to him--and now he had what he wanted, and he didn't want to be reminded of it at all. The small part of his mind laughed, but it was a hollow and weak laugh, and made him sad to hear it. It was a party. It was a great big huge party, because someone didn't die--and someone else was going to.

For just a single moment, Joxer envied the new dolphins at sea.

-----

Gabrielle wasn't sure why she had selected the outfit she had. Memories, maybe. She'd debated with herself and finally compromised by wearing it, but covering it up with one of the wraps, a plain subdued one in tones of tan and brown and green. She'd prefer not to stand out tonight if she could possibly avoid it.

Which was hard, with everyone there to see the woman, and outlander woman at that, who had saved the life of the Queen. They swarmed past Xena, regal and beautiful in her bright blue wrap that echoed the endless depths of her eyes, to speak with Gabrielle, small and drab as she was. They thanked her, praised her, and marveled at her, Gabrielle suspected, like they might marvel at a talking animal in a zoo. Xena watched this with cool detached amusement, and Gabrielle kept shooting her I'm-going-to-get-you-for-this looks that had no effect at all. The only people who stopped to speak to Xena were those attracted by Eve, riding happily in her mother's arms dressed in the same bright shade of blue. The Sumerians loved children and spoiled them rotten, and apparently the only way to escape the normal invisibility of being a Sumerian woman was to be a mother, and draw secondhand attention through your offspring. Xena seemed amused rather than otherwise by this, and allowed Eve to be clucked and cooed over at will.

Gabrielle didn't want to be clucked and cooed over, because it annoyed her. She was looking for Nebula, even though Nebula annoyed her as well, because Nebula had swooped down upon them as soon as they had arrived and hauled Joxer off. She'd only caught glimpses of them since, Nebula in equal parts regal and warm and bawdy--she had presence, Gabrielle had to admit, the charisma that made a good ruler--and Joxer unnaturally silent, looking nervous and twitchy, worse than usual. And she was worried, totally without justification but unable to rationalize it away. Worried, and instinct was telling her to get him away from Nebula and give him a chance to cool down. And heck, she could use a little air herself.

"Guard Gabrielle!" Kwame ran up to her. "Guard Gabrielle, there you are! Papa says you were a mighty warrior and saved the Queen, is it so?"

She laughed and caught the child up. "I guess it is."

Suleiman made his way through the crowd toward her. He was accompanied by all four of his wives and at least half-a-dozen of his other children. "Ah," he said, his face lighting up at the sight of her, "you have found him, little one. I knew you were good."

"I think he found me." Gabrielle put the already-squirming Kwame back down. The boy was a ball of lightning with legs. He ran back to his mothers, and then past them into the crowd, boasting all the while about how he'd met the mighty warrior Gabrielle.

"So. Are you enjoying your triumph?" Suleiman asked.

"It's not a triumph. I was just doing my job." Gabrielle knew the flush on her face was betraying her.

"And a good job it was, little one. No shame in acknowledging your accomplishments."

"Yeah, I guess." She gave up trying to hide her pleasure at the praise. "I just would have like to acknowledged it a little...more quietly, I guess. Crowds." She looked around. "Aren't you working security? What if..."

"I have men throughout," Suleiman assured her. "This is a night for you to enjoy, not to worry. Think nothing of it."

"It's just that Xena thinks..."

"Xena looks for enemies even where there are none, does she not?"

Gabrielle prickled instantly. "It's kept us alive all these years."

"Easy." He raised a hand, laughing. "I offered it not as a criticism. And have you not answered your own question? If Xena is looking out for trouble, what worry is there?"

He trapped her as neatly in conversation as he did in battle. Gabrielle marveled. "None, I guess. For one night," she amended.

"For one night," he agreed. "And where is your friend?"

"Nebula's got him."

"Ah." His eyes twinkled at her tone.

"Not like that."

"I see. I only ask," he said innocently, "because I have just spoken with Nebula not five minutes ago, and I did not see him with her."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'd better go look for him. This crowd..."

"Yes," Suleiman said solemnly. "Yes, you should."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"All right. And remember, little one--" he called after her as she moved off, "one night!"

She could hear his affectionate laughter following her. He misread the situation entirely, but then he didn't know Joxer, did he? Even under the best of circumstances it wasn't safe to allow Joxer to wander about loose.

And that unjustifiable worry was suddenly much, much stronger.

-20-

GABRIELLE WORKED her way to the end of the hall, where it lay open to the fabled gardens. The crowd milled about the open halls and the torchlit edges of the garden, but the great majority of the vast expanse of rock and tree and ancient silent stone was untouched by the noise and the crowd. Few wandered far outside the safety of the light, and the walkways into the interior were empty and beckoning. An escape route.

Moving on instinct again, Gabrielle made her way into the gardens. Once out of the torchlight she paused to adjust her eyes to the dimness, but with the moon just past full found she could see fine after a few moments. Clearly enough, in any case. She moved down the path, senses alert, watching, listening. A few steps away from the palace, and it was as if she was far off in some wood somewhere, totally alone--and the feeling was comforting rather than otherwise. How long had it been now? Months, at least. Months without being outside, no walls, no politics, no people, just earth and sky, Xena and Eve and-- Where was that pilgrim path? Her bare feet found its dirt surface before her eyes did, and she followed it into the wavering shadows. The ancient god sat as he had for millennia untold, and if he thought anything of it when she pushed her way past him he kept it to himself.

She'd expected it to be darker back here, the way Joxer had described it, but the treeless space was flooded with moonlight, setting it off against the darkness of the trees and the solidity of the rock. Gabrielle sucked in a breath. It was beautiful, as beautiful as Joxer had described, even more so. Why hadn't she listened, why hadn't she come out here and allowed him to show her--It took her eyes a moment to adjust enough to the shadows to see him sitting on one of the flat, fallen rocks in the god's shadow. "Joxer," she said softly.

He jumped at the sound. She realized his eyes had been closed, and maybe he'd been trying to meditate--or hide. "Hey," she said gently. "There you are."

He scrambled to his feet. "Gabrielle," he said, shifting uneasily, like a nervous stag, as she approached him. "You, uh...you look wonderful tonight."

"I...thank you. So do you. The new, uh..."

"Oh...this thing." He looked down at the shirt and plucked it nervously. "I feel kind of like a target in it."

"Not surprising."

"No. I'm not sure why Nebula would... I mean, y'know, it's the royal color and stuff, I shouldn't be wearing it."

"No, you shouldn't." Her tone was sharp enough to make him flinch, and she caught herself. "I, I mean...It's not a good color on you, it makes you look sallow. And you have such nice skin, you shouldn't...Oh, Joxer, come here." She fussed with the shirt collar, which had fallen far back on his neck, pulling the opening down his throat where it belonged and straightening the edges. "There. There, that's better, I..." She gave it a final pat and stepped back. "Well."

"Well."

"Yeah." The leaves of the ancient trees fluttered far above their heads. "So," Gabrielle said. "Why are you out here instead of in there with you admiring audience?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I... I just need some time for it all to set in, I guess. I mean...all those people."

"Isn't it what you always wanted?"

"Yeah," he said frankly, "but it's scary."

Gabrielle laughed before she could catch herself. "Sorry."

"It is kinda silly, isn't it?"

"No. No, it's not. They're all strangers. Heck, there aren't even any Greeks out there. It's not the same way it might be at home."

"Yeah. Home." Joxer's face was unreadable. "Gabrielle, is...do you think Xena's proud of me?"

"Of course she's proud of us. She's just Xena. She doesn't show it."

"She's always proud of you. I mean me."

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"I know I can't ever make up for, for messing up. With the sword and all..."

"Joxer," Gabrielle started to say, but he kept on. "I know I shouldn't expect she should want to accept me again, but I just can't...It's like I know it in my head, but not in here." He gestured at his chest, almost a clawing motion. "I miss it. I miss everything the way it used to be, and it's like I just can't get my footing back. It's like the world changes, y'know, every time I take a step..."

"Joxer," Gabrielle said softly. She took a step toward him and froze. Should she go get Xena? Should she leave him be? Should she let him talk? No emotion, she told herself, no reacting, stand back and see what's going on, a warrior doesn't...

"...it changes and I don't know where I am or who I am any more, it's like on that ship they took everything away from me, not just my sword but my, my self, and there's all those people out there happy because a man's gonna die, and I don't know who they're here to see, because me," he said, "because me, I'm not here any more, I..."

The words burned like coals flung from a volcano. Gabrielle tried her damndest to stop and think, what would help him, what should she say, what was the best way to

and then instinct took over, and she caught his flailing hands in hers and held him steady. "Joxer," she said softly. "Joxer, hush."

"Gabrielle, I..."

"I know how you feel." She did. The old dark waters surged up around her, but instead of pulling her down they were bearing her up. "I've been there. I understand. It gets better, Joxer." She entwined her fingers with his, feeling him twitch like a nervous horse as she gently tightened her grip. "All you have to do is hold on to the people who love you, and it gets better."

"Yeah." He wasn't looking at her, but at something far off and terrible. "Does it?"

For answer she stepped forward, that same swell of instinct moving her without conscious thought once more, and took him into her arms. "It does," she said. She fit neatly against him, her head tucked into his neck, her arms just long enough to fit around his chest. "We're here for you, Joxer. Don't worry."

He clung to her like a drowning man. "Xena doesn't--" he mumbled into her hair.

"Xena loves you. Eve loves you. I love you, don't ever think I don't." She tightened her grip, feeling him warm and alive beneath her, and thought of how close she'd come to losing that. "I told you. You can come to me. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I'm here." She heard the echoes of the words in her ears and wondered if she should have phrased it exactly that way, if maybe that was a mistake...

No, she knew with the same instinctive certainty that had carried her to him rather than allowing her to back off and shove it away. No, those were the right words. And she meant them.

He curled over her, his chin nestled in her hair, and there were a few long moments before he spoke. "Promise?"

"Promise? It's a threat."

He pulled back a little bit, and she did as well, looking up into his eyes, seeing him studying her with the same intensity. Something twitched at the corner of his mouth--a smile, a real live Joxer-smile. She hadn't seen one of those in weeks, and she reached up and patted it lightly. "There, see?" she said. The old Joxer, at least for the time being. The old Joxer, and if he could find himself for a little while he'd sooner or later be able to find himself for good. So much relief and affection washed over her it made her weak in the knees, and she fell against him with a small, relieved laugh. "That's my boy." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

It was quick, and she backed off and looked into his face, gauging his reaction. She couldn't read him. Had that joke gone too far?

Was it a joke at all?

"Okay," Joxer said. "Okay, you win." He held his hands up in surrender and took a step back, allowing her to back off without losing face. "I give up. I'm going back inside and find Nebula and..."

Find Nebula, like hell, Gabrielle thought and there was that same surge

and she was kissing him again. Seriously kissing. Seriously, exploringly, deeply, tongue-and-everythingly kissing him, and she didn't want to stop. He was the first one to break, taken by surprise, gasping for air. "Gabrielle..."

"If I hear one more word about Nebula I'll thump you, you got that? You stay here, with your..." Another kiss, longer and deeper than the first. "...friends."

All the voices that said stand back and think, that said be careful, that said don't allow emotions to get in the way were silenced. Oh, they still chattered in the back of her head somewhere, but all that advice from all those people had been for someone else, not for her. She had reached him where they couldn't. And, she slowly realized as she explored his mouth, his chin, his throat--he'd reached her in the same way.

She should be frightened. She was exuberant.

She pressed herself against him and took his face in her hands, memorizing the mismatched angles with her fingertips. He felt wonderful under her hands. The feel of him was wonderful, the feel and the smell and the taste. She kissed him repeatedly and he returned them, small short kisses between feeble attempts at talk. "Gabrielle," he kept saying, and stopping, and starting over again. "Gabrielle, I..."

"It's okay," she whispered against his cheek. "It's just me. It's safe." She didn't know whether she was talking to him or to herself, but it was true.

At that he stopped, still holding her so close she could feel the shudders of indecision running through him. Then he released her and stepped back, his head turned aside. "I'm sorry," he said to the ground, "I don't know what got into me, I..."

"Joxer," she said softly. "Joxer, look at me." When he did, she pulled the knot that held her overwrap loose and let it fall to the ground around her feet to reveal what she wore underneath, the small brown leather bra and thong she had earned in the Northern village all those months ago. "I told you I was saving this for a special occasion," she said, and had to stop and take a breath before continuing. "I think this counts."

Joxer stared for a long moment. No, he wasn't staring, he was...worshiping. Then in one motion he stripped off the saffron shirt of the Lion and tossed it aside. "It's the most special occasion of my life," he said softly and held out his hand to her. "The most special one that could ever be."

She took his hand, like a queen. "You realize, of course, this changes nothing. I mean about, you know..."

"I know." His smile was genuine. "Just friends."

"The very best," she said softly and allowed him to pull her into a good old-fashioned embrace. Tongue slid against tongue, skin against skin, and she pressed herself against his chest and belly to feel the smoothness against her own, ran her hands over his sides and back. Her fingertips slid over the raised edges of still-healing scars and a sob rose in her throat unbidden. Joxer broke off the kiss and whispered in her ear, worried. "Gabrielle? Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." She ran her hands gently over the spot again and blinked away sudden tears. "I... You're so beautiful, Joxer, did I ever tell you that?"

"It's a lie," he murmured. "It's a lie, you're the one who's..." He kissed his way down her neck, along the line of her collarbone, down along the exposed top of her breast.

"It is not," Gabrielle said, annoyed, "don't talk back when people give you a complimenoh." He nuzzled down farther, poking under the edge of the leather, not quite to the nipple but close enough to "Oh," Gabrielle said again intelligently, and then he undid the ties of the bra and it slipped away under his inquires, and she could not say anything at all for a few moments. Her knees weren't working. She fell against him, barely able to stand, and felt his erection pressing into her. No fair, she thought, shoving her hips forward, he gets to look and I don't? What's up with that? She drew her hands back around front, flattened them against his belly and slid them into the top of his pants. He gasped, his voice muffled against her breast; then as she pressed further he lifted his head and gasped again.

"Easy," she murmured. He was trembling again, but she doubted it was indecision this time. She undid the ties of his pants and eased them down his hips. He took over, shook one leg free and then the other, never removing his hands from her as though she might vanish if he were to try. No way, Gabrielle thought, and wrapped herself around him. His thing was warm and solid against her belly, and she herself was nothing but molten fire down there. "Now," she said. It was instinct again, that surge coming up from somewhere deep within herself and carrying her along. Now, now before those recriminating voices stopped her, now before she lost him, now before she lost herself. "Now," she repeated, a stubborn demand.

Wordlessly he sank to the ground and she followed, or lead, lying back on the cool mossy ground that did nothing to ease the heat in her. She heard herself panting softly, no longer able to talk, more aroused than she'd ever been in her life or could ever imagine to be. This was what people talked about when they said what it was like, this was-- Joxer lay against her, kissing her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts, her breasts themselves. He took her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it, and she cried out and her hips arched up off the ground. She clung to his head, holding it to her breast, as he felt down along her hip and pulled the thong free, the soaked leather slipping easily from between her legs. Her hips bucked again, following its passage, and then his hand slid down to replace it and she was lost. She moaned wildly, thrusting herself steadily against his fingers, sliding slick slippery and the feeling so strong, so many feelings, not just the wanting but the needing, the something dangerous and she choked back the cry in her throat, didn't allow it to escape. Joxer, it sang in her chest, Joxer, I lo-- and she came, hard, fast, her entire body shaking as if all the tensions of a lifetime were springing free at once. She gasped, disoriented, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears and almost covering up the sound of Joxer's voice, hoarse and rough and deep like she'd never heard it. He was moving over her, parting her knees with his own, saying, "Gabrielle. Gabrielle, I'm sorry, I have to..."

"Yes," she managed to gasp out, not an acquiescence, not a submission, but a request. "Yes, now," and she pulled one leg up, knee falling to the side, opening herself to him and then he was in her. He humped her hard, desperately, with what she recognized as that same desperate need she'd found in herself. She found herself matching his thrusts, trying to draw him into her as deeply as possible, thought maybe she came again but wasn't sure, and then he cried out her name like a dying man, gathered her to him and came for what seemed like hours, over and over, before he finally released her and leaned on his hands over her, spent, gasping, head hung low. Sweat beaded on his face and hair and dripped onto her chest, mingling with her own. "Gabrielle," he said again, as if her name was the holiest of mantrams, "Gabrielle, I..."

"Oh, Joxer." She reached up and took his face in her hands. He fell to the side and pulled her with him, so that they faced each other. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what? Don't be."

"I'm sorry. I wanted it to be so, if we ever, I mean, I never thought it would really..." He smoothed her damp hair away from her forehead. "And I thought, I wanted it to be so beautiful, not so messed up, not me so messed up I couldn't..."

"Joxer, you were wonderful. You are. Wonderful, and beautiful, and..." She caught whatever it was she was going to say before she could accidentally allow herself to know what it was, and replaced it with "...and one of the dearest people in the world to me." She returned the favor, pushing his hair back and watching it stubbornly fall forward again as it always did. "Don't worry."

Joxer allowed his glance to fall away for a moment in acknowledgment, then he looked at her with that expression on his face, that familiar mix of wonder and curiosity and openness that was just so...him it almost pained her to look at it. She brushed his face, hoping he could feel the same things in her touch she had felt in his. "I am so very, very happy to have you back with us," she said.

Oops. She saw the cloud pass over his face and heard as if it was spoken aloud: Xena. Well, she'd take care of Xena. And she'd have to take care of Nebula as well. Oh, yeah, she was gonna have fun taking care of Nebula.

Great. This was going to be even harder than the problem with the sword.

Joxer pushed himself up. "You're cold," he said and she was, the sweat on her skin leaving goose pimples behind as it dried. "Here--" He reached for the forgotten wrap and untangled it. It was like a toga, really little more than a length of cloth folded and tied, and he shook it out and wrapped it around her shoulders. She scooted up against him, wrapping the other end as best she could around him as well. There. One problem solved. But still. Xena, and Nebula--"What do you think they would do," she asked lightly, "if we went back inside like this?"

"Uh... Probably stare a lot."

"You're right. It wouldn't be a good idea." She leaned against him and sighed. "Though I suppose we have to go back inside sometime."

"No, we don't."

"We can't stay out here all night, of course."

"Why not?"

"We have to go back in and face and mmph." When the kiss ended, Gabrielle said," On the other hand, I can see your point." She shrugged the wrap off her shoulders.

"You'll get cold," Joxer said.

"Not for long. Not for long."

-----

Gabrielle crept back into the apartment shortly before dawn. Her back and hips were sore and her neck was stiff. She was going to have to pass on the exercising this morning, she thought ruefully. And maybe...

"Well, Eve," said Xena clearly through the curtain of her alcove, "I see Auntie Gabrielle is back."

Busted. Gabrielle gave up trying to sneak and plopped herself down on the couch. After a moment Xena entered, shaking her head and stifling a yawn. She'd been asleep, so at least she hadn't been waiting up. Good. Gabrielle already felt enough like a girl caught breaking curfew. Xena came over and sat down. "Well. Did we have fun at the party?"

"You could say that." Gabrielle leaned back, just managing to keep herself from wincing at the twinge in her back as she did so, and tried to look innocent.

"And exactly how much fun did we have?"

"Oh, you know. The usual."

Xena gave her The Look. "I can smell it on you," she said. She gave Gabrielle long enough to realize she wasn't going to be able to get away with anything and feel a little ashamed, then went on. "Was that a good idea, Gabrielle?"

"You're the one who told me to keep him away from Nebula."

"I mean for him. You know how he feels about you."

Now she really did feel ashamed. Xena saw it, and her voice became gentler. "I just want you to be sure you're doing the right thing."

"It had to be done sooner or later."

Xena sat back, a wry smile on her face. "You talk like it was inevitable."

"Maybe it was," Gabrielle said softly, picking a stray twig out of her hair and studying it for a moment, fascinated. "Maybe it was."

-21-

JOXER WISHED HE HAD LEFT with Gabrielle, but he couldn't. He had something he had to do. She left him with a lingering kiss and one of those strange little back-of-her-hand pats, and although it was too dark to see properly he sensed the sympathy in her eyes as clearly as if it were day. "I'll see you later on, okay?" was all she said.

"Yeah." He caught her hand and held it against his cheek for a moment, and then she slipped away silently into the darkness.

An hour, maybe two, then before the sun came up and he dozed on and off, every now and then opening his eyes to see the gradually lightening sky. His heart was soaring so high he thought it would outrun Artemis' glow and Apollo's chariot alike, and yet there was this heaviness holding him down. Once it was over and done with he'd be able to soar. Once it was done.

He waited for the sun to come up fully, then he washed himself off as well as he could in the small stream, pulled his pants back on, and carefully folded up the saffron-colored shirt into a neat bundle. He tucked it under his arm and made his way back to the palace.

He allowed his legs to take him in the most direct path to Nebula's chambers, not allowing his mind to interfere with his heading, and before he was even within sight of the door down the long corridor with its intricate mosaic floor he heard raised voices. For a moment he held out hope that Nebula had picked up a fancy boy from the party or maybe two, and had passed a nice, fun night. But as he grew closer and made out what she was saying the hope faded.

"You have no right," Nebula was saying, no, roaring, "no right whatsoever to interfere in my personal life! That's a violation of the royal prerogative!"

"I was not interfering." Suleiman's voice, not loud, patient, and sounding rather...ashamed? Joxer slowed as he approached, cautiously feeling out what was going on.

"You're sticking your goddamn nose in where it doesn't belong is what you're doing!"

"I advised the girl to go help her friend. Is that so wrong?"

"I know what kind of 'help' she's gonna give him," Nebula snarled.

"You know this is unreasonable."

"I'm Queen. I have a right to be unreasonable."

"Nebula... my Queen. I am sorry I upset you, but really...the young people belong together, do they not? Like to like. You know the Court would never stand for it." Nebula didn't answer, and he said, "An outlander, and an ex-slave? The Houses..."

"Gods of the deep, Suleiman," Nebula groaned. "I wasn't going to run off and marry him. I was just having some fun."

"If you were just having some fun, then why are you so angry at me?"

That was the kind of word-trap Gabrielle was always complaining that Suleiman pulled on her, and it silenced Nebula momentarily just as it silenced Gab--although Joxer couldn't imagine Gab being silenced for long in any kind of conversation. And thinking of Gab reminded him of what he had to do, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to walk up to the door before he could change his mind. He knocked firmly, three times.

The door opened, and Nebula was there. Her eyes flicked over him, taking in the shirt under his arm, his bare chest, his face. He forced himself not to glance away as she did. There was a moment as if she was sizing him up, then she jerked her head to the side. "Come in. We were just talking about you."

Hesitantly he entered the room. Suleiman was standing stiffly its center, hands behind his back, and his face was warrior-unreadable as he glanced at Joxer. Joxer looked at Suleiman, back at Nebula, took a deep breath. "Your Highness," he said carefully, sincere in his respect, "I... I need to talk to you about something."

Nebula looked over his shoulder at Suleiman, and whistled sharply, gesturing with one hand--go. The Guard nodded, bowed deeply in a formal submission gesture, and left.

Now that Joxer was here, he didn't know where to start. Nebula walked around to stand in front of him, looked him up and down again, and then took the shirt from under his arm. "So," she said. "This is the big dump scene."

"Nebula, I--"

"She doesn't love you, you know." Nebula took the shirt and placed it carefully on a table, as if it was something infinitely precious.

"I..."

"You're the one who told me that, remember? You said you were trying to live with it, remember?"

And Nebula had said she understood, because of Iolaus, and he remembered that too. But it would be mean to say it, and gods knew, he didn't want to be mean.

"So she goes and throws you one mercy fuck, and bang! you're at her feet again? Bad form, Joxer." Nebula turned around, hands on her hips and jaw set, and for a single moment Joxer was astounded how very much she looked like Gabrielle when she was angry. "I know you're a little dizzy, but I didn't know you were outright stupid."

"I am stupid." It was the first sentence he could say. He looked at the floor, at his feet still covered with the dark rich earth of the grotto, and could not face her for his misery. "I am, I'm stupid and I'm thoughtless, and I know it doesn't help any to say I'm sorry, because all my life people have been saying that to me, and I know it doesn't help. And I never...I never would have, if I'd had any idea Gabrielle would...or that you might, y'know, start..."

"Start what?"

"Start, um... more than fun."

Nebula snorted. "Of course it wasn't anything more than fun. Honestly, guys and their egos. They all think they own the greatest dick in the world."

He looked up, suddenly hopeful again. He'd just been being stupid and full of himself, like usual, then, it really wasn't--and he saw her eyes, and he knew her too well now, and he looked away again.

After a moment Nebula sighed. "Okay. I have to at least try to save face."

"I understand."

"It's more politics. You know how it is." She returned to the table and unfolded the shirt, then folded it again. "I'll make them think I gave you to Blondie for a reward. They'll understand that. Then I don't look so... Well."

"You don't," Joxer said softly. "If anything, it's me they'll laugh at. Me, practically a slave, a nobody, following the Queen around as if..."

Nebula turned back to him and took hold of his chin, silencing him. "As if she could really fall for you." She held him for a moment, then pulled his face to hers and kissed him for a long, sad minute. Then she released him, and he had no idea what to say as she turned and walked to the sideboard. "She better be good to you."

Joxer sighed. "I'll stay away," he promised. "I'll keep out of sight, won't..."

"The hell you will. I'm going to make you an official member of Court, the same way Blondie and Xena are. Not as bodyguard, but as a political advisor. I still need your advice, and I respect it, and as for that other stuff--well, I'm a grown woman, I can cope." She poured two cups of water. "Now then. Have some breakfast, then go and put on some goddamn clothes. I want you in the Court session along with Xena this morning. We have to call another formal Court for Khalil's sentencing, and I don't want a thing going wrong."

Joxer took the cup she offered him. "Thank you," he said softly. "I don't deserve it."

"Oh, you deserve it all right. You've earned the position."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, as for that, just remember one thing, studmuffin." Nebula lifted his chin again with a finger, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I'm the Queen," she said as carefully and dangerously as Xena, "and I don't give up, and I don't like to lose. You tell Blondie that." Then she let him go, and grinned the wolf grin. "Between having to deal with you and having to deal with me," she announced cheerfully, "that woman's gonna be in for the ride of her life."

-22-

"What are you smiling about?" Xena asked, scowling.

Eve beamed back at her mother.

"The world is changing, Evie, and Mummy doesn't like it." Which was a silly thing to say to Eve, whose birth had set a lot of those changes in motion, but Xena didn't care. And the happy Eve was taking no offense. She gurgled, and waved her arms.

"That's easy for you to say."

Xena walked down the long marble halls, carrying Eve in her arms because for some reason that morning it had occurred to her that soon the child would be too big to carry like this. So she and Eve walked to Nebula's audience chamber, greeted with smiles and nods from everyone they met. Eve returned every grin and every wave. Xena was too preoccupied to notice, save that there seemed to be an awful lot of happy people around this morning. Gods knew why.

As if she didn't have enough to worry about already, now Gabrielle had to go and pull this. Xena was frankly not surprised--she'd been expecting it someday--but as she'd told Gabrielle, it was just that this wasn't the time. Now it was going to raise an additional complication with Nebula, and things with Nebula were complicated enough as is. And the Queen and Gabrielle already didn't get along very well. Maybe now they will, Xena thought before she could stop herself, now that they have something in common.

Eve laughed, and clapped her hands.

"Oh, not you, too."

Yes, she definitely had to sit Joxer down and have a talk with him. Soon.

But later, she decided as she nodded to the Guards standing outside the audience chamber. They pulled the doors open for her and she walked in.

"Good morning," said Nebula absently. She was poring over an unrolled scroll on a table full of them, as well as some odd objects; stacks of sheets of parchment, bound together at one side. "How do you think the celebration went?"

"I didn't see any signs of trouble. From those who were there, anyway. I don't know how many Houses sent representatives."

"All of them. Joxer counted them off. And the houses with the greatest enmity to the Lion House, the Leopard and the Bull, sent more than anyone. As near as I can figure, Joxer was right--he told me about a maneuver they do in Athens, where you can get your enemies on your side, just so long as they see you siding with them against your own...allies." She sighed and rolled the scroll up. "Do you know how long it's been since there's been a traitor executed? Nobody even remembers the procedure any more."

Xena sat down. "Maybe that means the procedure is outdated," she said carefully. "Did Joxer tell you? In Athens, they hardly ever execute. Instead, they banish for life. It's a fate worse than death," she couldn't keep from adding, "for Athenians, anyway."

Nebula shook her head. "No. I can't do it. As much as I want to. The Houses are screaming for blood, and so are the people. The Houses and the people agreeing on something! These are interesting times, Xena."

"You didn't want to rule this way."

"But I want to rule. If I don't give on this one thing, I could lose on everything else. And he is a traitor. Much as I don't want to admit it, he is a traitor...and he did try to kill me."

"Yes." Xena sighed. "And we still don't know if he acted alone. We..." She heard the door open, and looked around. The Guards were letting Joxer in. He wasn't wearing the saffron shirt, Xena noted with some relief. He was back to wearing that same kind of plain off-white linen shirt that Gabrielle habitually wore, workmanlike and practical and, to the Sumerians' eyes, unattractively plain. Surprising, now she thought of it. Why wouldn't Joxer be dressed like a peacock and trumpeting in a peacock's shrill unpleasant tone to everyone in sight about his grand act of heroism? That would be a lot more like him than this...almost hangdog look he was wearing, as if he was expecting to be scolded for something. She really had to talk to him. Soon.

But she didn't even say good morning to him, or he to her. Eve frowned.

"I don't know," Nebula said. "What do you think, studm--Joxer."

"About what?" He approached the table cautiously and sat down, as if expecting one or the other of them to bite.

"If Khalil acted alone."

"I don't see how he couldn't have. Everyone seems honestly shocked by the break with tradition. At least that I've heard."

"Still," said Xena, "I think it would be best if you were to have a guard on you at all times until it's over. For all we know, someone might think executing a crown prince is just as taboo as murdering a queen. I'll stay with you nights, and get someone you trust--and someone who's good--to stay by you during the day."

"Suleiman," said Joxer.

"No. Suleiman's too valuable in the field," Nebula said, "and I need him to tell me what the Houses are doing. How about Benar, or--"

"Gabrielle," Xena said firmly. "She's alert, smart, the most capable fighter you have aside from me and Suleiman--and if there are any more conspirators, they might dismiss her for being an outlander and a woman, and become careless."

Nebula frowned. "But--"

"But nothing. Didn't you bring us here just for this purpose?" Gabrielle was unquestionably the best choice after Xena herself or Suleiman, and it wouldn't hurt either of them to have the Queen showing favor to the woman who saved her life. And Gabrielle would be forced to get over whatever enmity she might have with Nebula, as well--and any overreaction she might be having because of it and taking it out on poor Jox. Xena watched all this pass across Nebula's face in an instant. The woman was canny, and tricky, and willing to suppress personal feelings for the sake of effectiveness. Xena respected her highly for it. It took Nebula only a moment to make the decision. "Gabrielle it is, then. I'll have the Guard bring her and Suleiman here, and we'll talk over how we're going to work this out. Joxer, I want you at every Court between now and the execution. Up on the dais, where I can talk to you. I'll make the announcement about appointing you to Vizier at the public audience this afternoon--I want you there, too--and I want Gabrielle in place by then as well. The best thing to do in a situation like this is to establish everything quickly, before people have time to get their bearings again, and go forward." She rolled up the scrolls. "I also want you and Blondie--" she looked at Xena--"Gabrielle, excuse me, she reads, doesn't she? to go over the laws in your spare time. See if there's anything we might miss in making the preparations. I want this done perfectly, every tradition fulfilled, every god appeased, every single stupid footstep of every single stupid ritual done to the letter. If I have to do it then, by the gods of the deep, I'm going to do it right. Now..." She looked around the room. "Who did I leave out? Oh." She reached into her belt-pouch and pulled out a dried fig. "Eve, I'm appointing you Royal Guardian Of The Candy. I expect you to test it regularly for quality, you got that?" Eve cooed greedily, and Nebula handed her the fig. "Shhh," she said. "Don't tell your mom." She walked back across the room to the door, opened it and spoke softly to the guards.

Xena and Joxer sat at the table and did not quite look at each other. There were a dozen things Xena wanted to ask him, and every single one of them was a touchy subject. What was up or not up with him and Nebula? Was he okay with this business with Gabrielle? Why wasn't he willing to look at her lately? And most of all, how was he holding up? And she couldn't ask that, because to ask that would mean to admit she knew, and to admit she knew... She knew what Joxer was like, she knew how sensitive he was about his image. He'd never be able to live it down if he thought she knew. It was best not to mention it. Yes, absolutely. Best not to mention it, because he'd maintain his dignity that way, and after a while, he'd get over it. Warriors usually did. And Joxer had a warrior's heart, deep down. He'd work past it.

And it was just best for her not to say anything.

Eve made an unhappy noise. Xena jiggled her slightly, but the baby fussed and refused to be comforted. "Maybe she's hungry," Joxer said, and looked as if he'd startled himself with his own words.

"She's just fussing. Babies fuss." Although Eve never did. Xena frowned at her daughter, and Eve frowned back, mimicking her mother, almost as if she was trying to--Nebula came back to the table. "Suleiman and Gabrielle will be along shortly," she said, then looked from one to the other and cranked an eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Xena glanced at Joxer's face, turned slightly away from her, and something missing from his aura that should be there. "Nothing at all."

-23-

THE QUESTION HAD BEEN burning at Gabrielle's mind all day. It had burned when she and Suleiman had arrived in response to their summons, it burned all during the afternoon audience worse than the midday sun itself, it burned during Nebula's private meetings with Suleiman and the priests from the sea gods' temple and the household staff during the afternoon, it had burned during a quiet post-audience supper she had been invited to share with the Queen, and it was not until now, arriving back in her apartments with the late afternoon sun streaming in from the garden and Joxer gone to gather scrolls from the law library and Xena getting dressed after her nap to go stand guard over Nebula during the night, that she could finally have it answered. "What the hell were you thinking?" she squawked.

"About what?"

"You know very well about what. About having me become the personal guard of that, That Woman." Gabrielle wanted to throw something down in disgust, but dressed as she was in the minimal and bootless garb the Sumerian climate required she didn't have anything to spare. This did not help her mood. "Having to stand by her all day while she..." Her imagination threw up a couple of truly appalling pictures and then went blank, leaving her gaping.

"While she plots whatever plots she's plotting." Xena pulled on her boots; nobody told Xena what or what not to wear, climactic forces or no. "Two birds with one stone here. Not only do we protect Nebula from whoever else might be after her, we protect ourselves from Nebula. If she's up to anything, we'll have advance warning."

Gabrielle blinked. True, she had a lot of animosity towards Nebula, but it was on more of a personal kind of level. "You really think she's going to try something? I..." She knew how stupid it was to say it, but couldn't stop herself. "I thought we were friends. Well, I thought you and her were friends, anyway."

"We are," said Xena, but nevertheless buckled on her breastplate as usual. "But Nebula's Queen, don't forget, and she's trying to do something that's never been done before in this country. Hell, anywhere, as far as I know. She has both reason and need to do whatever she has to, if she wants to achieve her goal. And that wouldn't preclude sacrificing her cousin, her brother...or us. Don't forget, we didn't arrive here under our own power in the first place."

"What do you think..."

"I don't think anything specific. Yet. But I still don't like the situation. That's why I'm going to be watching her at night and you're going to be watching her during the day. Once Khalil is executed, we'll be able to find out where we stand. But until then, if anything goes wrong..." She let the sentence trail off ominously, probably for effect, but Gabrielle followed her thinking. If anything went wrong, it would be just as easy to blame the outlanders as it was to credit them in the first place. "So what do we do now?" Gabrielle asked in a properly chastened voice.

"What she wants. You and Joxer work on those scrolls, make sure there's no surprise loopholes anybody can spring on us at the last minute. Tell him to make sure he pays attention at Court and during the audience, and I want him to tell you or me everything he hears. Write it down if you have to. And for gods' sakes, stay alert. There's still too many people with something to gain if Nebula should be killed--and now that the taboo's been broken, it may make it easier for them to consider doing so." She strapped her sword to her back and took up her chakram. "I'll see you in the morning. If anything happens, I'll send word."

"Okay. Night, Xena."

"Night. Sleep well." The warrior woman shouldered her diaper bag and her baby, and left the room.

Great. Just great. Everything Xena said made perfect sense. It was smartest for Gabrielle to stick close to Nebula, and it was safest for everybody in the long run. It just was so damn awkward, though. Gabrielle hadn't really hit it off great with Nebula even that first time she'd met her, with the drinking and the assassins and the tattoo parlor and everything, and ever since Nebula's "invitation" brought them here the tension had just gotten worse. Nebula's laugh raked on Gabrielle's nerves, her coarseness made her blush, her undisguised condescending amusement at Gabrielle's height and hair and dress and literary ambitions infuriated her beyond measure. And then, after all that, then she had the fucking nerve to go and lay her hands on...

"Gabrielle!" The voice came from outside as if he'd been waiting for the cue. "Gabrielle, could you get the door, I..."

She walked over and opened the door. Joxer more or less staggered in under an overly large armload of scrolls that was threatening to slip out of his grasp at any minute. "I made it," he announced proudly. "I didn't think I..." and the next minute the scrolls were all over the floor. Joxer looked at them sadly. "Okay," he amended. "I almost made it."

"Good gods, what do Sumerians do? Crank out laws for fun?" Gabrielle helped him pick the scrolls up, and together they made a large ungainly stack of Sumerian law on the table. "How many are there?"

"Oh, it gets better. These are just the ones that deal with the protocol for a traitor's execution. The actual execution, mind you. The ones for the parts leading up to it--I'm going to need a wheelbarrow."

"Can you read Sumerian?"

"Not enough to do more than decipher a few of the titles. How about you?"

"Barely." Gabrielle groaned. "Well...this is going to be fun. That Woman," she said without thinking, and plopped down on the couch.

And there it was, out in the open. Oh, shit, Gabrielle thought. Joxer rearranged the scrolls from one pile into another and then back again, for no apparent reason. Finally he said hesitantly, "I, uh, went to see her this morning."

Gabrielle closed her eyes. Don't tell me. I don't want to know, she thought. For some reason she couldn't breathe well all of a sudden.

Joxer continued to pile scrolls, not looking around. "I gave her back the shirt. I, um... I can't. Gabrielle, I know you said just friends and everything, and I don't expect anything more than that, but still, I... I just can't. Not after...Well. Anyway. I broke it off with her, so she might be mad at me, so if she tells you to tell me to stay away...well, that's why."

The momentary spasm passed, and Gabrielle took a deep breath. The air was sweet. Broke it off? "I, uh... That's good. I mean, it's not good, I mean... I mean, Xena says..." Oh, good one, Queen of the Tactless. Bring up Xena. "Darn it," she said and allowed that by-now familiar surge to take over, wondering what it would have her say. "I won't pretend I'm sorry. I didn't like you being with her, I just... I don't trust her, Nebula. She's always up to something."

"It's politics. She just wants to have people she can pal around with like the old days. It's kind of sad, I think."

Gabrielle was going to say something sharp, but his words brought her up short. She remembered that night, the one she'd spent prickling at Nebula--and yes, they did have fun, didn't they? Nebula all laughing and kidding with Morrigan and Joxer, teasing Gabrielle mercilessly, even playing word games with Brigid. Not the kind of thing you could get to do much, when you were a Queen. "I never thought of it that way," she said. But it was true, and Joxer had seen it. Joxer was good at that, he often saw where Gabrielle was at even when her words and her actions belied it, and... and he'd done the same thing with Nebula, and the realization made her distinctly and furiously jealous. She growled more at herself than anything else, then got up from the couch.

"What?" said Joxer.

"Nothing."

"You're mad." There, he was doing it again. Looking right through her.

"I am not. Not at you, anyway." She sighed, exasperated, and wished again for something to throw.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, for pity's sake, Joxer, stop apologizing. I said it wasn't you."

"Okay, okay," he said, "you don't need to snap my head off."

"I'm not," she snapped before realizing how much he was suddenly sounding like his old self again. He was coming back, just for moments at a time...but he was coming back. "Okay, I am," she said quickly, before it got out of hand, and found him staring at her. "Whatever," she explained. More staring. "Uh, um... would you like some water?"

Joxer shook his head slightly, and blinked. "Yeah. I get way punchy being out in that sun all afternoon."

"I told you, you need to make sure you drink a lot of water when you come inside." She walked to the sideboard and poured him a cup from the ewer the servants kept filled at all times.

"Yeah, but I get so punchy I forget to remember."

"Typical Joxer." She gave him the water. "Here."

He drank in several long gulps, and she made a note to nag him about drinking enough if she was going to be around him during the day. Joxer just didn't take sun well, with his skin and all, and... she was going to be around him all day, wasn't she? If he was going to be at Court in an official position. What was Nebula up to with that, anyway?

Joxer gathered himself and nodded his thanks. He put the cup down on the table by the pile of scrolls and gazed at them for a long moment. "So," he said. "We're going to do it."

"Wh--oh." Execute Khalil, she realized. "Yeah. Looks that way."

"Gabrielle, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"If someone tries to kill someone else, that makes them a murderer, right?" He fingered one of the scrolls but did not pick it up.

"An attempted murderer, anyway."

"So if someone doesn't kill somebody themselves, but gets someone else to do it for them, what does that make them?"

Gabrielle walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder before answering. "Joxer, you have nothing to do with Khalil's death."

"I caught him."

"He made his choice when he threw the dagger. He knew what the consequences were."

"Yes, but..."

"But you still feel responsible, because you're a good, caring person, and you think about consequences, and about how other people feel." She put her arms around him and leaned into his shoulder. "And people like Khalil don't. That's how they become murderers."

After a moment he lay his hand atop one of hers as it rested on his chest. "Gabrielle--thanks."

"I know it doesn't help. I wish it could."

"I wish I could stop being so weak."

Gabrielle sighed. "Joxer, why do you insist on being so contrary?"

"Hmn?"

"I mean, why do you always insist your very best qualities are your weakest ones?" She moved around front so she could face him. "You have mercy. Only the strongest people have mercy. You're strong, in your heart, where it counts. You do the right thing, even when it's hard. You're devoted. You're kind." She gave him an affectionate kiss. "You're sweet." Another kiss. "You're sexy." Whoops, better not say that one aloud. Or had she?

He was kissing her back, so she had. A deep, gentle, kiss, not demanding, not ordering, but offering. It shook her to her core, and she pulled back. "I'm sorry," Joxer said, "I know you don't want to..."

She shook her head. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Don't apologize for being you, Joxer. Not ever. And especially...not now." She kissed him again, and she was gone. Okay, so she'd been gone on the first one. Technicalities.

He pulled her close and nestled his head against her neck, not doing anything else for the moment, just clinging to her. There was need there, but this was Joxer and not any other man, and there was no demand behind it, no insistence. She leaned into him for a long pleasant moment, enjoying the deep warm musky smell and the feel of his body against hers and his arms around her, surrounding her. Not an intimidating feeling at all, but comforting. Then the comfort started to vanish, or rather the discomfort started to grow, and she made the first move, pulling up his shirt in back and sliding her hands over his skin.

At that he started nibbling where her jaw met her throat, a particularly sensitive spot. She shivered and leaned against him, allowing him to hold her up while he worked her neck for a few moments and then when she gasped cutting her off with a deep, long kiss. He ended it with obvious reluctance and remained nose-to-nose with her, breathing heavily, his hands starting to move over her body as hers were already moving over his. "Gabrielle," he said softly, his breath tickling her face, "I want to make you happy." A quick kiss. "I want to please you." Another. "Tell me what to do, I..."

He needed her comfort right now, her acceptance, and yet he was asking her what she wanted. She was so touched she could almost...No, she thought, savagely blinking the tears away. No crying, silly girl. Instead... "No," she said quietly, looking into his eyes to make sure he understood what she was saying. "Let me." She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, then met his eyes again. She put her hands underneath the hem of his shirt again and pulled it up over his head. He bent forward and raised his arms, helping her, and stood up once it was off, shaking the hair out of his eyes before looking at her quizzically, half-anticipatory, half-fearful. She approached him and laid her hands on his waist, and he shivered. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked softly.

He shook his head firmly, unable to speak, and she smiled. Carefully, slowly, she slipped her fingers into the top of his pants, undid the ties, and eased them down his legs. She knelt as she did, her hands trailing along his thighs and calves to his ankles. She eased his feet up, first one, then the other, and pulled them out of the cloth. Not a good idea to let him kick it away, he might get tangled up and trip. And anyway--

And anyway he stood naked and revealed before her. His pale skin almost gleamed in the low warm glow of the fading sunlight, like polished marble. But warmer. Much, much warmer. She stroked his calves, then, with some difficulty avoiding the obvious next step, forced herself to her feet and started examining him.

She started at his chest, studying every inch of skin. He was stiff with nervousness and tension at first and she was careful to move as gently as possible, keeping her touch light and her growing desire reined in with careful deep yogic breaths. This was his moment, not hers. Time enough for that later. She moved carefully around his body, feeling him tense instinctively when he could no longer see her, but slowly relaxing again under her touch. He flinched when she moved to areas still healing, not in physical pain, and she lingered there until he relaxed once more. It was almost as hard for her to look as it was for him to allow her to see, and she had to consciously draw her breath even deeper into her belly, remaining calm, pushing away the fury. Not now. Later she could rage in private, but not here, not now. Instead she ran her hands carefully over every mark, every scar, stroking the old pains away. And there were dozens of scars, not only the ones Hassim had put there but old faded ones as well. Gods knew where Joxer had been in his life, what he had done, what had been done to him. His pale skin didn't show the scars well and at a distance he appeared unmarked, but up this close she could see, and grieve. Joxer was such a harmless soul--who could bring themselves to hurt him? She moved around in front of him again, ran her hands over his chest and down his arms--and froze when her left hand encountered the still-raised, still-vivid scar on the inside of his right forearm. For a moment she couldn't breathe, and fear of what might have happened kept her from remembering what had. Then she felt the warmth beneath the skin, the blood pulsing under the surface, and she took his hands in hers and leaned forward and kissed him, putting as much acceptance and affection into the kiss as she could. He leaned into it and returned the kiss, again not with demand, but with gratitude.

Gabrielle licked carefully at his chin, his neck, his throat, lingering for a moment, making it clear what she intended. "Joxer," she said softly, "do you want--"

He was trembling once more, obvious desire warring with instinctive fear. After a long moment he said, "I trust you." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "I trust you, Gabrielle. Do whatever you want."

"Only if you want."

He nodded wordlessly. Gabrielle took a deep breath herself and started slowly once again to kneel, laving his chest and belly with a trail of kisses as she did so, still holding his hands in hers. He tightened his grip, steadying himself, as she lowered herself to her knees. As she reached her goal she almost broke her rhythm, unwillingly, but not surprisingly: okay, she thought, what do I do now?

Well, skin was skin, wasn't it? She continued the line of kisses out along the length of him and licked it carefully, twice, from root to tip. He moaned, a low, guttural sound she'd never heard from him before, and it excited her beyond measure. No. Deep breath, another deep breath. Save.. it.. for.. later, right now...

Wishing she'd done some research before getting this far, Gabrielle allowed instinct to take over once again and hoped it picked the right approach.

Apparently it did. Joxer cried out, again that same wild moan, and his hands clenched painfully tightly around hers, and his hips started moving--this complicated matters--and Gabrielle tried to get everything into proper synch. She didn't think she was doing very well, but Joxer apparently thought otherwise. She sensed the point at which the last barrier fell and he surrendered entirely, no longer holding anything back, no longer hiding, and she would have cried with joy for him herself if she wasn't temporarily kept from saying anything. Instead she increased what she thought was working best, and suddenly he came. Suddenly, powerfully...messily.

Well, okay, Gabrielle thought, rubbing her face on her shoulder, that's going to take a little more practice. Joxer was leaning over her, half-supporting himself on her hands, gasping for breath. Then suddenly he gathered her up and pulled her to him. "Gabrielle," he whispered, covering her face with kisses, trying to kiss and talk at the same time and almost succeeding. "Gabrielle, my angel, my warrior, my queen. Oh, gods." He kissed her over and over, almost holding her clear of the floor and good thing too, because her legs were not in working order right now. "What can I do, how can I ever..."

"I'm sure you can think of something," she gasped. The desire she'd pushed down was now not only back but clamoring furiously for attention. "You....I trust you, Joxer." It was true. The same dam in her had burst along with his, and there was nothing she would not allow him to see. "I trust you. Do whatever you want." She flung her arms around his neck, biting desperately at whatever skin she could reach. "Do whatever.. oh. Yes. Do that. Do it some more, I... yes."

Then she gave herself over to him, and mind ceased entirely for a while.

-24-

THE SUN WAS LONG GONE, and the garden softly dappled in moonlight and shadow. Joxer lay in bed with a sleeping Gabrielle curled contentedly around him. But still he lay awake, wondering, marveling. So this is what it's like, he thought, when you've arrived. When you're finally there.

-25-

A FEW MORE DAYS PASSED, and a few more nights, and Xena and Gabrielle made a joke of the way they passed each other, morning and evening, on their way to and from Nebula's side. It was good there was something to joke about, because Gabrielle was finding her enforced time with Nebula awkward and strained, and the Queen seemed to feel the same way. They tried to exchange pleasantries and talk about weather and gossip and what was the best kind of draw cut to use with a curved dagger and all, but they just couldn't seem to connect. Nebula seemed preoccupied, not in the manner of a woman plotting plots but in the manner of a woman with too many things on her mind. Gabrielle, initially tense and waiting for the habitual put-downs, the teasing, and the inevitable fencing over Joxer, found herself starting to feel an unwilling sympathy for the Queen. Yes, Nebula was irritating, yes, Nebula had her eye on Gabrielle's lov--friend, yes, Nebula was arrogant and overbearing and coarse and crude--but she was not the callous person Gabrielle had thought her to be after all, and more and more Gabrielle found herself wishing she could somehow bridge the distance between them enough to offer at least a little comfort. This was odd.

In fact, everything was odd, generally speaking. Gabrielle puzzled over it for a few days. Odd, not an unpleasant or ominous odd, but something missing. She was surprised, one night, to roll over from a dream and bump against Joxer and realize what: it was fear. She no longer had fear.

She'd had a lingering, hovering fear for years, not wanting to remember everything that had caused it, not allowing herself to recall those times, but it was always there. The fear that said she would remember all the horrors someday when she least expected it, the fear that said she'd never escape them, the fear that said there was still worse to come, the fear that said happiness couldn't last and all that waited at the end of the road was death or worse.

And now the fear was gone. Vanished, as if it had never been. Joxer saw her fear, knew her fear, and didn't flinch from it, didn't try to pretend it didn't exist, didn't tell her to shove it away. He simply accepted it the way he accepted all the rest of her--without reservation, without expectations. Without strings, like he'd said so long ago. So this was what he meant.

It meant safety. It meant no fear, and it meant some quiet warmth in her heart that was too subdued for joy and too enthused for mere happiness. This can't go on, she'd try to tell herself; something will happen, it will stop, may as well get used to the idea. But the part of her that reined her emotions in seemed to be losing its grip lately, and she had taken the bit in her teeth and was frankly running with it.

It'll come back, she thought, looking fondly at Joxer's relaxed, content face as he slept; the control will come back someday, but until then I'm bloody well going to enjoy myself while I can. And anyway, in a few days after the execution everything will be back to normal, and then...and then I'll decide.

Gabrielle curled against Joxer's side and went back to sleep, a sound, good sleep, with no dark dreams to disturb it.

-----

There, see, thought Xena, everything worked out fine. She thought this to herself rather than saying it aloud, because whenever she said it aloud Eve made that little frowny face of hers and Xena found herself getting into an argument with her own baby, which drew the kind of looks she had to drive off with one of her own.

Eve, sitting in the playpen Nebula had put in the anteroom of her chambers, made a grumbling noise.

"Reading minds is no fair," Xena said, annoyed.

Eve made the frowny face.

But really, it had worked out fine. She knew Joxer would perk up on his own after a while. All he needed was a little time. A little time, and a little...whatever. At least he was away from Nebula. Nebula tended to chew them up and spit them out, and she hadn't wanted that to happen to him. He deserved better. Maybe not as good as he was getting, but still better.

Gabrielle seemed happy enough, though, and if Gabrielle was happy about it then Xena wouldn't worry herself. Gabrielle was a big girl. She could take care of herself.

"See," Xena said aloud. "It did all work out fine, so you can stop making that face." Eve pouted.

Xena sighed. She'd gotten the worst of the job on the night watch as far as conversation was concerned, though Nebula seemed to be up and pacing about a lot lately as the day of the execution approached. Tonight she remained asleep--so far--but everything was a little off. Everything, Nebula's sleeping habits and Gabrielle's behavior and the Court's sudden agreeability and Eve's frowning--but it should all readjust itself to normal once the thing was done. A nice neat solution, actually, unite the country, silence the opposition...

Too neat. Xena shifted irritably and went over events again. Everything seemed all right on the surface, but... "Bah," she said aloud. Eve watched her with interest. "Politics. Give me a good damn toe-to-toe battle any day."

Eve laughed and clapped. Xena got up and lifted the baby out of her playpen. "Oof, you're getting to be a big strong girl, just like Mummy. Do you want to go to battle too?" There was a twinge of something too deep for sorrow in her chest. "There will be battles, once we go back," she said softly. Once the execution was over they would return to Greece where the gods waited for their showdown, and Xena's dread of what would then happen to herself, to Gabrielle, and most of all to Eve was growing by the day.

Eve looked at her mother, her wide blue eyes asking a question that Xena didn't understand..."Of course we have to go back," Xena found herself saying for no reason.

Eve continued to gaze at her. "Of course," Xena said. "Of course...well, just because, that's why." Suddenly feeling foolish, she put the baby down again. "It's the right thing to do," she said. "You can't run from a fight. You have to face it with honor. It's the way of warriors, they..." She barely stopped herself from finishing the sentence in time, and turned and walked back to her chair, suddenly fearing Eve would be able to read the words in her face. It's the way of warriors, she thought. They have to face what comes, even when...Even when it's certain death. For a moment she thought of Caesar, thought of the cold, thought of the vision that haunted her for over a year and yet she never turned back from it...

Then she regained control and put the thoughts away. She'd had to follow the vision, play it out to its bloody end. Honor demanded it then, and honor demanded it now.

"Mwah," said Eve loudly. "Mwah." Xena turned around and saw the baby drumming a small pink fist against the bars of her playpen, her expression determined. She looked like a woman who wanted an argument, as if she would stand up any minute and say...

And say what? You're not a warrior any more? Nonsense. Xena had accepted her fate long ago, but...

But what right did she have to visit it upon Eve? Couldn't it be said that honor demanded she take care of her child first?

Xena sat down slowly, testing these thoughts carefully, searching them for the note of cowardice she suspected underlied them but finding no sign. Didn't a warrior also have to look out for those who could not fight for themselves? She had to think about Eve now, and maybe Joxer as well. Could she and Gabrielle continue to throw themselves headlong at impossible odds and by doing so put the people they loved in harm's way? Was that honor--or was it selfishness?

Eve sat down. "Gooo," she said, and her tone was distinctly satisfied.

Xena sorted the thoughts and arranged them carefully to be looked at later and inspected for signs of weakness. But still--"I think I'm thinking too much lately," she said aloud.

Eve shook her head and made a fondly disgusted noise.

Xena drew a breath and sighed. Her instincts were pointing her in a different direction than they'd ever urged her before, and it was very odd. "It's the execution," she said. "We have to get it out of the way, and once we do, we'll all be able to relax and think clearly once more." Yes. "In a couple of days, it'll all be over, and then... and then I'll decide."

Eve looked satisfied with this, and turned to playing with her favorite wooden horse.

-26-

SOMETIMES JOXER THOUGHT that he was mistaken about everything. He must not really be here, because it was too unbelievable. He must really be back on the ship, in chains, passing out at the oars or crouched in the corner of Hassim's cabin where they kept him sometimes, and all this a fevered dream. Or maybe none of it had happened at all, maybe the dream came from farther back. Maybe he was still dying from Apollo's poison under that pine tree, or had fallen into a drift on his way to Rome and was freezing to death by the side of the road. Maybe--

Then he would catch himself, find those things in his head, and chase them away. How could you ever be sure of anything, if you started thinking like that? And if he was imagining the whole thing, well, the more power to him. Because never in his life, and he'd spent the whole thing it seemed imagining something better, had he ever conceived of anything as wonderful and marvelous as this.

He had been fucking Nebula to forget, and it had worked. He made love to Gabrielle and he remembered, remembered all of it--and watched it lose its power to hurt him. It dissolved and wafted away before his eyes, and he was left only with her. Safe with her. Safe! He didn't know about safe, maybe never had known, but this, this was it. Safe. He curled against her when he slept, even in dreams still conscious of the warmth of her body and her presence. Safe. Love.

He knew better, of course, than to use the l-word. Gabrielle wouldn't like that, and she might back off if she thought he was getting too involved. It was too late for that, of course. He'd been too involved for years, maybe since the moment he'd met her. But he wanted to please her, and if it pleased her for him not to speak of love then he would not. It was a small price to pay for having her body and her mind and her spirit so entwined with his. So what if it did not include her heart?

His life was as close to perfect as it could be. His life. He'd never thought he could amount to anything, and yet here he was. A hero to a Queen and a country, acclaimed wherever he went. A man with a position, a respectable position, someone people looked up to. A family, for Xena seemed quite pleased with the way he made Gabrielle happy and though she still wouldn't talk to him much, she was no longer giving him those strange looks he feared so much. Long warm balmy Sumerian days filled with fascinating debates and speeches. Evenings with good food and good company, playing with Eve while talking politics with Nebula and Suleiman and Xena, or walking in the gardens, or on the parapets while the sun went down and it seemed all of Sumeria glowed red and violet, so beautiful it hurt to look at it. And the nights. Oh, gods, the nights. Gabrielle's body, soft and hard by turns, the look of her and the feel and the smell and the taste, underneath him, engulfing him, his entire being concentrating into his hips and belly and cock until he thought he would shrink into a single point and lose himself in her forever. And her lips, and her hands, her soft voice that could say such words during and after! after! this was something different, something new and perfect, to be so happy just lying beside her and watching her sleep, drifting off himself to the sound of her snores. She had a lovely snore, Gabrielle.

And all this from a single moment when a curtain had parted. Sometimes he thought of it, and shivered. If he hadn't noticed...if he hadn't spoken in time...if he hadn't caught Khalil...

But he had. He'd stopped it, and everyone was fine. Okay, everyone except Khalil. He didn't want to think about Khalil so he put him into the dark place in his mind. There was a lot of room in there now because most of the dark things had faded into nothingness under Gabrielle's touch. But still they were building that... thing out in the plaza, and still...Khalil.

"It'll all be over in a couple of days," Nebula said. Her face looked haunted, and he didn't think she'd been sleeping much. "Well, I don't have to worry any more about fighting with the rest of my House. There is no the rest of my House any more."

The Lion House had been totally disgraced. Apparently it was fine to undercut the reigning monarch, to gather opposition against her and smear her name, but to physically attack her violated every taboo of Sumerian society. Why had Khalil done it? Joxer toyed with a spoon, unable to let the thought go. Khalil was afraid of being ashamed in front of everybody, just like Joxer was. So why had he done something that he knew would bring this onto himself? It didn't make any sense.

Nebula had invited them all, him, Xena, Gabrielle, Suleiman, and of course Eve to a private dinner, probably to take her mind off the formal sentencing in Court tomorrow. Gabrielle had bowed out, pleading exhaustion; Joxer couldn't blame her. Nebula was on the go all day, keeping busy, taking advantage of the cooperativeness of the Court to push through as many rulings and laws as she could. Nothing big, nothing that would provoke a showdown, but bit by bit her power was growing and her agenda was moving into place, and all without the Court really being aware of what they were agreeing to. They were gonna be way surprised one day when they finally realized what had happened, Joxer thought, and hoped he'd be there to see it. But poor Gab had to stick to Nebula like glue through all this, and she slept like a log through the night. Well, afterwards, anyway.

Xena poured a glass of palm wine. "That's not entirely a bad thing. They were your major opposition, after all. If they're not going to raise any objections tomorrow, and if the execution proceeds as planned without any immediate repercussions, I really think you'll have pulled it off. We should be able to relax security then, and get on with our lives."

"It will consolidate your power," Suleiman said. "Those few still left who claim a woman has not the strength of will to rule are falling silent in the face of this."

But Nebula still didn't like it. Joxer could see it in her eyes, and he wished he could offer her at least his hand for support, but it would be awkward and he held back. Poor Nebula. Maybe he would talk to Gab and see if they could figure out a way to get Morrigan over for a visit like he'd thought before. That would cheer her up.

Right now, though, she was looking at her food and not at the people around her, which was unusual for her. "What do the ritual laws say? How long do I have to be at the actual execution?"

"You only have to pronounce sentence. Then you turn your back and walk away. It's symbolic, Gab says." Joxer knew he was talking too fast but he wanted to fill up those sad empty spaces in the conversation as well as he could. "The priests cast the anathema, and then the executioner actually... uh, does it." Suleiman was acting as executioner. Joxer didn't envy him at all. "And there should be one representative from each House present, for the anathema."

"And unofficially security in the crowd," Xena said. She reached out and punched Joxer on the shoulder. "And, I should think, the hero of the day."

"Ow." Joxer rubbed his shoulder. "Who, me? I'm not--" Too late he remembered it was Xena he was talking to and quickly shut up.

Xena gazed levelly at him. "That's right," she said. "You wouldn't want to be there, would you?" Then, amazingly, her eyes crinkled at the corners into a smile. A real smile, the kind he only ever saw her use on Gabrielle. "You're a good man, Joxer."

"I am?"

"Yeah. You did a good job with this one."

Joxer couldn't breathe for a moment. Xena thought he did a good job. She said so, in public, in front of Suleiman and Nebula.

Wow.

But still...Khalil.

"The sentencing tomorrow should go fine," Nebula said. She looked tired, more than tired, old. "I've never seen the Court so aligned on anything before. I want that done as quickly and efficiently as possible. No other business. Khalil is brought in, I pronounce sentence, he's taken out, and I leave." She pushed away the stew. "Give them blood," she said, almost to herself. "Give them blood, and they're happy."

"Bread and circuses," Xena said, and her face was dark.

The formal sentencing was like a dream, one of those foul dreams where you knew something horrible was about to happen and yet try as you might you couldn't wake yourself up in time to avoid it. Khalil marched up the aisle between the escorting Guards and the crowd shrank away from him as he passed, as if they could be contaminated by the regicide's touch. Joxer didn't watch the crowd, although he should have. He watched Khalil, watched how Khalil walked with head up and spine straight, ignoring the roar of the crowd that now broke over him in waves, again and again. Joxer didn't know how the prince could do it. Must be a prince thing, for Joxer would never have been able to do such a thing himself, in the face of such shame.

Nebula held her hand up in the ritual gesture for silence, and when she did not get it looked slowly across the room, caught every eye and stared them all down. Xena herself couldn't have done better. When all had fallen silent under her unspoken command, she spoke in that deep, solemn tone. "We are here to pass censure on Khalil for disobeying Our will and flouting Our law." Khalil. No longer Khalil of the House of the Lion, but Khalil of no name, like a commoner, like a slave. Joxer winced in sympathetic pain at the humiliation. "Is there any who would object?"

No one made a sound and yet Joxer sensed a rustling in the room, like dogs waiting outside the slaughterhouse for the kill. Nebula looked down at her brother and her face betrayed nothing. "Khalil, do you have that to say or show which will prove your innocence in this matter?"

Khalil looked her levelly in the eye. When he spoke it was the same royal tone as hers. "I am innocent in this matter of which I am accused. Never would I raise my hand against the sacred person of the monarch, and never would I raise my hand against my own sister. You know this to be true." The crowd stirred at this--the insolence, of a man being sentenced to talk back to the Queen--and Khalil waited before continuing. "Nevertheless, as you are my Queen, I shall accept your judgment and whatever punishment you deem fit."

Joxer saw Xena, sitting on the other side of the dais, frown slightly at this, but Nebula's face never changed.

"Khalil," she said, "You have disobeyed Our will and flouted Our law. Moreover, you have made an attempt on the life of your own monarch, an unnatural act that blasphemes the gods themselves. For this We pronounce you traitor to the throne, and for this We sentence you to a traitor's fate. At the second sunrise from this time, you will be put to death in the plaza in front of all to see, and your body given over to the birds and beasts to pick clean. This We say as Queen, and so it shall be done."

Khalil inclined his head slightly, in a bow that had no mockery in it. The Guards took him, turned him around, and marched him back out down the long aisle, before every member of the Court, and through the great carved doors once more. When the doors had closed behind them, Nebula said, "This Court is now at an end." She turned around and walked through her own set of doors, and that was that.

Shame. Joxer knew about shame. And despite everything, despite what Khalil had tried to do, Joxer still felt an unwilling sympathy for him. Shamed in front of his friends by Nebula's arrest of Hassim, shamed in front of Court by Nyosa's spurning him for his cousin, shamed in front of his family for his attack on his sister, the family shamed, the entire House shamed. It made Joxer's gut twist in unwilling sympathy, and some small voice in the back of his head said wouldn't it have been better, overall, if Khalil had been killed in the fall, as Joxer had feared at first? He'd killed him either way, hadn't he? And that would have been quicker, to go during the fight, not as much shame...Joxer pushed the voice away, but for some reason couldn't stop going over the fight in his mind. If he'd been too slow to keep Khalil from getting to the passageway; if he'd slipped as he usually did and let Khalil wriggle free; if he'd been knocked out when he was wrestling with him and not had to panic when Khalil went for his dagger and...

Joxer felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He ran over the memory again, hoping against hope he was wrong, had everything out of order, had his memories scrambled from the bump he'd gotten, but no matter how many times he looked at it, he saw the same thing. Khalil had been on top of him, trying to get at his dagger. The dagger he'd just thrown at Nebula. Not even Joxer, absentminded as he was, could forget something like having thrown a dagger at his own sister five minutes previously. So how could Khalil? Unless...

Unless Khalil hadn't thrown the dagger after all.

For a second Joxer's mind blanked out. He wanted to run to Xena and tell her everything so she could tell him he was wrong, but he knew he wasn't wrong, and gods, what would Xena think of him when she found out?! He remembered Khalil's face, his anger, his outrage. It all fit, Khalil had seen the attempt and was out in the hall looking for the person who did it. He may even have thought it was Joxer himself. It all made sense where none of it had made sense before. Except for one thing. Khalil was going to die for the attempt on Nebula's life.

And Joxer had condemned an innocent man.

-27-

HE TRIPPED OVER A FOOTSTOOL when he entered the apartments, and the noise woke Gab. She came out from behind the curtain, yawning, her eyes still unfocused with sleep, her hair going every which way. She looked adorable. Joxer stumbled over his words as he'd stumbled over the furniture. "Gabrielle, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, I..."

"No, s'all right." She yawned, a huge, open-mouthed yawn, and scratched her back. She had a lovely yawn, Gabrielle. "I wanted to get up anyway. I'm going down and see Suleiman and try to get some practice in before it gets dark. I've been too busy lately, and I thought of some more things I want to try."

"Cool. Listen, Gabrielle, I..."

"What's up with you? You look like you've been running. Nebula having you carry messages all the way down to the Harbormaster's again?"

"No, it's not that, I..." He tried to remember other times when he'd had something important to tell Gabrielle, and his mind flinched away from remembering the details--they generally hadn't gone well--but he remembered one thing. The only way he could do it was to blurt it all out at once, and so he took a deep breath and did so. "IthinkKhalildidn'tdoit."

"What?"

"I said, I think Khalil didn't do it." She was giving him one of her arched-eyebrow there-he-goes-again looks, and he hastily filled in the details. "Didn't try to kill Nebula."

"You saw him do it."

"I saw someone do it. I saw someone throw the knife, and I saw Khalil running, and he tried to stab me with the knife. The one that he threw."

"If he threw the knife, how could he try to stab you with it?"

"Exactly! Exactly, that's why I..." Joxer's voice trailed off as he realized Gabrielle wasn't agreeing with him after all. She was just playing with him, the way she did when he said things she thought were nonsense. "Gabrielle," he said, "I'm serious."

"Oh, Joxer, don't be stupid."

He started to protest, and then stopped.

It was stupid. If he was right about this, then it was the stupidest thing he had ever done in a lifetime that seemed to be nothing but stupidity. Stupid, and worse, evil. What would everyone say, about that stupid outlander who almost had a prince of the blood killed for no reason? What would Xena say? She would drive him off, she'd threatened to before. What would Gabrielle say? Don't be stupid, Joxer. Gabrielle, who said she admired him for his bravery and his accomplishment and his goodness, what would she say if it turned out he had done nothing worthy of praise, in fact only just about the worst thing that could ever be done? What would she say?

"Joxer." Gabrielle's voice was soft, and the touch of her hand on his cheek gentle. He would never see such a look in her eyes again if what he suspected was true. "I know you're upset over this. Just hang in there. In a couple of days, it'll all be over and then we can all relax. Okay?" She took his silence for assent, and stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss. "I'm going to meet Suleiman and get a little practice in before it gets too dark. I'll see you when I get back, okay?

"Okay."

She turned to go, looking back over her shoulder at him and flashing him a smile that turned his knees to water. Gods, she was beautiful. He stood alone in the room after she was gone, the lengthening twilight casting long golden streamers across the apartments. His apartments. His home. His position, his purpose, his family, his love.

No. To lose this...he'd rather die.

But he could not stop asking himself the question: would he rather Khalil die instead?

-----

Gabrielle knew all the passageways in the labyrinth. She'd investigated them thoroughly when she'd arrived, and even mapped them out on scrolls she kept in her writing-desk in her private chamber. Joxer had been way impressed, as always, with her intelligence and her talent and her cleverness in finding things out. But he had trouble following maps, and he'd taken her advice to stay out of the tunnels to heart. So to go to the dungeon he had to go the only way available above ground, which was to leave the palace proper, go out across the plaza with the almost-full moon making crisscrossing shadows everywhere, past the platform where the execution would be held, across the whole front of the palace and down the street at the side, and into the only publicly accessible entrance to the dungeons. There was a small room where you came in, and there were always two Guards there, and if they let you pass you went down a long, long flight of narrow and slippery stairs off which labyrinth entrances opened here and there, past smaller and smaller torches to another small room, and there were two more Guards there. "I'm here to see the prisoner," Joxer told them, as he'd told the first set up where there was still light and air. "The Queen's orders."

They knew who he was. He wasn't hard to miss, the outlander Vizier with that strange pale skin, and they nodded and opened the large, heavy door on the far wall of the room. It swung open slowly, heavily, like the gate to a tomb.

Beyond the door were the cells proper, and here Joxer found oddly he could relax a little. Jails were jails, no matter where they were. Familiar. Two large cells with hard bare benches along their walls, where many men could be kept together, and beyond them where the passage grew dimmer smaller, darker, more ominous rooms, no more than closets, and the bars blocking what little light there was. Joxer slowed, not quite able to see; and he heard a rustling from one cell, not like the kind rats made. He peered into the gloom and slowly made out the figure of a man. "Khalil?" he said.

The prince sat on the rush-strewn floor, his spine straight, as dignified and calm as if he were sitting on a throne. He took no notice of Joxer, and Joxer spoke again. "Kha--"

Khalil spat. "I need nothing from you, softskin. Begone."

Joxer leaned on the bars. "Did you do it?" he asked softly.

"What difference does it make? I am to be executed for it either way."

"But did you do it?"

"Fool!" In a single swift, elegant movement he sprang to his feet and charged, and Joxer barely jumped back in time to keep the Sumerian's hands from closing on his throat. "Murder the Queen, in full view of the Court? Do you think for a second I could win the throne after such disrespect for the royal line as that? What would I have to gain from such a thing? And murder my own sister?" As abruptly as he'd risen, he turned his back on Joxer and stalked away across the cell. Joxer reapproached the bars cautiously. "Then why did you fight?"

"Because it is as I said." Khalil's voice had a slightly familiar weary tone to it, the kind of tone people often used when talking to Joxer. "Once the accusation was made, I should be executed either way. I had no desire to be flayed in front of a crowd. It is most undignified."

"But if you talk to Nebula, to Xena, I'm sure--"

"The Court has spoken. The people want blood. They're getting mine."

"This isn't right," Joxer said fretfully. "What about your family? Can't they talk to Nebula? What about Nyosa?"

Khalil laughed. "Nyosa? She has all the loyalty of a snake. I am no longer in favor and so I no longer exist to her."

"I'm sorry," Joxer said numbly, not sure what else to say.

"Oh, don't be. I love Nyosa, but I know what she is," Khalil said frankly. "No doubt she is already angling up to the next best candidate for the throne--and arranging for his name to go to the top of the list."

"You don't think Nyosa..."

"Not directly, no. Though I would not be surprised were she to have encouraged one of her other projects to make the move for her, but which one I do not know. If you came here hoping to hear me confess to a grand conspiracy, and name everyone involved, you were sadly deluded, softskin. If I did know I would not speak in any case."

"You don't have any idea who might want Nebula dead?"

"Besides everybody?" Khalil shrugged. "A woman ruling--there isn't a House who isn't upset with that. The people seem to like it, but then who cares for the people?"

"Nebula does."

Khalil stared at Joxer for a long moment. "You're a very sad, odd person."

"Maybe.

"Why do you care?" Khalil searched Joxer's face, as if studying some particularly interesting kind of bug. "What difference does it make to you whether I did it or not?"

"Because if you didn't do it, and you get punished for it--that's not right."

"An interesting concept. Where did you get it from?"

"Xena." Joxer had led two lives, the one before he met Xena and the one after, and it was this afterlife that actually bore meaning. "Xena taught me that."

Khalil smiled, an unsettlingly bright flash in the dim gloom. "She did you no favors, softskin."

-----

Gabrielle returned late from her session, dirty, bruised, and disappointed. All the new moves had failed as well. Joxer coaxed her into the tub, washed her back and her hair for her, and carried her, yawning, to her bed where he massaged her back and arms and made cheerfully inane remarks about how she'd do better next time. She fell asleep, or looked like she had, but when he cautiously got up she hooked her ankle around his knee and he toppled over onto the bed, which as it turned out was right where she wanted him. Not that he had any objection.

He didn't sleep after. He didn't feel sleepy, he didn't feel much of anything. What he needed to do was see Xena as soon as she came in, get to her right away before she went for her rest. Xena knew stuff. Especially stuff about fighting, and people trying to kill people, and stuff like that. She would be able to tell him where he was wrong, point out where he'd made the mistake in his thinking. Because despite what he'd sensed from Khalil, despite what his reason told him, despite what his heart told him, it all had to be wrong. There was just no other way. So Xena would tell him he was wrong, and then he could relax.

He dozed lightly, on and off, listening to the comforting sound of Gabrielle's breathing, enjoying the warmth and the weight of her body against his, and not thinking. It was not until he heard the front door opening that he gently eased out from under her, slid the pillows under her head--she got to sleep for another hour or so before going to her shift, and she needed her rest--and sneaking as silently as possible out into the main room. "Xena?" he said softly.

She turned, not startled--Xena always knew what was going on around her--but for some reason she gave him a funny look. Pants, Joxer thought after a long moment. Oh, shit. "Um, Xena," he said, maneuvering around behind a chair, "I--"

"You're up early," Xena said dryly, and maybe a little disapprovingly. The expectation was pretty much that Jox and Gab were supposed to pretend they weren't doing anything, and Joxer had just broken this unspoken rule. And this was not a morning when he needed to be breaking rules. Shit and shit again. "Xena." His mouth was dry, almost too dry to speak. "Xena," he said, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth, "I have to talk to you." He took a deep breath. "I, um, I need to tell you about something that happened, and I...it's really important."

Xena looked at him for a moment and something odd passed across her face; and then she looked away. "Not now, Joxer."

"No, I really need to..."

"Joxer, I just got back, I have to take care of Eve, I'm tired." She was not looking at him, and her tone was hurried. Almost as if she knew what he was going to say, and didn't want to hear it.

"It's really important. Please," he begged. Openly begged, because he needed to know. Please tell me I'm being stupid. Please tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me so I can not have to worry any more, so I can put it in the dark place and not have to think about it.

Please just look at me, he thought. Please.

Xena remained hesitating for another long moment; then she turned away. "I can't right now, Joxer," she said. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" and she disappeared into her chamber.

-28-

"Nice day," Nebula said.

This was the first thing she had said in the last fifteen minutes. Gabrielle waited another three or four before responding. "Yeah."

There went all the topics of conversation. Gabrielle suppressed a sigh. It was going to be a long day. A long day, and she didn't want to spend it here. Nebula was attending neither Court nor audience today, remaining in her chambers and preparing for the morrow. Which preparation mostly consisted of waiting for it to show up.

So Nebula sat and idly read through some scrolls, and every now and then made a comment about the weather. Gabrielle was getting so wound up she thought she might explode, and on top of all that she was really worried about how Joxer was taking this whole thing. He'd been very upset this morning when she got up, more so than the afternoon before. He'd finally stopped grasping at the feeble straw of Khalil's "innocence", apparently, but the finality of the whole thing was sinking in. And Joxer still wasn't quite his old self, and the pressure was making him quiet and withdrawn rather than otherwise. She wanted to be with him, offering support where it was needed--and appreciated, darn it--rather than sit here and watch Nebula stare into space.

Nebula rolled up the scroll. "Have you ever heard about the Hebrews?"

"Uh..." This required her to actually think for a minute. "Yeah, I think so. There's a lot of them out towards Jerusalem."

"They have this weird god." Nebula tapped the scroll. "He lives in a box, and he won't talk to any other gods. He won't even acknowledge that any other gods exist. He just stays in this box, and their high priests carry it around. Anyway. The only thing this god does is tell people to write down stories about him, and one of the stories he told was this. He claims he made the first man and woman in the world, and the man and woman had two children. The first two children there ever were, and one of them killed the other one. And after that, the one that survived was cursed, and nothing went right ever again."

Gabrielle thought for a minute before replying. "It's not the same thing."

"Isn't it?"

"Well...well, for one thing, don't forget the story came from a god in a box."

"This is true." Nebula smiled, a pale imitation of the normal wolf grin, but still a smile. "It's just that...You know, I just can't bring myself to believe Khalil tried to kill me. He's always been so...lazy."

"Oh, not you too," Gabrielle said without thinking.

"Not me too what?"

"Joxer was trying to convince himself Khalil didn't do it." Gabrielle sighed, looking at the floor. "He doesn't like the idea of the execution."

"He wouldn't, would he?" Nebula said softly. She fingered the edge of the scroll. "Our Joxer is a very unique person, isn't he?"

Gabrielle instinctively flared at the pronoun, but remembered duty and remembered the situation and mostly clamped her jaw so tightly it ached. "A lot of people don't understand him," she said rather pointedly.

"He has a genuine ability to understand other people's points of view," Nebula said diffidently. "He makes a good Vizier, don't you think? Or a good King."

Fuck duty. "I beg your pardon?"

"Just thinking out loud, Blondie," Nebula said. She toyed idly with the scroll. "A woman's gotta think about consorts sooner or later. And it'd be a great opportunity for him."

"I beg your--"

"Of course, there's the royal prerogative thing. I wouldn't mind if he had--" For the first time she looked at Gabrielle, a sideways glance which did not calm the warrior bard at all. "--hobbies on the side."

Gabrielle found her voice. "Hey. You stay the hell away from him. He doesn't need--"

"He doesn't need an opportunity like this? He doesn't need to stop following Xena around and getting stomped repeatedly body and soul for it? He doesn't need to stop debasing himself at the feet of a woman who'll never love him?" Nebula said all this calmly, but she leaned back in her chair and watched Gabrielle the whole time she was speaking.

Gabrielle took a deep breath, trying hard to remember she was supposed to keep Nebula from getting her ass kicked from here to the docks and back, instead of doing the kicking herself. "Nebula. I know you're upset about tomorrow, and I'm going to let you slide because of that. But if you think for one minute--"

Nebula stood up. "You think yourself, Blondie. If you care about him, would you stand in the way of an opportunity like this for him? And if you don't care--then why should you stand in the way at all?" She looked down at Gabrielle, an arrogant, confident, Queenly stare. "Give it some thought, Blondie. See what kind of rationalizations you can come up with. I'm told you're good at that." With that she turned and disappeared behind the curtain into her private chamber, leaving Gabrielle ready to explode--but at who or what, she was no longer quite sure.

-29-

IF XENA HAD been sensitive to such things, which she was not, she might have felt a general enthusiasm that evening for her to get dressed and leave for her watch at Nebula's apartments as soon as possible. But she either didn't pick up on the unspoken request or, more likely, did not care about it, and she took her sweet time getting ready. "I'm not coming back in the morning," she said to Gabrielle. "I'm going to stay with Nebula and wait for you to join us. The ceremony's going to take place by mid-morning, so no sense me coming all the way back here and turning around again. Besides, if anyone's going to move they'll do it just beforehand."

"One can only hope," Gabrielle muttered.

"What? Honestly, Gabrielle, I think you're working too hard lately. Well, after tomorrow it'll all be over and everything can get back to normal." She picked up Eve. "Joxer, can you get the door? Look alive, for pity's sake, you haven't said a word all day. Listen, same thing I told her--after tomorrow, it'll be fine." Joxer looked as if he would speak as he opened the door, and Xena cut him off. "It'll be fine," she said firmly, and left. Joxer closed the door silently behind her, and he and Gabrielle were once again alone in the room. Once again--Joxer leaned his forehead against the door for a long minute and fought for control.

"Joxer?"

No. Don't let her know. He stood up and pulled himself together, turning around with a smile that became genuine at the sight of her. As always. She was such a wonderful sight, Gabrielle. "What's on for tonight?" he asked.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're lying." She came up to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

"I'm fine. Like Xena said, it'll all be over tomorrow." He smoothed her hair gently back from her forehead and suddenly was seized with a need more overpowering than anything he'd ever felt in his life. Before she could react he had seized her, claimed her mouth with his own, and she was sinking to the floor and bringing him with her.

They coupled swiftly, furiously, half-dressed there on the floor. They undressed and bathed each other in the tub and joined in the water, sliding against and around each other like otters; they withdrew to Gabrielle's chamber in a series of touches and caresses and kisses, and she stretched herself out on the bed and opened her legs wide and drew him in. He couldn't keep his hands off her, and she responded to every touch, every look, and he just couldn't stop, knowing what he knew. He entered her slowly, the way she liked, and she threw her head back and moaned luxuriously, and she was so beautiful. He took her face in his hands and lay there for a moment, in a perfect bliss that could not last, with Gabrielle engulfing him and that soft look in her eyes. "Gabrielle," he said softly, clearly so that she would understand. "Gabrielle, I love you."

"Joxer, don't..."

"I love you."

"Joxer, please. You know the rules."

"Fuck the rules."

"No, you idiot. Me." She clenched about him and arched her back, bucking her hips quickly a few times--and then she was drawn into his gaze, and her movements slowed. Without breaking the eye contact, he made love to her, not fucking, love, pacing every movement, every angle, to please her, following whatever he saw reflected in her face. He had no words. He had never had words. All he had was this. He watched her the whole time, etching the memory of her expression deep into his brain, and not until she finally closed tightly around him and came did he close his eyes, feeling the ecstasy of her quivering body about him, and the sting of the tears. She didn't see them when she gathered his head to hers and thrust her tongue deep into his mouth as he came, and maybe it was all for the best.

They fell into a loose knot of limbs and lay still for long moments. Gabrielle finally curled herself up against him, snuggling her head into his shoulder. "My hero," she murmured, and the words were like a knife in his gut. He pulled a blanket up over her shoulders and lay there for a long time, while she slept and the moon climbed steadily in the sky.

At midnight it was tomorrow. He kissed her gently and slipped out of the bed, leaving her dreaming contentedly, a smile on her face. She had a lovely smile, Gabrielle. He dressed silently and left the apartments and set out on the long dark walk to the dungeons.

This time the Guards in the downstairs room hesitated, and he had to repeat the order again. "The Queen wants to see the prisoner," he said. The Guards looked at each other, and to forestall that he snapped in his best imitation of a Xena tone, "Do you disobey the Queen?" It wasn't a very good imitation, but it had the magic word in it. The Guards stepped aside and let him through the large door. They went to Khalil's cell and unlocked it as Joxer stood there with arms folded, this in imitation of Gabrielle's best you'd-better-do-this-right-fucking-now stance, and they brought Khalil out. They started to fasten shackles about the prince's wrists, but Joxer didn't like the memories those brought back. "No," he snapped. "I'll take him from here." He took Khalil by the elbow and marched him out the door, his head held high in an approximation of the prince's arrogant gait. It was so easy, when you were important. Nobody talked back to heroes.

"Let go of me, softskin," Khalil hissed as they mounted the stairs.

"Shut up," Joxer said softly.

"What do you intend to do? Take me out and cut my throat to spare my dear sister the expense of a public spectacle? Pity. The city needs all the free entertainment it can get."

"Do you know these doors?" Joxer nodded at one of the labyrinth entrances, a few steps above on the right-hand wall.

"I grew up in this palace. I know them all. What are you doing, softskin?"

Joxer continued walking up as far as the labyrinth entrance, then stopped. "I'm letting you go."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a chance, anyway. Go into the maze and, and do whatever. I don't know anything about it so I can't help you more than that."

Khalil didn't move. "Are you insane?"

Yes, Joxer thought. Aloud he said, "You're not a murderer. You're not even an attempted murderer. I can't let you be killed for something you didn't do."

Khalil looked at him for a long moment. "I shall not be grateful for this," he said.

"I don't expect you to be."

After a moment the prince turned, stooping his tall frame easily under the short sill of the tunnel entrance, and vanished into the darkness.

There. It was done. Joxer felt an odd lightness in his chest, the way he'd felt in the harbor waiting for the shark. Nothing to do now. Nothing to do except sit and wait. And so he did, selecting a spot on the stairs a few feet above, not directly in front of any of the tunnel entrances to avoid sitting in the draft and catching cold, and waited. He was there for a few hours or days, perhaps, until he heard sounds from above. Loud noises and raised voices, as if the Guards upstairs already knew what had happened without seeing it. Well, probably they did. The downstairs Guards came in and out through another one of those tunnels, not through the front doors, and they would have found out what had happened. Joxer sat and waited. The door above opened, and footsteps came down the stairs. A single set of footsteps. Joxer looked up and recognized the man from the way he moved, even in the darkness. "Suleiman," he said. He stood up slowly, his back stiff, and wondered what he would say. "I--"

Without a word, without warning, the Guard swung the butt of his sword around towards Joxer's temple. Joxer saw it coming and barely ducked his head away in time to save his skull, but nothing else. He fell hard against the wall, crumpling to the steps, beyond confused--that wasn't a subduing blow, that kind of strike was meant to kill. Something is really wrong here, he thought as the darkness closed about him; really, really wr--

-30-

Gabrielle awoke with a jerk.

She lay panting, her heart thumping as if she'd been running, unable to remember the dream that had woke her, but it had to have been a doozy. She sat up awkwardly and realized Joxer was missing. Out behind the acacias, maybe?

No. Feeling uneasy for no apparent reason, Gabrielle slid out of bed and dressed quickly in her leather bra and skirt, topping it off with the linen shirt, not bothering with full Guard uniform. It was still dark, but the moon's position indicated dawn was approaching. Joxer had probably woken early, as she had, and decided it wasn't any use trying to get in a few more hours' sleep and gone down to join Xena and Nebula. And Nebula? Like hell, she thought grimly, slid her sai into their sheaths on her belt, and headed for Nebula's chambers.

And found chaos. The Guards outside the door tried to block her way, but she slipped around them and pushed her way inside. Xena was talking to or at Nebula, and Nebula was talking--ranting--more or less to herself, and Suleiman was trying to get a word in edgewise, and Eve, forgotten in her playpen, was wailing angrily. And Joxer was nowhere to be seen. "I'll kill him," Nebula was saying, "I'll have him flayed in Khalil's stead. How dare he undermine me like this, I'll--"

"Xena, what's going on? What happened?" Gabrielle asked, with a horrible fear that she knew the answer.

"Joxer," said Xena, looking disgusted.

"Where is he?" Gabrielle almost yelled, loud enough for everyone to stop talking and look at her. They were all quiet for a minute, and then Suleiman said, "In the dungeons."

"No."

Xena walked to her and took her by the shoulders. "Gabrielle, apparently Nebula and Suleiman think--"

"That Joxer freed Khalil." Gabrielle spoke slowly, like a woman in a dream. "He thinks Khalil is innocent. He told me yesterday. He tried to talk to me about it, but I blew it off."

For some reason Xena looked almost--ashamed?--at this, and turned her face away. Nebula hissed in a cold fury more frightening than her earlier ranting, "He turned on me and he'll pay for it."

"He didn't turn on you," Gabrielle snapped. "You know goddamn well what he thought, you knew it yesterday. Xena, you know how Joxer is, he..."

"He was in on it with Khalil the whole time," Nebula said flatly, and Xena said, "Oh, don't be ridiculous," and then the two of them were shouting at each other again, Gabrielle trying to calm Xena and Suleiman trying to calm Nebula and the both of them failing. Abruptly the Guard took Gabrielle's arm and pulled her aside. "Little one, you must go out with the rest of the Guard. We are combing the maze for Khalil, though I fear he may have had enough time to get out of the city. Go quickly and see what you can find."

"After I talk to Joxer."

Suleiman looked pained. "I do not know if he will be able to answer," he said softly. "I fear the Guard were carried away in their anger."

Part of the nightmare that woke her flashed into her mind, too quickly to see, and disappeared, leaving her shaken. "No," she said, backing away. "I have to see him."

"I would not advise it, little one." Suleiman shook his head gravely, and laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "It is probably best for you that you do not--"

She threw off his hand. "I have to see him," she said once more, a statement of fact, and left the room.

Xena wanted to hit something. She would have preferred it to be something breakable, something such as Joxer for getting them all into this mess. Why the hell didn't he come to her if he'd thought something was wrong? Why did he have to go off acting like--like Joxer, for gods' sakes? "Gabrielle," she snapped. "Gabrielle, what did he s--"

She turned to find Gabrielle was gone. Probably to the dungeons. Damn it! The woman just didn't think sometimes. Two peas in a pod, those two. And add to that Nebula--"Nebula," Xena snapped, frustrated beyond measure, "would you just shut the fuck up!"

"Don't you talk to me like that, you--"

"Don't you pull that Royal Highness bullshit with me," Xena shot back. "I knew you when you were rolling drunks on the docks in Corinth, so don't get on your damn high horse with me. Stop acting like a spoiled royal brat, and start thinking!"

"I am thinking, Xena! I am thinking about what this means to me, to the Court, to the country. I can't just get on my horse and gallop off to the next town and forget it, I have obligations now!"

"And I don't?"

"None that you seem to feel it necessary to follow."

Xena barely stopped the instinctive strike in time, but it was a hard-fought win. "Nebula," she said when she had herself under control, "if you've got obligations because you're a Queen, then start acting like a Queen and not like some stupid, vindictive spurned female. This whole thing, if you understood Joxer, you'd--"

Nebula stared at Xena for a moment, and laughed. "Ha!" She turned around and laughed again, a short sharp bark. "Ha! You? You are going to sit there and tell me about Joxer? You--" She turned back to face Xena. "At least I talk to him, okay? At least I'm willing to listen to what he has to say! You haven't spoken two words to him since he washed up here!"

"That's not true!"

"Good gods, Xena!" The laugh again, less sharp, more on the edge of hysterical. "Good gods! The man crawls through hell to follow you halfway around the known world, and you can't even be bothered to step around him when he collapses at your feet! How do you do it, Xena? How do you get that kind of devotion and that kind of loyalty from someone without giving a thing in return? You tell me, because I'd like to know. Because I could not only rule Sumeria with that kind of talent, I could rule the world." She walked away, shaking her head, and rubbed her throat. "My voice...good gods, and I need to make a speech this morning. About what, I don't know."

Xena didn't reply. She found herself idly studying her own reaction, blank and unfocused as it was, wondering why she wasn't saying anything, why she wasn't rebutting Nebula's accusations. And then Eve's wail cut through the sudden silence, and as if in a dream Xena went to the playpen and picked the baby up. Eve's hand went to her mother's face, almost as if she was trying to offer comfort. "I..." Xena started to say and then found herself unable to complete the sentence. She swallowed, tried again. "I... Nebula, you know Joxer wasn't in any kind of conspiracy with Khalil."

"I know." Nebula slumped into the chair. "I don't even think Khalil was in the conspiracy with Khalil."

"I thought you were, frankly."

"Oh, thank you." Nebula leaned back. "That's what makes you a good warrior, Xena--you always look at all the possibilities. A good warrior--but a lousy guest. I could have used a thank you some time over the past couple of months, y'know."

Xena bit back the automatic reply. Nebula was...right. "Okay. I deserved that."

"Damn right you did." Nebula rubbed her temple. "And now what? Apparently we still have an unknown assassin at large."

"And that means--" An instinctive fear flashed into Xena's mind. Gabrielle. She pushed it back; Gabrielle could take care of herself. But she needed to find her quickly, talk to her and see what if anything they could figure out about where the situation stood. "That means trouble," she finished, her mind working again now that it had a safe problem to gnaw on. "Does anyone know yet?"

"Only the Guard. But by dawn they'll start to gather in the plaza, and as the day goes on and there's no sign of the execution people are going to start talking. We don't have much time."

"Not at all." Xena walked over to a chair and sat down, facing Nebula. "So what are we going to do?"

"Call a truce," Nebula said, "and work together. Like the old days, except without the drinking."

Xena considered this for a long moment. "Okay."

"Okay. Friends, then?" Nebula studied Xena's expression. "Or at least not enemies."

"I can live with that." Xena half-smiled. "If you can."

-31-

Within a few steps down the corridor from Nebula's chambers Gabrielle found one of the labyrinth entrances and headed through the small, dank tunnel toward the dungeon, emerging on the steps a few feet above the lower room. The Guards who stood outside the door silently allowed her passage. Maybe it was because she was the Queen's Guard; probably it was because of the expression on her face. In any case, they opened the heavy door and let her inside.

That surge again. Moving entirely on instinct, she passed by three of the small cells on one side and stopped at the fourth, peering through the bars. There was something on the floor. Someone? Sinking to her knees to get a better look, she called softly without knowing if she wanted an answer. "Joxer?"

No answer. It's not him, it's not a person, it's a trick of the light, she told herself and she reached through the bars, felt cloth and flesh. "Joxer."

"Gabrielle?" He didn't move, and his voice was almost a whisper.

"Yes. Yes, it's me. Joxer, what happened, what did you--"

"Shhhhh." He shifted slowly. "Be quiet, they think I..." He pushed himself onto his knees and staggered to the bars. "They don't want me talking, they tried..." Gabrielle's fingers had already found the bloody lump on his temple, and her breath caught in a hiss. "M'afraid if I let them know I'm 'wake they'll...Gabby, I'm sorry."

"Shh."

"I'm sorry. I let him go."

"I heard."

"He didn't do it, Gab. He..." Joxer had to stop and catch his breath, and Gabrielle held his face in her hands for a long moment. He couldn't pass out. He had to tell her everything, and she'd somehow, somehow, convince Nebula not to do anything rash, somehow calm Suleiman down, somehow...

Somehow she had to get him the fuck out of here, was what. "Joxer," she said softly. "Play dead for a couple more minutes, okay? Don't move until I tell you it's all right."

He nodded and curled back up on the floor. Gabrielle stood up. She went to the door, and knocked. The guards checked through the window, to make sure she was alone, and let her out of the cell area. "Thank you," Gabrielle said, pulled a sai, and in two smooth motions hit first one guard and then the other at the base of the neck with its handle. The guards dropped, one, two, and Gabrielle resheathed the weapon. This nerve cluster thing of Xena's really came in handy sometimes.

She dragged the guards inside the jail area, allowing the door to lock behind her as she did so. She unlocked one of the large cells, dragged them inside, tied them to the benches and gagged them, and locked the cell behind her. She went to Joxer's cell, fumbled with one key after another until the door gave way, then threw the keys between the bars of another cell where they fell into the rushes and disappeared from view. Joxer had remained obediently still through all this--at least she hoped it was obedience--and she knelt by him and shook his shoulder gently. "Joxer? All clear."

He pushed himself up slowly, shaking his head. He wasn't in good shape--that was a nasty bump, and even in the dim light she could see other bruises. But he was moving. "Gabrielle? What--"

"I'm getting you out of here. Come on." She slipped his arm around her shoulder and hauled him to his feet, while he protested weakly, "No. You'll get into trouble, they'll think you were in on it too, they..."

"In on what? Xena and I know you're not in any stupid assassin conspiracy, and I think Nebula knows too, or will once she's calmed down. In the meantime--" In the meantime she hadn't thought anything through beyond the fact that she had to get Joxer away, before some "accident" happened to prevent him from ever giving his side of the story. "In the meantime, we'll get out of here through the labyrinth, get word to Xena somehow, and... and we'll get through this. Don't worry." She led him not to the door but to the very end of the line of cells. There was a small alcove on the left with an entrance to the passageways. "Duck," she said and they stumbled under the low sill into the tiny, dank tunnel. It was a little narrow for two people, and definitely too short for Joxer. "You know where we're going, I hope," he muttered.

"They don't use this one a lot. It's too small."

"Tell me about it--ow!"

"Watch your head."

"Oh, thanks. Gabrielle, I've gotta talk to you, I think I know--"

"And stop talking. Save your strength." Gabrielle was panting herself. The air was close and stale, and Joxer was not a light burden. Even if he could move entirely on his own, the passage was too small for him to be able to do so without the two of them spreading out, and in the dark he could easily miss a turn and wind up down a side tunnel.

"Gabrielle, this's 'mportant."

"Shut up, darn it. In a little bit we'll get to one of the Guard tunnels. They're bigger, and lighted--and we can get pretty much anywhere from there, including down to the waterfront or out beyond the city walls." Assuming Joxer could make it that far. Damn. Gabrielle tried to think of some way they could get him to Xena without being discovered; but once it was found he'd escaped, they'd have Xena under guard. And Xena would not like that, not one little bit. Or maybe... Light up ahead. "Here," she said, relieved. "Hang on, a few more steps, and..."

And they emerged, blinking, into the large tunnel. It was wide enough for four Guards to move abreast, and the torches along the wall were kept lit. "They've got to use this one a lot," Joxer said. He'd more or less stood, although still leaning on her, but he was becoming more alert and studying the surroundings. Good. They were going to need all the help they could get. Gabrielle went over the layout in her mind, and realized they were almost directly below the royal chambers. She looked at the ceiling, wishing she'd learned some of those shaman things Xena did. Xena, she thought as hard as she could. Here we are, come and get us. Here Xena. Nice Xena... Nope, that wasn't going to work. Darn. "This way," she said and turned to the left. The tunnel floor sloped slightly upward and seemed to end, but as they approached they could see it actually turned sharply right, sloping downward once more. Gabrielle paused. She knew the route, but sneaking out of tricky places was Joxer's specialty. "Where do you think we should go from here?" she asked. "Any suggestions?"

"I--" Joxer began and suddenly tensed, staring at the bend in the passageway. Gabrielle followed his gaze without knowing why at first, and then Suleiman stepped into view.

He was alone, without the Guard, and Gabrielle breathed a cautious sigh of relief. "Suleiman."

"Stand aside, little one."

"Suleiman, you know Joxer has nothing to do with any damn conspiracy. And if he's right about Khalil, the real assassin's still at large, we need to--"

Joxer said softly, "There never was an assassin." He stood up fully and let go of Gabrielle, moving away from her and never taking his eyes off Suleiman. "Was there?"

"Of course there was," Suleiman said. He held his sword at the ready and did not lower it. "You miss the point, outlander."

"No, I don't," Joxer said. Gabrielle looked from one to the other, slowly catching up to the conversation and hating every step of the way. "Who'd benefit from Nebula being killed? Not Khalil, because everyone would know he was the assassin since it was his dagger, and a traitor wouldn't be allowed to take the throne. Not Hassim, because he was already banished. And the entire Lion House is disgraced from being associated with them, so the next ruler couldn't come from there." Joxer continued to move over to the side, drawing Suleiman's attention away from Gabrielle. "The only people who could benefit would be one of the other Houses with a claim to the throne. The Bull House, or--"

"The Leopard House," Gabrielle found herself saying. It didn't make sense. The words were there, the logic was there, but it didn't make sense. "No. That can't be. Suleiman, you wouldn't--"

"I would not," the Guard said quietly, with immense dignity. "I am sworn to protect the Queen at all costs. I would die myself before allowing her to come to the slightest harm. You understand some, softskin," he said with a nod at Joxer, "but not all. Nebula was never a target. The target was actually Hassim." He turned now to look at Gabrielle. "It would remove the contenders for the throne, but I had also intended it as a gift for you, little one. To have revenge upon the man who used your friend so foully."

"You tried to kill Hassim." The world did not make a whole lot of sense all of a sudden, and Gabrielle found herself reaching for her sai.

"Hassim would be dead," Joxer said, "Khalil disgraced, and Nebula has no heirs. So if she never married, the throne would pass to--"

"To Kwame." Suleiman sighed. "I had hoped to avoid this, little one, but as all warriors must, we have to face our fates. Mine is to die knowing that my son and my House will gain the throne. Yours is to die knowing you have helped this to happen. I am sorry," he said and he sounded like he meant it. "I shall make this quick."

He moved suddenly, with that speed that always took Gabrielle by surprise--but as fast as he moved, Joxer moved faster. He charged Suleiman silently, ferociously, without weapon or strategy, smashing headlong into him in a clumsy tackle and driving the Sumerian back. And Suleiman hadn't been expecting it. He stumbled backwards, looking almost surprised, and the two men grappled for a moment, almost losing their footing--and then the sword moved too fast to follow and the torchlight flashed brightly off the blade, a spray of blood glistened in the light, and the Guard shoved Joxer aside as he would toss away a used rag. Joxer fell against the wall, arms clamped over his abdomen, and slid to the floor.

Gabrielle screamed. Like an hunting hawk, like an stooping eagle, and she threw herself at Suleiman without any thought beyond burying her sai in him up to their hilts. He stepped easily aside from her charge and swung at her as she went by, and she barely came to herself in time to turn away from the blade and jump outside its range--almost. The tip of the sword left a deep cut in her cheek, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Control, she thought. Maintain control. A warrior has to maintain control...Suleiman came in again, and she barely blocked the strike in time, so hard and fast the shock numbed her right wrist and she nearly dropped the sai. He kept coming, not giving her time to catch her breath, and she kept circling, keeping herself from being backed against the wall, fighting for a control she couldn't muster. If she let him push her into the narrower part of the corridor, or over the raised part and into the downward-sloping tight corner, it would all be over. Focus, damn it. Focus. She couldn't concentrate on what was happening, ducking and dodging by rote, her mind and body wanting to take over and needing to be fought down, controlled. Focus. A swing at her side, and instinctively she moved to avoid it--and slammed herself into the wall.

Idiot! She'd lost too much ground. Nowhere to retreat now. Almost weeping with fury at herself, she turned another strike. She'd blown it. Blown it because she couldn't focus the way a warrior should, couldn't drive down her emotions, didn't have enough control. She would die, and Xena would grieve herself to death, and Joxer--Suleiman swung directly down at her head, taking advantage of his height and reach, and she held out her arms and crossed the sai and caught the sword between them, as she had done in all those practices, and it was over. She'd lost. Just like in all those practices Suleiman would withdraw the sword and come around underneath and she wouldn't be able to stop him, and...

Joxer.

She'd been doing as everyone said, holding in, holding back, and it hadn't worked with Joxer, had it? It was allowing herself to feel that had saved him, both of them, in the garden. It was allowing herself to be mad, to be angry, to be.. to be Gabrielle.

And suddenly everything in her surged together all at once. She stopped fighting the rage and the grief that had been making her legs shake and her mind whirl and let it wash over her, carrying her along like a wave. It all rolled up from the pit of her belly, smooth and unstoppable and she flowed with it. All of her, mind, spirit, body, alike was a single wave of water, liquid, ungraspable, and in that fraction of a second when Suleiman started to withdraw the sword she pushed one sai farther up the blade and twisted it in an easy, smooth motion so that the blade was momentarily trapped in the sai's handle-guard and interrupted his move.

It was very easy. Suleiman was surprised and outbalanced, and although the sword was stilled he himself kept moving forward. All she had to do was to ease the sword out wide to one side and hold the other sai up and out with her good hand and let him run himself onto it. Then there was a small blank space in which she seemed to stop thinking until the weight and the blood running down her arm brought her back to herself. She pushed the body to the side where it fell heavily against the floor, and stood still a moment, panting, feeling the burning in her arms and shoulders and back. There was blood all over her arm and hand, and it was sticky. Gross, she thought mildly, and started wiping the sai on the tail of her shirt. She had to clean it. Suleiman said you always had to clean your weapons after a fight. It cleared the mind.

"Gabrielle," Joxer gasped. He had pushed himself to his feet, leaning against the wall, one arm still clamped across his belly, the other reaching for her. "Are you..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." The cut on her cheek suddenly stung like fire. She wiped the blood away. "It's nothing."

"I mean..." Joxer looked at Suleiman.

"I..." She followed his gaze to the body, and her gut knotted. This was just never easy, never, no matter what Xena said, and later she'd have to--"I, I don't know. I will be, though. I..." And Joxer understood. She knew he understood, and she was more grateful than she could say. He took a shaky step toward her and they pulled each other into a careful hug. "Joxer, thank you," she said numbly, unable to put it all into words. She buried her face against his chest for a moment, then mentally shook herself and pulled gently at his arm. "We'll talk later. First we have to get that tied up, and then we have to get you out of here."

He allowed her to pry aside the arm. The sword had slit the skin almost all the way across his belly, the cut bleeding fiercely, but the blousy shirt had hidden the actual contour of his body and the blade had never gone deep enough to cut into the gut itself. Gabrielle almost wept with relief. "It's not that bad," she said. "Here, I'll..." She took off her shirt and bound it firmly around him. "You'll be okay," she said. "As soon as we get to Xena and Nebula, we'll..."

She stiffened, without knowing why at first. Joxer looked away from her, down the darkened passageway, and then she realized he heard what she did: guards approaching. More than one. Approaching to find them there with Suleiman dead at their feet.

The sound reverberated faintly in the empty halls. "Well," Joxer said abruptly, his voice shockingly normal, "that's it, then." He pushed himself away from her and stumbled to Suleiman's body, falling to his knees beside it. "Sword," he muttered, prying the corpse's fingers away from its hilt.

Die with a sword in his hand, like the warrior he always wanted to be, like the hero he always had been. "Joxer," she said softly.

He stood up slowly, wincing. "Maybe they'll think I did it," he said. "Maybe they'll think you had nothing to do with it, let you go…" He was unable to put even a little bit of conviction into the words, and his voice trailed off.

"Joxer, I have to talk to you."

"Oh, not now, Gabrielle." He moved in front of her, facing the bend in the passageway. The sounds were louder.

"Yes, now. I don't want to go off dying again without letting you know."

That got his attention, as she'd known it would. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"I love you," she said. She stood on her toes and pulled his face gently down to hers. "I'm in love with you. I just wanted you to know." She kissed him lightly, trying to put everything she was feeling into that brief contact. "Now then," she said brightly, "let's fight our way out of the dungeons and make a miraculous escape."

There would be no miracle. He looked into her eyes, his own eyes alight with the same whirl of emotions she'd had in her kiss, and touched her cheek briefly. It stirred a small memory which died before it reached the light and, unable to look at each other any more, they turned away to stand side by side and await the guards. The footsteps grew closer as the guards approached the turn. The sound pounded in Gabrielle's ears like the beat of her own heart, louder, louder...and a voice commanded, "Stand where you are."

The Guard came into view. A full dozen of them, at the ready, and leading them was the still-feared, still-fabled Xena, and alongside her Nebula, the Pirate Queen of Sumeria. The two women held their swords at the ready, took in the scene, looked at Gabrielle and Joxer with matching level, unreadable gazes.

There was silence.

"I can explain," Gabrielle said.

At this everyone started talking at once, the Guards, Nebula, Xena, and Xena almost ran to Gabrielle and was examining the cut on her face, and Nebula was snarling at the Guard as they tried to press forward, and at the same time gasping at the sight of Suleiman's body on the floor, and people were talking in Greek and in Sumerian and in the middle of all of this Gabrielle's attention was for some reason drawn to Joxer, and she saw his eyes roll up and she darted forward to catch him as he slipped to the floor, and her own howl drowned out all the other voices in her ears.

-32-

JOXER WAS hot and cold by turns, shivering uncontrollably though the Sumerian heat flooded the room. He dozed fitfully, pain and heat and cold refusing to allow him rest, and once he woke up and he was in his bed at home with Jett and Jace, watching a spider walk across the ceiling and not wanting to call their attention to it because they would want to kill it, and once he woke up and he was in a battle outside some village he'd forgotten the name of long ago, and that man he had seen crawling away holding his own guts in his arms this time did not crawl but stood up and shouted at Joxer, calling him all kinds of names and all of them true, and one time he woke up and he was on his knees in the snow on the mountain and his heart tearing itself to pieces within his chest, and again, and again, and again, and it was cold and he couldn't get up and he couldn't tear his eyes away and he wanted to die, and again, and again, and again. Gabrielle. Gods. Gabrielle.

"Shh." A soft voice, soft hands. "She'll be right back. Joxer...easy now, hush."

He didn't want to hush. She went away? What was up with that? On the other hand, why would she stay? He'd almost gotten her killed, made her kill her teacher, disgraced her as badly as he'd disgraced Xena. He had to find her. He had to beg her forgiveness though he would never receive it. He tried to get up, and the world exploded into pain.

"No," said the voice, firmly now. "No. Lie still." The hands pushed him down and try as he might he could not shake them off. The hands. Holding him down, he couldn't move, and those soft voices that brought such pain with them, and he was trapped, and they were holding him, and they were about to...

"Joxer!" The voice cut through the fog, expecting to be obeyed. "Hold still. Please, baby. Listen to me. Hold still. Everything's all right now. No one's going to hurt you."

Bull. He tried once again to get loose, and something deep inside him tore. He would have screamed if he'd had the breath to do it--and if he hadn't known how much they liked it when he screamed.

"Joxer, sweetheart. It's me. Xena."

He blinked, forced his eyes open. He couldn't see clearly, but he could sense--or was it another dream? "Xena?" he asked, not wanting to know. Gods, not Xena. He couldn't face Xena.

"Yes, it's me. You lie still now, okay? Everything's all right."

He tried to focus on her face. "Gabrielle--"

"She's asleep. She wouldn't go rest until she was sure you were going to be all right, so you lie still and relax, okay? Otherwise you'll make her upset, and I don't like it when Gabrielle's upset, do I?"

His gut twisted in fear. She was still angry. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Shh."

"I'm sorry. I know you..." He tried to dodge it yet again, but it was forcing its way to the surface and he was too weak to stop it. "...I know I shamed you."

There. It was out. Joxer was too tired to react. Let her do what she would with him. It didn't matter now.

It was a long moment before Xena spoke. "Joxer, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry," he said again, numbly. The words had no power, they never did. What good did it do to be sorry after the fact? "I should have thought of something else. I shouldn't have given up my sword, I..."

Xena took his face in her hands and pried his eyelids open with her thumbs, forcing him to look at her. Her expression seemed odd. "Joxer..."

He couldn't stop talking. He was too weak to even breathe it seemed, and yet he couldn't stop talking. "I know... shamed you, know... weak, I should have fought them, shouldn't have let them..."

"Joxer, I..." Her voice sounded weird, almost not like her at all.

"I knew. I knew you were mad, could tell the way you wouldn't look at me, I..." It was so cold. Cold like that water in the harbor, cold like the depths of the ship at night when it was stormy and they were all chained in the hold for human ballast to keep the ship from sinking, even if they might wish it otherwise.

"I... I didn't think you wanted to talk about it. I thought if you did, you would come to me, I..." There was something wrong. Something wrong with her voice, with her expression, and Joxer wondered if this was just another dream.

"You would have been madder," he said. "A real warrior wouldn't..."

"A real warrior wouldn't turn aside when her friends needed her," Xena said softly, and the words cut worse than the sword had.

"I'm sorry," he said again helplessly, "I..."

"Not you. Me." She placed her hand on his forehead for a brief minute and held it there. "I didn't know, I didn't...want to know. Forgive me, baby." Her hand was cool where he was so hot, though the shivering wouldn't stop. "Forgive me."

Forgive? What was there to forgive Xena for? "But..."

"Shh." She took his hand and placed it on something lying at his side. Cold and smooth under his fingers, like ivory, like...like the hilt of Suleiman's sword. He lifted his head, despite the pain, trying to see. "Xena, what..."

"Yours. You've earned it."

"I can't. It's a prince's sword, it.. I don't deserve..."

"You don't deserve so little, but it's all that I have right now." Xena gently pushed him back down once more, and Joxer marveled. He must be very, very sick because he was imagining he saw tears on her cheek, and he must be dreaming the whole thing. "Listen," she said. "I'm not angry. I'm not ashamed. I'm proud of you, Joxer, I'm very proud of you and I want you to get better, all right? Now go to sleep and when you wake you'll feel better. I promise."

Xena was proud of him? "Promise?" he whispered, not daring to believe.

"Promise." She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

Promise. Joxer clung to that word. He squeezed her hand in return, a feeble flick of the fingers, no more, and allowed himself to sink down into the darkness. Gabrielle was safe, and Xena was ...proud. If this was true, then nothing waited for him there he couldn't face. Nothing at all. He wanted to say something to Xena, thank her, but could not find the words, and fell asleep before he could even start looking.

-----

"What happens now?" Gabrielle asked dully.

She couldn't seem to really care. Beyond the fact that she and Joxer and Xena and Eve were all together, none of the rest of it seemed to matter. She knew it was mostly a function of the fight and the herbs Xena had given her to help her rest (and Joxer was right, they did smell like fermented cow dung), and she had to know what was going to happen in order to figure out what they would do next--but still, she couldn't seem to really care. She slumped on the chaise Xena had pulled into Joxer's chamber for her, clinging to his hand as he slept. Xena had bullied her into sleeping in her own bed, but she had wakened within a couple of hours and insisted on coming back here. Xena was so darn bossy sometimes.

"Nebula's going to have the Guard announce the execution has been postponed." Xena sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, Eve sitting quietly in her lap. The baby had fussed until she had been brought in to see for herself that Joxer and Gab were all right, and Xena had bowed to the unspoken pressure and allowed her to remain, though not without grumbling about being blackmailed by her own child. Xena had been grumbling ever since they had come upstairs, almost non-stop. "She said she can always use the excuse that the priests didn't think the day was auspicious."

"You mean she can lie," Nebula announced cheerfully.

Xena and Gabrielle looked up. The Queen had apparently invited herself into the apartment and now pulled back the curtain to Joxer's chamber and waltzed in, alone, her confident swagger unmarred. "Which is exactly what I did, so no offense. How you feeling, Blondie?"

She sounded like she was genuinely concerned, in a rough, offhand Nebula-ish way. "Okay. Not hurt," Gabrielle amended. Physically the cut and sore muscles were nothing, and Xena's herbs the worst of it. She saw Nebula's eyes travel to the bed, and sensed her reluctance to interrupt. "He's fine," Gabrielle said. "He's just going to have to rest for a few days until that cut heals up, is all." She saw Nebula relax, relieved--and found to her own surprise she was happy to have put Nebula's mind at ease. Surprise upon surprise today.

"What do you intend to do?" Xena asked the Queen. "The crowd's got to be angry."

"Well--" Nebula dropped into a chair. "You know how you just said I was going to lie to them?"

"You'll lie to them some more?"

"Actually, what I did was I lied to you." Nebula waited for the response, and when it didn't come, she went on. "See, what I really did was when it came time for the execution I went out and faced them by myself."

"You did what?" Xena half-rose out of her chair. Eve cooed.

"See, that's why I lied to you, because I knew you'd overreact. Anyway--" Nebula shrugged. "I took a page from Joxer's book. I told them the truth."

"You, you...without the Guards, without..."

"Xena." Gabrielle said affectionately. "Shut up. Nebula, what did you do?"

"I said what had happened. I said that it had been discovered that Khalil had not tried to assassinate me after all, but had been framed in an attempt to discredit the Lion House. I said that ever since I ascended the throne I'd been trying not to rule by force of arm and royal fiat, but to rule with the people instead of over them. I said that because of that I wasn't gonna hide all these machinations from everyone as was traditional but bring them into the open, and I said this is the way I as Queen rule and they were all just going to have to get fucking used to it. I left out 'fucking', but it was implied. Then I waited to see if they were gonna lynch me."

Gabrielle was fascinated. She could see the picture in her mind. Nebula, with her arrogance and her gall and her total conviction that anything she said or did was right--and it was perfect. "So then they killed you, right?"

"Gabrielle!" Xena snapped. Eve laughed and clapped.

"Nah. I think the representatives of the Houses looked like they were about to drop dead on the spot, me airing the Court's dirty laundry in public. But most of the crowd seemed quite happy with it. A scandal's even better than an execution, y'know--more opportunities for gossip. There was a lot of yelling, and somebody started clapping, and some cheering, and I left before they all decided to get drunk and pull down the garret. Which they might but hell, the thing's an eyesore anyway."

Xena took a deep breath. "That is one of the single stupidest things I have ever heard anyone do in my entire life."

"The Court hates me now. So much for 'Gee, we're so glad you're not killed'."

"You're a moron. An utter moron."

"Oh, Xena, don't be so uptight."

"'Uptight'? You kidnap me all the way from Egypt to watch your back and then you go and pull a stupid stunt like this?"

Gabrielle found herself grinning. "You know what?" she said. "You two should have been partners. I can't believe either of you passed up an opportunity like that. You'd be ruling the Mediterranean by now. Unless you'd killed each other."

"Never work, Blondie." Nebula shook her head gravely. "Ms. Great-and-All-Powerful-Warrior-Princess here can't stand the thought of working with equals."

"That's right," Xena said. "I never could." She met Gabrielle's eyes and smiled, one of her rare, genuine smiles. "Not until now." She reached for Gabrielle's free hand and they clasped hands, fingers entwined.

"Gah!" said Nebula after a moment and smacked the arms of the chair for emphasis. "I'm gonna gag if I have to look at any more of this togetherness shit. Yo, Blondie--put a plaster on that thing and be ready bright and early tomorrow morning. There's going to be a Court session and it's not going to be pretty. Xena, I want to talk to you this afternoon when you're done with all the billing and cooing and ready to be sensible. Got that?" She stood up.

"We love you too, Nebula," Gabrielle said.

"Gah," said Nebula again. She paused for a moment and glanced at the bed, then turned and left. "This afternoon," she called back over her shoulder. "I mean it, Xena." She slammed the front door impressively behind her--not an easy thing, the doors in the palace were large and heavy and required quite a bit of effort to open and close at all. Gabrielle returned Xena's smile. "You're so tactful," she said.

"She deserves it, the--"

"I'm not kidding. You're like two peas in a pod, you two."

"Okay. I know you're ill and everything, Gabrielle, but I still don't have to stand around here and be insulted." Now Xena stood up. "I'm going to go put Eve down for her nap, and I think I need one myself. And so do you. Don't talk back to me, missy," she snapped before Gabrielle could reply. "I want you to sleep, got it?"

"Got it." Gabrielle obediently lay down on the chaise, pulling the blanket up about her with her free hand. Xena snorted, and left the room. Gabrielle noted how conveniently this left her alone with Joxer, and smiled to herself. Xena understood. More than that--she cared. Gabrielle settled herself, and as she did Joxer's fingers twitched about hers and he shifted slightly. "Wha's alla noise?" he mumbled.

"Xena's being cranky again."

"Oh, 's that all." He settled and went back to sleep.

"Yeah." Gabrielle settled down herself and allowed the nasty-tasting herbs to take over. "Everything's back to normal."

-33-

Xena left Eve napping in her crib and made her way once more down the long mosaic-floored halls to Nebula's private chambers. It had become a comforting routine, and she would miss it. Not that it hadn't made her soft, and it was dangerous for her to be soft now. Now that she was returning to Greece and finally face down the gods once and for all. No room for softness there.

Softness, such as a baby?

She put the thought out of her head and entered Nebula's audience room. The Queen was seated at her writing desk, an ewer of wine and several scrolls spread on the table in front of her. "It's not locked," she said, waving her hand in the direction of the door. "Come on in."

"Some security," Xena said. "Nebula, you're going to get yourself killed."

"Which is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Sit down, Xena. I know you think the effect of that sourpuss of yours is better when you stand, but sit down anyway."

Trying not to scowl, which would only give Nebula a victory, Xena sat down. "What are you doing about getting your staff in order? You need to put someone at the head of the Guard soon. They're still not all buying what happened."

"No," said Nebula, "because a lot of them are from the Leopard House and they suspect treachery. And most of the rest are from the Bull House, and they hate the Leopards. And then there are a few from lesser Houses, and they hate everybody. Business as usual." She turned around to face Xena. "What would you do? Give me an idea."

"I wouldn't promote any one of them," Xena said. "Any selection you make would be seen as showing favor to that particular House. You need to get someone from outside the entire political structure of the Guard to take over." She thought for a moment. "What about Khalil? It would show that you believe him to be innocent."

"It would show that I was stupid," Nebula said. "Khalil's lazy and he's really not a good fighter. He doesn't even hunt all that well. But you're thinking the same thing I'm thinking, and I'm glad you agree."

Too late Xena saw the trap. "No," she said firmly.

"Head of the Guard, and by extension Commander-in-Chief of the army."

"No."

"Pretty good deal. The most power in the kingdom, aside from the Queen, of course."

"No. Gabrielle and I are going back to Greece. You wanted us to help you, we did, and now..."

"And now I'm asking you to stay on. The bunch of you. Gabrielle's a great bodyguard, even if she is still a little uptight. Joxer still has a better grasp of the politics than anyone else in the kingdom--what he figured out about Khalil and Suleiman proves it. And Eve, heck, everybody loves Eve. Sumeria is a great place for kids, if you want them spoiled rotten."

"Are you forbidding me to go?" Xena asked in a dangerous voice. She met Nebula's eyes.

The Queen looked back, not intimidated. After a long moment, she said, "I'm asking you not to go. If for no other reason, I'm asking you as a friend not to go. You needn't stay here, although I would love it if you did--but Xena, you've got a great life now. You've got Gabrielle. You've got Eve and Joxer. You have a family, and a chance to make them happy. Don't throw it all away for some stupid notion of honor."

"Nebula, you know why I have to go back."

"I do. I used to think that way myself, but things changed. I have to think of the throne now. And you have to think of your daughter."

Xena sighed, and looked at her old friend. There was a seriousness to Nebula she'd never seen before, a strength in her aura that hadn't been there in the old days. "How can I live with myself," she asked quietly, "if I don't face that battle?"

"How can you live with yourself if you don't face your responsibilities?"

Xena folded her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and tried to put all out of her mind. Empty your thoughts, Lao Ma had said, and what remains is truth.

Lao Ma. Someone lost to her forever. She tried to think of the same thing happening to Gabrielle, or Eve, or Joxer--and couldn't face it. She had to decide--

No. She opened her eyes and found Nebula patiently waiting for her to speak. "I can't tell you right now, Nebula."

"I understand."

"No. I mean I can't make this decision on my own. It involves all of us, and all of us have to be involved." She stood up, and turned for the door.

"I envy you, Xena," Nebula said softly. Xena paused with her hand on the knob. "I envy you that you have people who have to be taken into consideration. Whatever you decide, whether you stay in the palace, go somewhere else, even, gods of the deep forbid, go back to Greece--never give that up."

Xena's eyes stung for a moment, some bit of ancient dust in them. "I don't want to," she said. "Whether it's honorable or not...I don't want to."

She stepped out into the elaborately decorated hall, and as if for the first time noticed the mosaics underfoot as she walked back to her chambers.

-----

When Joxer woke up again he did feel better, so Xena had been right. He ached all over and he still felt pretty hot, but his mind was fairly clear and he wasn't shivering any more. He felt cramped and uncomfortable from lying on his back for so long, and he tried to roll over on his side. This was a major mistake. Fire tore across his belly and for a moment the world went white and featureless while he gasped futilely for air. Then he heard voices, somebody making little whimpering sounds--that was probably himself, darn it--and someone else saying, "Whoa, easy there, easy." The hands that belonged to the other voice eased him back onto the pillow, and the fog cleared, and he said, "Gabrielle."

She smiled at him with half her face. "Hey, hero," she said softly. "How you doing?"

"A lot better." She wasn't mad. She hadn't gone, and she wasn't mad. "A lot better, now." He reached up to touch her face, and realized the half-smile was due to that deep, nasty-looking cut on her left cheek preventing any movement on that side. He sucked in his breath with a hiss, waved the tips of his fingers above the scab but held back from touching it. "Gabrielle, are you--"

"It's all right. It doesn't hurt that much. Xena says it'll probably leave a scar," she added, and her eyes slid away for a minute.

Joxer touched the wound briefly, as gently as he could. "A warrior scar," he said. "You'll look more beautiful than ever."

Gabrielle ducked her head away from his hand, but her expression was pleased rather than otherwise. Pleased, and--relieved? But how could Gabrielle ever be anything less than beautiful? She looked back at him, and he asked, "And how are you doing?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

"Gabrielle, I'm sorry about Suleiman, I..."

"Not your fault." She kissed him on the forehead and held him gently, avoiding anything that would cause him pain. "I..." She lay her face against his neck and did not speak.

After a long minute, he cautiously reached up and stroked her hair. "Gabrielle," he said. "A very wise person told me once...it gets better. Just hang on to the people who love you, and it gets better."

She lifted her head. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she was smiling. "That must be a very wise person indeed."

"The wisest person I know," Joxer said. He pulled her face to his and they shared a long, sad, warming kiss.

-34-

Gabrielle spent most of the next few days either with Nebula or asleep. She was exhausted almost all of the time, and Nebula allowed her to nap in her private chambers as long as she wasn't holding any audiences. And she didn't hold any private audiences that Gab could tell; unusual for Nebula, who was continually politicking. When she asked Nebula about this sudden quietude, Nebula merely said she was waiting on something and would tell Gab about it later. Gabrielle was too tired to consider this perverse. Both Nebula and Xena insisted on stuffing her with food and various kinds of herbal teas, all of which tasted like straw, intended to help her get her strength back, and it was coming back bit by bit. She didn't know why she was so tired--she'd barely been hurt in the fight--but Joxer said maybe it was her mind that was tired, with all the stuff it had to deal with the last few days. This almost made sense. In any case, Gabrielle worked, and ate, and slept, and in a while got to the point where she started to feel like herself again.

And Joxer was getting stronger, and this helped her more than a bit. A little more than a week after the fight Xena allowed him to get out of bed, though not without threatening him with horrible consequences if he should tear the wound open again and wreck all her fine work, and Gabrielle would return to the apartments in the afternoon to find him out sitting out in the garden, watching the birds, sometimes holding Eve on his knee and talking nonsense to her. At such times Eve wore a very obviously tolerant expression that both Gabrielle and Xena recognized well. She learned quickly, Eve did--this is Joxer, and this is how we put up with him.

And late one afternoon when Gabrielle had joined him in the garden and the two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, companionably silent, and Eve crawling from one lap to another to gurgle with delight at a large scarlet bird with long curling golden tailfeathers and a voice like a squeaky hinge, Xena came outside and sat down across from them. Then she recounted the conversation she'd had with Nebula, and waited for a reaction. When no one spoke, not even Eve, she said, "I've made a lot of mistakes over the past year or so. I keep acting like I have only myself to think about, and it's not true. Gods know, Gabrielle, I've been cruel to you in the past because of it."

Gabrielle shook her head. "No need to apologize, Xena. That...we've been through that, we came out the other side fine. Let it go."

"I thought I had." Xena looked at both of them, not just Gabrielle, as she spoke. "But I'm still trying to make all the decisions, deciding on my own what's best for everybody, even when it isn't the best thing at all." This was aimed at Joxer, and he ducked his head shyly down and away, uncomfortable with this unusual situation of Xena upset but not yelling, and neither at him. "And my reaction to Nebula's offer was instinctively no. I wanted to go back to Greece. I wanted to face my enemies, and I wanted...I wanted to soothe my own sense of honor at the expense of the people I loved. Because it would endanger not only you and me, Gabrielle, but our family." She looked at Eve, sitting on Joxer's lap with her small face set in a solemn, thoughtful look. "So I told Nebula that I would discuss it with you all, and that we would decide together. Because if it affects all of us, we should all have a say in the matter. So...what do you want to do?"

Gabrielle glanced at Joxer, who met her eyes and then looked away once more, increasingly nervous. Eve mumbled and remained still. Gabrielle warred with herself. She'd had an instinctive reaction to Nebula's offer too--and it had been exactly the opposite of Xena's. But how could she, if indeed she could at all--

"Xena." Joxer raised his head and faced her, and his voice was level. "Xena, if you go back to Greece, it's stupid."

There was silence at this. Gabrielle felt Joxer shiver, physically, and almost reached out a hand to stop him but held back. "It's stupid, Xena. Just like what you did with Caesar was stupid. And that time I didn't know, because you kept it from me, but if I had known I would never have let you do it. What good does it do to go back there, to fight the gods and lose, to have poor Eve grow up without her mother? I know you and Gabrielle want to go down together, but--"

"No, we don't." Gabrielle found her voice. "Xena, I love you, and if you ask me to go back with you and fight and die at your side I'll gladly do it, but I'd much rather live at your side instead." She searched her soulmate's blue eyes, as inscrutable and deep as always, and wished she could somehow reach into there, in the place where Xena lived, and make her understand. "What about you, Xena?" she asked softly. "Would you rather die than live with me?"

"Never," Xena said. It was a statement of fact. "Never." She looked from one to the other, then got up and took Eve from Joxer. Eve made a contented sound and curled in her mother's arms. "Maybe it's time to change," she said softly. "Maybe."

"It doesn't all change," Gabrielle said. "I will always love you no matter what."

"So will I," Joxer said, almost too softly to hear. He slipped his arm around Gabrielle's waist and squeezed her briefly, in a hug that was as much for his own reassurance as hers.

"So. It's agreed? We stay here, at least for the time being, and serve the Queen of Sumeria?" Xena looked at all three faces in turn, and smiled for the first time in days. "Well--it looks like I'm a commander again. Maybe Nebula will let me take over a few of the neighboring countries. Just for old times' sake."

Gabrielle groaned theatrically, and threw herself against Joxer's shoulder, laying a hand to her forehead like a Thracian dancer. "Spare me."

Eve laughed, and so did Joxer, and after a moment Xena did too. The red bird gaped at this for a long second, then took wing and flew away from the mad two-leggeds in the garden below.

-Epilogue-

After dinner Gabrielle went in search of Joxer, who was back out in the garden trying to meditate. She had been trying to teach him how, but whenever he stopped thinking he wound up falling asleep. He had at least progressed to the point where he could sleep sitting up instead of instantly tumbling over to the ground, and for Joxer that was probably good progress. He was asleep now. Gabrielle tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"I wasn't sleeping," he said without opening his eyes.

"Okay."

"No, really, I wasn't. I was kind of...not there." He did open his eyes now, blinking them and shaking his head a little. "It was weird. But a good weird."

Gabrielle was surprised. It sounded like he was getting the point. "Wow," she said for lack of anything better, and climbed up on the rock behind him. The sky was growing dark, and now that the moon was waning its cold light no longer blotted out the stars and they glowed imperiously across the bowl of the sky. Joxer loved looking at the sky, and at times like this Gabrielle could see why. "Wow," she said again, honestly.

"It's really clear tonight." Joxer looked up, his head tilted at an inquisitive angle. "What do you really think, Gabrielle? About staying here, living in the palace, working for Nebula?"

"It'll be different." She sighed, and looked into the oncoming night. "But a good different. We'll have more time to just enjoy ourselves, instead of always running. Heck, I'll even have enough time to start writing again."

"It'd make a great story, wouldn't it?" Joxer said.

"What would?"

"Any of it."

"A story, huh?" Gabrielle gathered him into her arms and leaned back. "Okay, try this one. Once upon a time there was a little farmgirl who went off to see the world. And she saw many wonders and had lots of adventures. And many terrible things happened to her, but also many wonderful things, and one of the most wonderful things of all was that she won the heart of a handsome Athenian prince, and they were inseparable ever afterwards."

Joxer's smile was barely visible in the twilight. "Did they live happily ever after?"

"We'll see." Gabrielle nuzzled him affectionately and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "We'll see."