FINAL DRAFT: 042400
The retreat had been very swift.
Xena hadn't run by her side the
whole way, just at the very first,
until they were up in the trees.
Then she was gone.
Eudora had felt the absence, more than noticed.
When she realized the fact, she slowed to a stop. Her breathing was heavy and her side pained anyway.
She was close enough to the Amazon border that it was safe to pause and lean idle near the heart of a tree. She felt very sick, as if her stomach would rebel any moment, but she knew it was too soon for her pregnancy to affect her. She decided it must be an aftershock of the battle and she trembled with the ferocity of reaction. It seemed wise to rest, and catch her breath.
Just for a moment.
And in that moment she was overwhelmed by a sharp, dizzy sensation. When she recovered, she felt the stab of Jacosta's caution, and placed her hand upon her belly, feeling, testing. For what, she wasn't quite sure, except that things felt...different...not right. Her skin crawled with the thought. She opened her eyes, only then aware that she had closed them.
Xena had been just behind, or so Eudora remembered. The warrior princess had been encouraging the Amazons, hastening them back to the encampments. In fact, those Amazons were quickly passing her now. They seemed to fly through the trees like great squirrels. Silently she made a count of them. The number seemed smaller than she recalled.
'Surely there had been more than this,' Eudora thought as she tallied the names of her sisters. True there had been many who'd gone down in the fight, but.... A woman, still wearing the mask of a hawk, stopped at Eudora's tree. Her clothing and parts of her body were muddy and splotched with the rust of drying blood. Her muscular weight bent the branch a little where she crouched, but she held herself easily in place. The tall woman lifted her mask from her face and gave Eudora a grim look.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine." Eudora replied as she looked pensively about. "Have you seen Xena?"
Arete shook her head negatively. "Not since the beginning of retreat." The air was warming around them, making the heavy scent of earth lift. The warrior felt sweat upon her brow, but it wasn't from the heat. For some time now, since witnessing Xena's battle with the Goddess, Arete had been feeling queasy.
She gulped back the bile that threatened. Warily she gazed back the way they'd come. Her fingers flexed painfully against the bark where her hand lay, biting into the pulp of the tree as she reached with her mind.
The finding took her, and it seemed, for a moment, as if she were part of the tree itself, the ground and then the sky.
It was all very confusing, but of one thing she was sure. "Xena's back there."
As one they dropped from their perches, going directly against the flow of their sisters and made their way back to the Warrior Princess.
Xena crouched, hidden from her enemies, against a tall stone. Cold seeped through her leather to her back, but of the many discomforts the warrior was feeling at the moment, the chill was least of her worries. She spent precious bits of time, strapping her arm to her chest with pieces of leather cut from her battle dress. She was fairly sure that she had a couple of broken ribs. Her leather hadn't protected her from God-driven blows and breathing was hard, sharp and painful. It was her anger which kept her going now, though it blinded her with its intensity. She seethed with rage, and with loss.
The warrior glanced at her broken hand and growled, partially with pain and partially with ire. Her fingers were swollen and bloodfilled, bent at odd angles. One digit in particular was badly mangled and it looked as if it wanted to just fall off.
That was no surprise. Velaska had not been gentle in her theft.
Xena took a calming breath. Then with deliberate skill and using her good hand, she pressed points in her shoulder, her arm, and when she felt the sweet relief of nothing, her wrist. She slowly began to set the bones of her hand and held her mind to the thought that this was nothing that she hadn't been through before.
Her cheek twitched with each crack of bone. Not because it pained her, but because she was counting. And with each number added, a vengengeful bitterness grew, until her eyes seemed to be the color of frost.
They were herded to the center of the encampment, pulled by rope and driven by swords. For a camp that had been attacked not too long ago, these soldiers were in good spirits. Their cruel laughter and taunts, however, only caused the women to lift their heads and firm their walk, even though some were injured.
Iovene breathed deep, striving to calm the fear that raged in her stomach. Her expression was stoic, revealing none of her pain, her terror. She helped a young woman forward by keeping a strong grip of support under her forearm. "Courage," she reminded. It was one of their watchwords, made holy by their constant rememberance of who they were - Daughters of the Gods. Guardians of Tradition. Warriors. Amazon.
She was Amazon.
There was no room for fear here.
The thought didn't really make her innards feel better, but she squared her shoulders proudly when their enemies halted them before a wooden dais.
Though she had never seen him before, she recognized the man who stood so arrogantly in front of them. Unlike his sister, hatred marred his handsome features. He glared, with a sneer, at the women gathered and Iovene was suddenly glad she'd gotten to know his sister before him.
Something peaceful settled within her at that contemplation and she felt, standing there, almost restful. The sun was shining and the sky, free from the mist of the morning, was blue. It wasn't that she became oblivious. Rather, she was aware of the danger that Aulix represented, but his kind of danger was impermanent. It was nothing to a woman who knew she had lived before and would live again. She thought of her soulmates and felt a reprieve from all the anxiety that had threatened her only heartbeats ago.
She was Amazon, yes. But more importantly, she was loved.
Her expression changed with the thought from a mask to one that held a sense of place and calm. Her shoulders relaxed, and though she was weaponless she experienced a definite sense of power, which she knew would carry her through whatever Aulix had planned. She smiled, very slightly, at the young woman besides her and the Amazon nodded once, as if she had said something important.
"Courage," the young Amazon whispered to herself, but it was heard. The word became a silent, shared chant that strengthened them. Though maybe they didn't look quite as calm as Iovene felt.
Aulix spoke then, unaware of the change in attitude the women. They were his prisoners, stripped of their dignity and weapons and therefore powerless before him. They were afraid and it was good.
"Behold Amazons!" He held up the prize. It was small, but glistened gold and jeweled in the sun. Iovene recognized the ring immediately and drew a startled breath.
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