DAMSEL IN THE ROUGH: Amazon Warrior Sarmatian story Zeus bannishes Tasha from New York to Ancient Greece where a serial killer awaits to kill his next time-traveler. Being the protectress of women, Hera offers an out---maybe. Visit page for sample chapters added May 5, 2001 ***Another Bard going for publishing!

I awake, patting a cold depression beside me. He was a good husband. Few would say the same of his wife. It has been ten summers since he began his walk within the Elysian Fields. A place I shall never care to see.

Sunlight stirs hungry animals, he left for me to sustain. I march half-alive before the sun. These years, the barn is larger. His two strapping sons moved far from the mother who wanted someone else. But, I move on.

My life is simple. Sarah, my sister, greets Athenian wanderers emerging for morning meals at our lodge. Our neighbors' farms give parcels of green within our secluded mountain crest. The nominal barrier of my world.

After feeding the chickens, I make the beds for a new day's profits. Then, the kitchen is washed and swept. Passing neighbors always provide more favors I can lend. With my heart asleep in chores, I labor for the hopes of dreamless sleeps.

One day, the patrons left early for their travels. While Sarah serves her husband's lunch, I scrub the lodge's floors beginning in the center. Swirling brush strokes ease a quiet anguish, I have earned. Suddenly, the door opens. Minced steps scurrying to a dried area.

A young woman meekly says, "I'm told you are , Mavis?" Her blonde strands curl about her silky shoulders. An Amazon staff is loose in her skilled grip. Two sparkling hazel eyes gaze down. She says, "Xena's friend?"

I drop my brush in a bucket and climb to my feet. She is a head-length smaller but very fast. I nod in agreement. "You must be the Bard. Gabrielle?"

"Yes," she says. "We must talk."

Taking my bucket, I saunter outside. The sun bakes my trembling body. Maybe this is a dream, another nightmare starting soft. I dump the water on a young garden the farmer's mock behind my back. A petite shadow grows behind me. As I turn, Gabrielle's beaming smile greets me.

I point to a path leading behind the lodge. "You're welcome in my home. Is she with you?"

"Xena's in trouble, Mavis. We were separated in an ambush. I lead the captives to safety but Xena never returned."

I caught sight of a traveler slowing his pace to listen. Gently pushing Gabrielle forward, I say, "You look parched."

We waltz from the center of town. Sarah peeks at a window, one shoulder bare. Her husband's hand pulls her away. No, not again. I move ahead, hoping Gabrielle will keep pace. Two farmers whisper at a trading stand. The Bard hurries ahead on a worn path.

"What about Hercules," I ask. "My horse is rested."

"No good," she says. As we reach a well, she grabs my arm. "Assemble your helpers. Spartans kill at dawn."

I pat her shoulder. "Relax, young one. Help awaits within their camp. I am a friend."

The foolishness of youth. She appeased too quickly to my word.

Twenty winters didn't change the trails over a ridge. Below in a valley, a narrow sandy path descends into a woodland region. It's a few hours of peace before the darkness of Haggis Hills. Riding my best stallion, I follow the Bard's spry mare. It was a obedient and quiet beast. The Bard is a different story.

Gabrielle tugs on her reigns, as the path widens for two. "Xena says the hunt is best here."

As I approach, she rides beside me. Birds chase each other out of a tree-line ahead. I pass her a pouch of biscuits.

She smiles. "I'm a great listener, too."

I whisper, "Giving bandits an advantage is not my idea of comfort." Then, I spur my stallion taking the lead.

She tracks closely. "Do you think they heard me?" She mildly belches. "Sorry . . . Sh, I got it now." Youth is easy to love.

In daylight, dangers are few. But, as night pushes the sun beyond the mountains of Haggis, I veer to a mountain spring and proceed careful and poised. With a skillful arm, I raise my bow to a stag sipping from the bank. Swiftly, my arrow brings the animal to its knees. I send another confirming our supper's silence then race on foot to a 10-point prize.

I wave to Gabrielle slipping off her saddle. "We'll rest here."

"Yes," she says and yawns.

Gabrielle tows our horses to the spring and washes their legs in the cool waters. Slaughtering the carcass, I puncture two venison steaks with arrows and place them aside. Taking an empty bladder-pouch, I pile small carvings of fatty chunks and tug the pouch strings closed.

Hitching our horses to a sapling, Gabrielle nervously twitches to fruit bats swooping for insects. "I'll scout the top of this mountain."

"No," I say. "Stay for supper." I gather twigs in a short stack and scrape a flint till fire blazes.

Gabrielle slowly shies behind a tree. Her steps are almost staggers but too quick to be of weakness. As I sizzle steaks, she wades into the water then sits like a duck in a pond.

I remove a gourd flask from my saddle bag and toss it to her. "Tend the blisters. We ride twice as hard tomorrow."

She catches the pouch, studying me. "Hoofs are loud but my feet are faster."

"Ignore its stench. Supper is waiting."

Wincing from the odor, she applies the salve to her thighs. "When are we leaving?"

"Twilight is our best armor." As she approaches, I pass a sizzling venison steak on an arrow and offer a pinch of dried herbs. It is a trick, Xena used on me, the last trick.

While Gabrielle warms by the fire, I carry my steak to the spring and slip the meat in the water. Food is not wise when war is close. As I return, she has eaten the arrow clean and yawns longer than my husband ever could.

I sit by the fire and warm my hands. "Take the first sleep, I'll wake you."

"I'll be ready," she insists.

It won't be long. Pulling a blanket beside me, she lies down with another long yawn. As I build a stronger fire, her breaths lengthen and deepen. The ointment's odor is noise to a beast's sense of hunger. I toss a thick branch into the blaze, watching her curl like a baby. Then, I collect my bladder pouch, snatch my quiver and arrows, and creep away.

NEXT 2

The Quick and the Dead Director Sam Raimi. Sharon Stone (sort of looks like Lucy Lawless in this shot.) plays a female stranger who comes to the town of Redemption to enter its annual quick-draw competition. Her real motive is revenge on the town's evil boss, Herod (Hackman), for what he did to her family years ago.

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