Debra Winger and Theresa Russell. A femme fatale serial killer lures wealthy men into marriage and murders them for their money. Winger is
the federal agent obsessed with cornering her and solving the crime. In the process, she, too, comes
under the seductive spell of the murderess.
DAMSEL FROM NY
XENA Fan Fiction
©_Ann Logan1, 2, 3, 4
Yes, a kitchen sink. Between Swiss Family Robinson, a teenage-crush for Richard
Dean Anderson in MacGuyver, and a childhood frustrations over Gilligan never leaving
that damn island; it was easy!
Don't expect the same inventiveness of a cut hole, I call my toilet. It's only crude if your
walking below it while in use. Otherwise, it's a cinch to clean and never gets clogged.
I opened my fridge, (damn I'm good!) and poured a few coconut-cups of lemonade (sugared with maple syrup from trees I tapped.)
I said to both, "Listen, I've a guestroom first door on the right. Stay the night."
Gabrielle ran down the hall, peeking into the room. "The beds are huge.
I fondly remember a beau from Texas, bigger is better. "And, there's a cave by the creek where I keep tools and power generators. I'll show you around in the morning."
They stared at me as if I staggered-in from Jersey. As I stepped aside, Gabrielle played with the wooden faucets on my sink. (What a kick, such a kid!)
She asked, "You're water comes from where?"
I marched to a window overlooking a rushing stream then pointed to a mess of bamboo tubing sinking into a cliff. She was right over my shoulder. Xena kept back and stared.
"There's a pump in the cave," I said. "At the end of those water lines. About once a month, I change several charcoal cloth filters for purety."
I got up and saw Xena laying my knives on my counter, a test.
"Occasionally," I said, "I replace the acid in two generators. That's what runs my electric power."
I flicked a wall-switch drawing their curiousity. Leaving my weapons, Xena gently touches the bubbled glass bulb with a slender stretched carbon strands making a bright night light.
"Captured sun," she asked?
I flipped the switch again. "It's just a machine that makes sparks, electricity. Where I'm from, nobody understands it. But, we use it a lot."
Xena waltzed the hall, quietly entering my guestroom. After a long while, I logically assumed, she hit-the-hay. Afterall, it's been a trying morning. I, myself, am whipped. But, Gabrielle kept telling bull-stories about Xena and her taking-on mythological monsters and dragon beasts. Give me a break!
I made a second pitcher of lemonade while she started about Zeus and his really terrific son, Hercules. As you can imagine, I felt nausious. Don't get me wrong, this Hercules-guy sounded great. He cleaned someone's stables (actively self-employed) and half-human. But, apples don't fall far from their trees. Since Zeus is no friend of mine, you know what I thought of his family. Thankfully, my Timex watch chimed 9 o'clock.
"The bewitching hour." I pressed it off.
For once, Gabby was quiet.
"It's a magic omelet," I said. "Reminds me to roll up my rope ladder and head to bed. I must obey."
She stood then stretched while I hit my house lights-off. Pulling a deerhide curtain aside, I enjoyed a full pink moon, high in the sky. Gabby's werewolves tales didn't concern me. Such a kidder!
Gabrielle swallowed the last of her lemonade, as I twined my rope ladder on my porch railing.
She yawned, sharing, "Good night, Tasha."
I pushed her forward as I tip-toed to my room. "Sweet Dreams, Gabby, Gabrielle."
I leaned inches from my down-feather pillow. Each aching limb bidded for a mattess of the same. All of a sudden, the kid raced into my bedroom.
"Xena's gone," she shouted.
I said and whispered, "Maybe she went out for air."
Even I didn't buy it. Moving to the edge of my bed, I searched for my boot with my toes.
I asked, "Did you hear her leave?"
"Xena's a trained warrior," Gabby said. "She can move without sound, whenever
she wants."
As I rolled my eyes, Gabrielle raised her hand with her friend's Frisbee. Her eyes welled
with glisten. I found one boot and slipped it on, then dropped to the floor grabbing another.
"Xena would never leave without her chakram," she said
Leaving my knives on the kitchen table, I felt Xena trusted me, a little. Though, leaving me
with anyone so impressionable as Gabrielle, I think was a little beyond her normal savvy. Stopping my last foot into my boot, I headed down the hall with Gabrielle close behind.
I flipped on the lights of their bedroom, no Xena. From its open window, I spotted her tan horse, Argo, walking about with his expensive saddle dragging on the ground.
Gabrielle yelled, over my shoulder, "We need to go after them!"
I snatched the chakram. "In the morning, sh!"
Seeing my cross-bow by the door, I took my weapon
and headed to the porch. Gabby's long eyes killed me, as I stood by the front door.
"Fine," I said. "We'll go below if you do as I say."
"Yes, Tasha."
I slapped a wall switch, watching my outside lights bright the area. Typically, strangers freaked out. I loved it! Now, it was quiet. As Gabby and I climbed down my rope-ladder, Argo stood still. I saw fresh boot-prints in the dirt. A few tiny darts sparkled, poisoned oil. Some were stuck in Argo's saddle as she approached. Shyly I spied a male silhoutte in a maple limb to my right.
Gabrielle said, "They've got Xena," then crouched to show me a beige cotton hair-tie.
I bowed, whispering to her, "Move back up the tree, kid. We ain't alone."
I raised my arms apart, ignoring several more shadows creeping to the bushes besides us.
I cried to the stars, "I hold the power."
Catching a glimpse of Gabby climbing the top of my rope, I shouted louder, "Artemis, your trusted child, shall hunt these little men for there dirty deeds done dirt cheap." (AC/DC rock n roll is kickin aint it?)
The bushes thrashed from hurried movements. I jumped high on one leg then danced an ancient African ritual, I caught on PBS. (the cable was out, what the hey!) Suddenly, I stopped, gauging the quiet. Again, I raised my hands fanning the chakram.
"Oh, Simpletons, let my demons, rise!"
I dance backwards humming as I hunted for my rope ladder. Then, I glanced up, Gabby had
my cross-bow cocked. Moving like a squirrel, I scaled the tree and pulled the rope.
Gabrielle grabbed my arm. "We have to go after them," she cried.
I pushed her inside and slammed my door. She was stunned yet quick to her feet. I slowly threw several slide-locks and dimmed my inside lights.
"Look," I said, "Xena's alive. In the morning, I'll get her back. Trust me!"
"How do you know they aren't going to kill her?"
"These." I showed her 4 little darts. "Slavetraders shoot them through a blow-tube to make you sleep. From what little I know of your friend, I'd say they got lucky!"
She stepped forward, wanting to leave, then back, wanting to believe me.
I said, "Xena must have been pulling Argo's saddle when they shot her. That's why we heard no cries. That's why we stay up here, tonight."
She wanted to argue.
I shouted, "Tomorrow, we'll visit the local magistrate. Now, get some sleep."
Sure enough, I awoke in the morning and Gabby's bed was empty. It really irks me, that she snuck off in the middle of the night, despite my great advice. And you know, that ain't easy for me, caring for people like that. Being a New Yorker carries certain clashing expectations. I'm entitled to 'ride my broom', if you know what i mean!
By all rights, this should be the end of my tale. But, finding Xena's chakram a few yards from the base of my tree, I knew I wastagged with a duty to save them both. Now, I remember what I hated about friendships.
Using my best cow in trade, I purchased a neighbor's farm horse for fair market value. It was a hour's ride to the next town. But, that village lacked an honest magistrate. (And I had been so good all this blasted time?) My options quickly dwindled. After a half-day ride toward Athens., my farm horse died on the road. Really, I wanted to hold a ceremony but horses are big. Using the sun as a guide, I plodded a winding trek, looking for Xena's friend, Hercules.
What the hell. At worse, Hercules couldn't be a great schlemiel than his old man. If Gabrielle said he was a hero and Xena's friend, maybe I could get along. All right, all right . . . She also said he was enormously handsome.
I passed over some cliffs, finding a lake valley. Looking down, I spied that son-of-a-god, Hercules.
Mm, mm, Hercules. He bathed in sineuous glory and I made ample time to study. He was 6'6", with massive biceps, sharp pecks, and oo-baby what abba dabbas! As I leaned on a boulder for support, I watched his wavey brown hair feather about his forehead. His eyes glittered like a teddy bear I'd won at Rockaway Beach. Manly, so manly in every way!
After Hercules yanked on his tight tan trousers, I innocently sashayed to the lake.
"Excuse me, Hercules, is it?"
His eyes hypnotize my heart. I gazed upon his massive chest bellowing a rich soothing baratone.
His rich voice echoed inside me, "Who wants to know?"
"Tasha," I remembered, watching him saunter his buns closer.
My gonads kicked as I handed him the chakram. He was that close!
I said, quickly, "Xena and Gabrielle are in trouble and we need you."
He called to the hills, "Iolaus!"
I followed his gaze to ledge of shaking berry brushes. Soon, a shorter but cuter blonde guy thrashed through.
Iolaus smiled at Hercules and said, half-out-of-breath, "Does it pay?"
I told them the whats, whens, and hows of last night. Leaving all the planning to them. Yet, leaving them to find Xena and Gabrielle didn't jive with my desires. I tagged along.
We tracked almost a full day to a caravan traveling to Corinth.
Hercules ran alone, not needing the comfort of rest, while
Iolaus and I purchase 3 beautiful appaloosa steeds from an honest cattleman. I enjoyed a brisk ride along a seaside shortcut. Though, Iolaus transformed into a snit.
"How could you let Gabrielle go on, alone," he barked
"She slipped out," I said. "Without telling me!"
"Why didn't your villagers help," he asked. For a moment, he leaned forward as if to
console me. "Are you an outcast," he asked.
I yawned and whined,"Geesum, Iolaus, I didn't know how mean hunters were around.
Everyone knows, I'm not a warrior woman. I'm lucky to have found you!"
He looked down in shame, then grinned. "You did the right thing, finding
Hercules and me. We're a team, you know."
I said, "Thank you, Mr. Monday Night Quarterback!"
His forehead wrinkling, too strong an idiom to juggle.
I said, "That's a wise man, where I'm from," and didn't even flinch. (Pity poker wasn't invented yet!)
"You're welcome, " he said.
Next time, I'd rather ride alone!
Heading south, we met Hercules eager for a horse. Judging from the tracked, he felt were were only hours behind a caravan. He and Iolaus galloped hard. But, the chaffing saddle killed me. I slowed to a trot, keeping in the grass along the side of the road. Eventually, the fellows stopped.
Iolaus winked to Hercules and said, "Hold on a minute, Tasha."
He veered into a bushy field, soon returning with a handful of aloe vera leaves.
"Just rub this,..err, where you itch. It'll help."
I knew he was telling the truth, thank God. As I got off my horse, Hercules kicked into a light trot.
"Catch up when you can," he yelled.
I said to Iolaus, "Go, I can track."
"Are you sure?"
"Go," I said. "This job I want to do alone."
"I'll ride back, if you take too long." He charges like a jockey at Bellmont.
For a moment, I thought I'd go home. But, a promise was made. When I returned to bumping in my saddle, its stinging progressively numbs my thighs. I followed two horse tracks in the sandy road. Then, something weird happened.
The two horse tracks vanished in smoothed ground. There were no detours or passages. A half-mile ahead, the fellas horse tracks marched as clear as before. I road a little faster until I spotted more hoofprints merging from either side of the road.
A few miles more, I found Hercules's horse, dead in a ditch. A little further, I pulled my reigns. Thunderous hooves echoed, ahead. I galloped into a plush forest, avoiding a Roman patrol charging over the top of a steep incline. I was lucky, for now.
Keeping in the woods, I used the road as a guide. At the base of the incline, another patrol of ten riders circled a corner of a large sandy clearing. Squinting further, I watch a colorful brigade drag 5 female slaves from three guarded wagons, west of camp. Romans! You know, the ones with lions and crucification? Tying my horse in a haven of pines, I crept to the wood's edge and watched.
A brigade carried wine crates from a small trader's caravan. I scanned slave girls' faces. Xena and Gabby were not among them. To my right, the second patrol galloped along the ocean shore. I had to see more.
Finding a plush oak, I shimmied for a better perspective. Fourty-five large tents entertained several hundred troops. It was obscene. No wonder, heroes are few. I saw wandering servants meekly ducking Roman whips. Forty capture men carried branch-stripped tree poles to the shore.
On the sea, fresh platoons rowed to the beach. I figured, an invasion force was building. From my history class, I learned Rome, pretty much, conquered all. And, they did it in a very ugly way. I scaled to the ground and headed back to my horse. I must be crazy!
Here I was, alone with an army ahead and apparently all of my new warrior friends held captive. I drew several calming breaths. As if that'd help! Sure, I could run. I could lie. Xena, Iolaus,
Herc, and Gabby couldn't argue it, they'd be dead. But, I had to live with me, no matter how short my life.
With the remaining sun, I watched for familiar faces and any skuffles from spirited slaves trying to escape. With the sun sinking, I, particularly, noted a rum trader delivering 6 large carts of Athenian barrels. We had rode those horses in circles!
Using my Timex, I logged eight o'clock as the start of partying Romans sharing cocky cackles. Whispers of alcohol quickly blend with drifting nightly breezes. By eleven, some of the soldiers fumbled to dance around a western bonfire. I moved east after another patrol past. Wine bottle filled their sword hands.
Don't expect the same inventiveness of a cut hole, I call my toilet. It's only crude if your walking below it while in use. Otherwise, it's a cinch to clean and never gets clogged.
I opened my fridge, (damn I'm good!) and poured a few coconut-cups of lemonade (sugared with maple syrup from trees I tapped.)
I said to both, "Listen, I've a guestroom first door on the right. Stay the night."
Gabrielle ran down the hall, peeking into the room. "The beds are huge.
I fondly remember a beau from Texas, bigger is better. "And, there's a cave by the creek where I keep tools and power generators. I'll show you around in the morning."
They stared at me as if I staggered-in from Jersey. As I stepped aside, Gabrielle played with the wooden faucets on my sink. (What a kick, such a kid!)
She asked, "You're water comes from where?"
I marched to a window overlooking a rushing stream then pointed to a mess of bamboo tubing sinking into a cliff. She was right over my shoulder. Xena kept back and stared.
"There's a pump in the cave," I said. "At the end of those water lines. About once a month, I change several charcoal cloth filters for purety."
I got up and saw Xena laying my knives on my counter, a test.
"Occasionally," I said, "I replace the acid in two generators. That's what runs my electric power."
I flicked a wall-switch drawing their curiousity. Leaving my weapons, Xena gently touches the bubbled glass bulb with a slender stretched carbon strands making a bright night light.
"Captured sun," she asked?
I flipped the switch again. "It's just a machine that makes sparks, electricity. Where I'm from, nobody understands it. But, we use it a lot."
Xena waltzed the hall, quietly entering my guestroom. After a long while, I logically assumed, she hit-the-hay. Afterall, it's been a trying morning. I, myself, am whipped. But, Gabrielle kept telling bull-stories about Xena and her taking-on mythological monsters and dragon beasts. Give me a break!
I made a second pitcher of lemonade while she started about Zeus and his really terrific son, Hercules. As you can imagine, I felt nausious. Don't get me wrong, this Hercules-guy sounded great. He cleaned someone's stables (actively self-employed) and half-human. But, apples don't fall far from their trees. Since Zeus is no friend of mine, you know what I thought of his family. Thankfully, my Timex watch chimed 9 o'clock.
"The bewitching hour." I pressed it off.
For once, Gabby was quiet.
"It's a magic omelet," I said. "Reminds me to roll up my rope ladder and head to bed. I must obey."
She stood then stretched while I hit my house lights-off. Pulling a deerhide curtain aside, I enjoyed a full pink moon, high in the sky. Gabby's werewolves tales didn't concern me. Such a kidder!
Gabrielle swallowed the last of her lemonade, as I twined my rope ladder on my porch railing. She yawned, sharing, "Good night, Tasha."
I pushed her forward as I tip-toed to my room. "Sweet Dreams, Gabby, Gabrielle."
I leaned inches from my down-feather pillow. Each aching limb bidded for a mattess of the same. All of a sudden, the kid raced into my bedroom.
"Xena's gone," she shouted.
I said and whispered, "Maybe she went out for air."
Even I didn't buy it. Moving to the edge of my bed, I searched for my boot with my toes.
I asked, "Did you hear her leave?"
"Xena's a trained warrior," Gabby said. "She can move without sound, whenever she wants."
As I rolled my eyes, Gabrielle raised her hand with her friend's Frisbee. Her eyes welled with glisten. I found one boot and slipped it on, then dropped to the floor grabbing another.
"Xena would never leave without her chakram," she said
Leaving my knives on the kitchen table, I felt Xena trusted me, a little. Though, leaving me with anyone so impressionable as Gabrielle, I think was a little beyond her normal savvy. Stopping my last foot into my boot, I headed down the hall with Gabrielle close behind.
I flipped on the lights of their bedroom, no Xena. From its open window, I spotted her tan horse, Argo, walking about with his expensive saddle dragging on the ground.
Gabrielle yelled, over my shoulder, "We need to go after them!"
I snatched the chakram. "In the morning, sh!"
Seeing my cross-bow by the door, I took my weapon and headed to the porch. Gabby's long eyes killed me, as I stood by the front door.
"Fine," I said. "We'll go below if you do as I say."
"Yes, Tasha."
I slapped a wall switch, watching my outside lights bright the area. Typically, strangers freaked out. I loved it! Now, it was quiet. As Gabby and I climbed down my rope-ladder, Argo stood still. I saw fresh boot-prints in the dirt. A few tiny darts sparkled, poisoned oil. Some were stuck in Argo's saddle as she approached. Shyly I spied a male silhoutte in a maple limb to my right.
Gabrielle said, "They've got Xena," then crouched to show me a beige cotton hair-tie.
I bowed, whispering to her, "Move back up the tree, kid. We ain't alone."
I raised my arms apart, ignoring several more shadows creeping to the bushes besides us.
I cried to the stars, "I hold the power."
Catching a glimpse of Gabby climbing the top of my rope, I shouted louder, "Artemis, your trusted child, shall hunt these little men for there dirty deeds done dirt cheap." (AC/DC rock n roll is kickin aint it?)
The bushes thrashed from hurried movements. I jumped high on one leg then danced an ancient African ritual, I caught on PBS. (the cable was out, what the hey!) Suddenly, I stopped, gauging the quiet. Again, I raised my hands fanning the chakram.
"Oh, Simpletons, let my demons, rise!"
I dance backwards humming as I hunted for my rope ladder. Then, I glanced up, Gabby had my cross-bow cocked. Moving like a squirrel, I scaled the tree and pulled the rope.
Gabrielle grabbed my arm. "We have to go after them," she cried.
I pushed her inside and slammed my door. She was stunned yet quick to her feet. I slowly threw several slide-locks and dimmed my inside lights.
"Look," I said, "Xena's alive. In the morning, I'll get her back. Trust me!"
"How do you know they aren't going to kill her?"
"These." I showed her 4 little darts. "Slavetraders shoot them through a blow-tube to make you sleep. From what little I know of your friend, I'd say they got lucky!"
She stepped forward, wanting to leave, then back, wanting to believe me.
I said, "Xena must have been pulling Argo's saddle when they shot her. That's why we heard no cries. That's why we stay up here, tonight."
She wanted to argue.
I shouted, "Tomorrow, we'll visit the local magistrate. Now, get some sleep."
Sure enough, I awoke in the morning and Gabby's bed was empty. It really irks me, that she snuck off in the middle of the night, despite my great advice. And you know, that ain't easy for me, caring for people like that. Being a New Yorker carries certain clashing expectations. I'm entitled to 'ride my broom', if you know what i mean!
By all rights, this should be the end of my tale. But, finding Xena's chakram a few yards from the base of my tree, I knew I wastagged with a duty to save them both. Now, I remember what I hated about friendships.
Using my best cow in trade, I purchased a neighbor's farm horse for fair market value. It was a hour's ride to the next town. But, that village lacked an honest magistrate. (And I had been so good all this blasted time?) My options quickly dwindled. After a half-day ride toward Athens., my farm horse died on the road. Really, I wanted to hold a ceremony but horses are big. Using the sun as a guide, I plodded a winding trek, looking for Xena's friend, Hercules.
What the hell. At worse, Hercules couldn't be a great schlemiel than his old man. If Gabrielle said he was a hero and Xena's friend, maybe I could get along. All right, all right . . . She also said he was enormously handsome.
I passed over some cliffs, finding a lake valley. Looking down, I spied that son-of-a-god, Hercules. Mm, mm, Hercules. He bathed in sineuous glory and I made ample time to study. He was 6'6", with massive biceps, sharp pecks, and oo-baby what abba dabbas! As I leaned on a boulder for support, I watched his wavey brown hair feather about his forehead. His eyes glittered like a teddy bear I'd won at Rockaway Beach. Manly, so manly in every way!
After Hercules yanked on his tight tan trousers, I innocently sashayed to the lake.
"Excuse me, Hercules, is it?"
His eyes hypnotize my heart. I gazed upon his massive chest bellowing a rich soothing baratone.
His rich voice echoed inside me, "Who wants to know?"
"Tasha," I remembered, watching him saunter his buns closer.
My gonads kicked as I handed him the chakram. He was that close!
I said, quickly, "Xena and Gabrielle are in trouble and we need you."
He called to the hills, "Iolaus!"
I followed his gaze to ledge of shaking berry brushes. Soon, a shorter but cuter blonde guy thrashed through.
Iolaus smiled at Hercules and said, half-out-of-breath, "Does it pay?"
I told them the whats, whens, and hows of last night. Leaving all the planning to them. Yet, leaving them to find Xena and Gabrielle didn't jive with my desires. I tagged along.
We tracked almost a full day to a caravan traveling to Corinth. Hercules ran alone, not needing the comfort of rest, while Iolaus and I purchase 3 beautiful appaloosa steeds from an honest cattleman. I enjoyed a brisk ride along a seaside shortcut. Though, Iolaus transformed into a snit.
"How could you let Gabrielle go on, alone," he barked
"She slipped out," I said. "Without telling me!"
"Why didn't your villagers help," he asked. For a moment, he leaned forward as if to console me. "Are you an outcast," he asked.
I yawned and whined,"Geesum, Iolaus, I didn't know how mean hunters were around. Everyone knows, I'm not a warrior woman. I'm lucky to have found you!"
He looked down in shame, then grinned. "You did the right thing, finding Hercules and me. We're a team, you know."
I said, "Thank you, Mr. Monday Night Quarterback!"
His forehead wrinkling, too strong an idiom to juggle.
I said, "That's a wise man, where I'm from," and didn't even flinch. (Pity poker wasn't invented yet!)
"You're welcome, " he said.
Next time, I'd rather ride alone!
Heading south, we met Hercules eager for a horse. Judging from the tracked, he felt were were only hours behind a caravan. He and Iolaus galloped hard. But, the chaffing saddle killed me. I slowed to a trot, keeping in the grass along the side of the road. Eventually, the fellows stopped.
Iolaus winked to Hercules and said, "Hold on a minute, Tasha."
He veered into a bushy field, soon returning with a handful of aloe vera leaves.
"Just rub this,..err, where you itch. It'll help."
I knew he was telling the truth, thank God. As I got off my horse, Hercules kicked into a light trot.
"Catch up when you can," he yelled.
I said to Iolaus, "Go, I can track."
"Are you sure?"
"Go," I said. "This job I want to do alone."
"I'll ride back, if you take too long." He charges like a jockey at Bellmont.
For a moment, I thought I'd go home. But, a promise was made. When I returned to bumping in my saddle, its stinging progressively numbs my thighs. I followed two horse tracks in the sandy road. Then, something weird happened.
The two horse tracks vanished in smoothed ground. There were no detours or passages. A half-mile ahead, the fellas horse tracks marched as clear as before. I road a little faster until I spotted more hoofprints merging from either side of the road.
A few miles more, I found Hercules's horse, dead in a ditch. A little further, I pulled my reigns. Thunderous hooves echoed, ahead. I galloped into a plush forest, avoiding a Roman patrol charging over the top of a steep incline. I was lucky, for now.
Keeping in the woods, I used the road as a guide. At the base of the incline, another patrol of ten riders circled a corner of a large sandy clearing. Squinting further, I watch a colorful brigade drag 5 female slaves from three guarded wagons, west of camp. Romans! You know, the ones with lions and crucification? Tying my horse in a haven of pines, I crept to the wood's edge and watched.
A brigade carried wine crates from a small trader's caravan. I scanned slave girls' faces. Xena and Gabby were not among them. To my right, the second patrol galloped along the ocean shore. I had to see more.
Finding a plush oak, I shimmied for a better perspective. Fourty-five large tents entertained several hundred troops. It was obscene. No wonder, heroes are few. I saw wandering servants meekly ducking Roman whips. Forty capture men carried branch-stripped tree poles to the shore.
On the sea, fresh platoons rowed to the beach. I figured, an invasion force was building. From my history class, I learned Rome, pretty much, conquered all. And, they did it in a very ugly way. I scaled to the ground and headed back to my horse. I must be crazy!
Here I was, alone with an army ahead and apparently all of my new warrior friends held captive. I drew several calming breaths. As if that'd help! Sure, I could run. I could lie. Xena, Iolaus, Herc, and Gabby couldn't argue it, they'd be dead. But, I had to live with me, no matter how short my life.
With the remaining sun, I watched for familiar faces and any skuffles from spirited slaves trying to escape. With the sun sinking, I, particularly, noted a rum trader delivering 6 large carts of Athenian barrels. We had rode those horses in circles!
Using my Timex, I logged eight o'clock as the start of partying Romans sharing cocky cackles. Whispers of alcohol quickly blend with drifting nightly breezes. By eleven, some of the soldiers fumbled to dance around a western bonfire. I moved east after another patrol past. Wine bottle filled their sword hands.
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2,
3 Next!,
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