Teenage tough guy Mick O'Brien is a delinquent whose crimes eventually land him in a juvenile
correctional facility. There, he soon becomes the head honcho amongst the JD's, but his status is
challenged when his neighborhood nemesis is sent to the same facility.
http://www.oocities.org/SoHo/9737/xena-d.html
DAMSEL from NY
by Ann Logan (wilma3)1, 2, 3, 4
He climbed aboard his cart, checking bundled provisions as he grabbed reigns. "Yesterday, she stole my son's horse and killed two Corinthian soldiers. She, too, asked of you.
Beware, Tasha. This place will not be safe for long."
"Good journey, Pop!"
I pulled Gabby aside watching the farmer lash his best horses pointed west. She
wanted to defend Xena's name. This wasn't the time. I shoved her into the
mercantile then pulled my hand from her mouth.
"Xena is alive," I said. "That's a start."
Bob, a lanky merchant, signaled me to his backroom. He was not one for hiding conversation. Still, there were strangers in the shop. I followed him.
He whispered, "Xena warned us about a Roman invasion fleet. I must stay to guard my home. Take my children?"
Gabby drifted in and said, "We'll be happy to."
She noticed twin daughters, six years old, hiding behind a curtain. There usual brunette curls were matted to their face, cut short to look like boys. Desperation drove many cruelities. It was hard to jungle all we saw. I wanted to be heartless. It's easier. But, Gabrielle was right.
I gave her my knife then snatched a handful of arrows from the merchant's shelf. Bob showed me, his back exit then left. With Gabrielle collecting the kids out, I spun my mind for lists to share.
"Use my caves for shelter. I've fresh supplies deep inside. If there is an invasion, it's the easiest place to defend." I hestiated then whispered, "Hidden air vents provent you from being smoked out, there's an escape tunnel behind the second wood cabinet."
Gabrielle eyed a row of corked oil goblets. "Have fun, Tasha."
"We'll teach them a thing or two, I said.
She moved to the door.
Just before she took the children out, I whispered, "Trust me."
Gabrielle's sarcastic giggle actually felt good. I dallied for the merchant and listened to Bob's take on Xena's sketchy battle plan. She was more clever than to share all her
surprise matters. I just kept making oil-bombs. It works!
In less than an hour, terror broke loose. The middle of town burned with fierce gangs of screaming Roman horsemen. Creeping along sturdy wooden roofs, I issue Molotov cocktails to older teenages and young men defending their homes.
Left and right, explosions reduced the awe of Romans charging into nightmares. Hand-to-hand metalic clanks added to their growing regrets. We were winning battles. But, it wasn't over.
Smoke fogged my lookout view from the governor's home. He was never my favorite but I liked his decor. Footsteps came and left and I had no idea; Is it friend or foe, winning a clashing scuffle? In the distance, a new orange blaze marked a rear attack from a careless platoon. Banchee screams told of hapless invaders falling into spiked pits that Xena ordered on the southside of town.
My guts crawled as I watched the blue sky darken grey. Sure, I could have returned to the cave. I hoped Gabby kept inside. Romans wouldn't bother with that location.
With cocked bow, I waited at a window. Then, I heard a teenage boy, Matt-I think.
"Tasha, help me."
Oh, no. From thick smoke, he staggered into an alley. A brass arrow stucks through his shoulder. He fell into a roll, facing upward, exhausted. At the edge of the alley,
I saw two dark pulsing shadows dashing from the fog.
"Run," I screamed.
As the Romans cleared the smoke, I shot four fast arrows hitting fatal targets. Maybe, Gabby is telling stories. I climbed out the window and scaled to the alley. Keeping
my cross-bow in one hand, I helped Matt to his feet.
A dark voice shouted, "Advance, Centurians!"
They were coming this way. Matt was falling, I couldn't hold him. A young farmer hurried from a protected doorway to take over. Out of the smoke, three Roman soldiers charged in. I raised by cross-bow, aimed, and fired.
One flew backwards with an arrow dead-center. Running to the back of the alley, I fumbled a second shot hitting a the corner of a warrior's plate. The protected door slammed. A large Roman snatched my bow. Though I yanked my short-sword,
his bronze chest-plate clanked solid. His partner smirked in amusment.
"Find the boy, " While his partner kicked at the door, the large Roman lurched my hair bringing me to my tippy-toes. "You're the one, he's looking for!"
"Have mercy!" I struggled to stand, swinging my fists.
A moment after, his friend jogged into fog, I heard a wonderful sound.
"YiYiYiYa!"
The Roman soldier lost his sword in a spark then dropped me, falling on his back. His eyes stayed open.
"Xena," I screamed, an octave higher. "Nice move!"
"Grab his weapon."
She swang her massive broad sword flying into the fog. I snatched the Roman's sword and started to make my climb. Four more Romans charged from the smoke.
"YiYiYi" Xena flew high with dead cuts across their skulls.
As I stood there, staring at four bodies instantly dead, Xena swaggered to my side.
Her stare narrowed on me.
"I told you to stick together. Where's Gabrielle?"
"Down by my caves," I said. "With the other villagers."
She jogged up the alley. Sprinting my best, I could barely keep pace. The smoke was clearing. Family streets were littlered with corpses. I gazed at Xena swiftly mounting
her tan race horse.
"Where are we going?"
She rode straight for me.
"Give me your arm!"
I closed my eyes and obeyed. As she yanked me aboard, my leg found it's way across her saddle. I was on the back.
"Hold tight."
I clung for my life. "Woe, Xena!"
It was like being a crack-head doing speed at Great Adventure. My eyes bounced like pin-pongs. Xena wasn't stopping for anyone, let alone me. For a moment, I was concerned that my butt leaped past my ears. As long as I kept holding on, I knews things would be all right. Xena's hair whippedmy cheeks. My tears flowed freely.
On a terse turn, she yanked my right arm off her side.
"Take the reigns!"
"Are you nuts," I shouted.
"
"Now, New York."
Xena grabbed a crossbow tied to her saddle horn. While I held Argo's reigns, I clutched
Xena tighter. We were riding faster!
Through fire and smoke, we weaved around a thick birch. Xena fired once, three Romans fell from aligned branches. A little further, I cringed, expecting a rushing column to carve us to bits. Then, Argo darted right.
"YiYiYi Ya!"
Xena twirled her sword cutting a faint strand of net. Holding my arm, she shiftly swiftly, laughing as we evaded a Roman ambush.
"You're very good at what you do,." I said.
"Thanks."
She snatched her reigns back and eased Argo to a mild trot. We were close to my fields. I loved the nostalgia
Then, Xena said, "You and I need to have a nice long chat, later!"
Oh, no. My father's belt didn't scare me half as bad. I wanted to ask. No, I didn't. This was Xena. She didn't bend that way. When Argo stopped, I peeked around Xena. Gabrielle and the other's stood at the entrance to my caves. I followed Xena to the ground.
Smiling ear-to-ear, Gabrielle bear-hugged Xena. "I thought I lost you!"
"I'm never lost."
Xena pat her back, like burping a baby. It was very touching, really. I blended with
with my neighbors meeting family in the woods by my oak-tree home. I glanced over the cliff, seeing Xena pry Gabrielle and gather the crowd. She was a commander,
again.
"We have work to do," she said. "Caesar hired Draco's artisans and will stop at nothing to secure another post here."
Understand, Xena was not a normal person living in nominal days. I witnessed her slaughter so many threatening gangs without the slightest hesitation. That makes a great hero saving the masses. After all, she was reared from this barbarous age. It's commendable. But, my life was much dearer to me. Remember the talk, she mentioned?
Secreting into the woods was dangerous, at night. I could barely spot trees trunk let alone crooked branches scratching my face. After a few clumpsy trips, I walked a little too slow for my ulcer.
Battle drums played to my left. Ancient chants whispered from behind. I scrambled forward, wanting to exhaust a straight getaway. Then, I reached a declining field.
It's strange that my imagination gnawed against me. I remembered sounds from an old John-Wayne-movies as I dashed across the field. It was a short-chuckled to my cooked nerves. "XENA WANTED TO TALK." Oh, God.
I hopped bushes not knowing what comes next. Images of slit throats and warm blood strengthened my careless strides. Xena would look for my face among the villagers, soon. Her announcements were made, her present battles were founght. She wont wait for a morning to forge a search team.
A wolf's howl nibbled on my last nerve. Where could I possibly find a haven from her? I numbly stumbled through a climbing forest. Tangled vines slowed my push to the west. Heading south, I caught a falling thick branch smacking my skull. A brief brightness flashed.
I awoke choking on a pesky fly. Morning dew soaked my chest. The sun was moments away. I rolled to my side, pressing my hand on a rotten log for support. As it cracked, I rolled down a sloping green ledge.
My body bounces as I pulled into a spin. I widened my legs, only to bounce harder. Grabbing for grass, I twisted my right-hand. How I miss my beloved family. Big sister, Mary, snatching for food at the table. I promised Mom that my computer career could help her retirement. I wanted to type in a cushy chair, complaining about a stagnant
pocket of air condition on my back. As I rolled, I felt like I was fighting in the back of a cement truck.
Blood stained my palms hugging my chest. Oh, God. I pulled into a ball, falling and spinning. Taking it, taking it, hating it. All those poor Romans that I murdered. The rolling got faster. Come on, kid, this can't go on. For a moment, the slope lessen.
I was slowing.
Okay, okay. I bent my knees and forced out my elbow. Several friends of historical significants might miss me. I pried my fists to extend like a tumbling chair offering it's legs as brakes. I glanced out, to a greenish-brown vertigo.
"Jesus, help me!"
I snatched a lucky grasp on a thick gritty branch. The spinning converted to swinging. My arm lurched. My legs knocked against a smooth granite wall. When my eyes stopped spinning like a slot machine, I tried to get focuse.
I gazed in horror at a half-mile drop into a getty. The branch, I squeezed, slightly cracked. Tiny pebbles exploded against jagged bolders below. I wanted to cry but can't afford the energy drain. I closed my eyes. Keep it together, kid.
My fingers stretched to hold on. As I looked around, I felt my body weighing so much more. No holds or climbs. Then, a miracle called.
"Keep the faith, Tasha!"
Xena quickly descended with Hercules holding a line. "Don't disappoint me!"
"Sure," I said, thinking nothing of 'Xena would kill me if I died on her?'.
She latched a thick noose around my waist then grabbed. "Let go of the branch."
I really want to!
"I can't," I said.
My taut fingers locked despite my commands.
"Don't worry." Xena spoke in a thick Brooklynite accent, "I'm here for you, babe."
I burst into laughter, losing my grip.
Xena pushed me onto the grassy incline.
"Look up to Hercules," she said, "I'm right behind you."
My eyes quickly found Hercules powerfully tugging two lines up that long hill. All I wanted was a long private chance to thank him, very well. His smiled, at me, so adoring.
As I reached the top, Gabrielle lurched me aside.
"What in Hades did you think you were doing?" She stomped her foot, like my mom. "I thought you were captured," she said. "Xena tracked you all night. Are you crazy?"
"I'm a New Yorker, same thing." I hugged her, looking for Hercules
waving goodbye. Damn.
Xena stepped beside me. "New York, show us how your light generators work. Hercules has a good plan."
She closed burned palms, masking the injuries she endured at my expense. Pretty cool!
"Whatever you want, " I said. "I owe you, my life"
The entire day, Hercules gathered artisans building five tall wind towers by the shore. Several villages joined in work parties digging sand trench to face a turbulent sea. Background brigades assembled stacks of bottle-bombs. My recipe was very popular!
Forward soldiers sharpened brass swords and hatchet edges. Of all the warriors, they were the bravest. I watched an arriving convoys with young males howl to the gods, "Death to Caesar!" It seemed like a long nightmare.
A few hours before sunrise, Roman crafts rowed within the sandbar. The forward lines ducked in ditches that were strengthend in sandbag trenches. (I love John Wayne movies!). The second line hid at the tops of huge oak trees, cocking bows for the moment the Romans hit the shore.
With a brass horn signal, the Romans raced to chop our towers. Xena flipped a switch, bringing light to betrays blinded Romans. They staggered in a sluggish advance. Hurling arrows eliminated many off the first wave. But more were coming.
Hercules charged from woods and a swarm of javelins soring to the boats off-shore. They retreated, suffering great losses. Some boats sunk. Hercules watched like a guard-dog staking his domain.
I limped with a staff supporting my left side. Turning my eyes from the gruesome slaughter, I headed for a old wooden cabin. Curdling screams and distant metallic crashes echoed up my spine. When I finally slammed the door of that cabin, all the images crowded my soul.
Children cheered for their parents cruelty to soldiers. Grandmothers rushed arrows into the woods, a new craft to maintain as one rocks by the fire. Maybe I was alone, horrified to cheers of victory. On the table before me, I saw a barrel of old wine.
The second tasted better than the first but not as good as the sixth.
I recalled a radio reporter on his view of the Hindenberg explosion.
"Oh, the humanity," he cried.
"All the inhumanity," I kept saying to myself. "All the inhumane."
What was right to the mothers of soldiers dead on the ground? An infinity of decendants were gone. Can we call it good, humans slicing human flesh to peddle a principle called freedom? These people are sick. Back home, we . . . The thought
stalled. All freedoms cost in horrible tolls.
"Tasha?"
I looked up then down to my drink. Apparently, Xena washed her battle blood. The victory didn't bring the goofy grin, other's enjoyed.
She said, "You saved lives today."
"Is Gabby all right?"
I cleared my throat, feeling my worth choking.
"She's good people. You both are."
Xena stared as I gazed up. I was glass before her.
She asked, "Why did you run last night?"
I spoke into fumbling fingers. "Cowardice."
She stepped closer and refilled my wine goblet. "Bravery isn't being without fear, but in how you act with it."
"I know," I said.
She sat beside me, staring down on me.
"You risked your life for Gabrielle, Hercules, Iolaus and me. That does not make a coward."
I peeked up. "It kinda comes and goes. Which reminds me."
I took a deep breath feeling the swirling freedom of the wine. "Why am I in trouble with you, Xena?"
It startled me, she actually laughed.
"Is that why you ran?"
She laughed wilder and poured herself a cup of vino.
"Why would you think that?"
I folded my bandaged arms and rested my bludgeoned head.
"Last night," I said. "You mentioned a long talk?"
Xena squeezed my shoulder. "I just wanted to warn you, not to take any more of Ares's gifts. They tend to be trouble."
"Oh."
Here I sat, mangled hands, twisted ankles, and a hill-bludgeoned
body.
"Thanks for caring."
Xena sipped her wine, probing my actions.
"What did you think, it was?"
Her hazel eyes glowed a lighter shade of blue.
"Nothing," I said.
I knew she didn't buy it. As I finished a hearty swallow, Xena poured more wine to the top of my cup. I smiled.
"I couldn't remember what I've ever done that would make you that angry."
"Why didn't you ask me?"
I chucked. "I figured, you had better things to do than kick-my-ass!"
She enjoyed my answer. I sipped my wine, looking away.
"And, Xena," I said. "I'm glad you're not upset. Because, if I ever have to go through this again . . ."
Xena spoke in a Brooklyn accent, "You wouldn't be a real New Yorker!"
I chuckled. "You got that right, Princess!"
Let history know, Xena and Gabrielle were the best pals this New Yorker knew. Should yous ever get stuck here, look us up. And, people, bring a New Yorker some home: Real Italian pizza, calzones, manicotti, a bottle of Coke, or maybe our Difilippi's pepperoni from the Brooklyn store. I'll be waiting!
"Good journey, Pop!"
I pulled Gabby aside watching the farmer lash his best horses pointed west. She wanted to defend Xena's name. This wasn't the time. I shoved her into the mercantile then pulled my hand from her mouth.
"Xena is alive," I said. "That's a start."
Bob, a lanky merchant, signaled me to his backroom. He was not one for hiding conversation. Still, there were strangers in the shop. I followed him.
He whispered, "Xena warned us about a Roman invasion fleet. I must stay to guard my home. Take my children?"
Gabby drifted in and said, "We'll be happy to."
She noticed twin daughters, six years old, hiding behind a curtain. There usual brunette curls were matted to their face, cut short to look like boys. Desperation drove many cruelities. It was hard to jungle all we saw. I wanted to be heartless. It's easier. But, Gabrielle was right.
I gave her my knife then snatched a handful of arrows from the merchant's shelf. Bob showed me, his back exit then left. With Gabrielle collecting the kids out, I spun my mind for lists to share.
"Use my caves for shelter. I've fresh supplies deep inside. If there is an invasion, it's the easiest place to defend." I hestiated then whispered, "Hidden air vents provent you from being smoked out, there's an escape tunnel behind the second wood cabinet."
Gabrielle eyed a row of corked oil goblets. "Have fun, Tasha."
"We'll teach them a thing or two, I said.
She moved to the door.
Just before she took the children out, I whispered, "Trust me."
Gabrielle's sarcastic giggle actually felt good. I dallied for the merchant and listened to Bob's take on Xena's sketchy battle plan. She was more clever than to share all her surprise matters. I just kept making oil-bombs. It works!
In less than an hour, terror broke loose. The middle of town burned with fierce gangs of screaming Roman horsemen. Creeping along sturdy wooden roofs, I issue Molotov cocktails to older teenages and young men defending their homes.
Left and right, explosions reduced the awe of Romans charging into nightmares. Hand-to-hand metalic clanks added to their growing regrets. We were winning battles. But, it wasn't over.
Smoke fogged my lookout view from the governor's home. He was never my favorite but I liked his decor. Footsteps came and left and I had no idea; Is it friend or foe, winning a clashing scuffle? In the distance, a new orange blaze marked a rear attack from a careless platoon. Banchee screams told of hapless invaders falling into spiked pits that Xena ordered on the southside of town.
My guts crawled as I watched the blue sky darken grey. Sure, I could have returned to the cave. I hoped Gabby kept inside. Romans wouldn't bother with that location. With cocked bow, I waited at a window. Then, I heard a teenage boy, Matt-I think.
"Tasha, help me."
Oh, no. From thick smoke, he staggered into an alley. A brass arrow stucks through his shoulder. He fell into a roll, facing upward, exhausted. At the edge of the alley, I saw two dark pulsing shadows dashing from the fog.
"Run," I screamed.
As the Romans cleared the smoke, I shot four fast arrows hitting fatal targets. Maybe, Gabby is telling stories. I climbed out the window and scaled to the alley. Keeping my cross-bow in one hand, I helped Matt to his feet.
A dark voice shouted, "Advance, Centurians!"
They were coming this way. Matt was falling, I couldn't hold him. A young farmer hurried from a protected doorway to take over. Out of the smoke, three Roman soldiers charged in. I raised by cross-bow, aimed, and fired.
One flew backwards with an arrow dead-center. Running to the back of the alley, I fumbled a second shot hitting a the corner of a warrior's plate. The protected door slammed. A large Roman snatched my bow. Though I yanked my short-sword, his bronze chest-plate clanked solid. His partner smirked in amusment.
"Find the boy, " While his partner kicked at the door, the large Roman lurched my hair bringing me to my tippy-toes. "You're the one, he's looking for!"
"Have mercy!" I struggled to stand, swinging my fists.
A moment after, his friend jogged into fog, I heard a wonderful sound.
"YiYiYiYa!"
The Roman soldier lost his sword in a spark then dropped me, falling on his back. His eyes stayed open.
"Xena," I screamed, an octave higher. "Nice move!"
"Grab his weapon."
She swang her massive broad sword flying into the fog. I snatched the Roman's sword and started to make my climb. Four more Romans charged from the smoke.
"YiYiYi" Xena flew high with dead cuts across their skulls.
As I stood there, staring at four bodies instantly dead, Xena swaggered to my side. Her stare narrowed on me.
"I told you to stick together. Where's Gabrielle?"
"Down by my caves," I said. "With the other villagers."
She jogged up the alley. Sprinting my best, I could barely keep pace. The smoke was clearing. Family streets were littlered with corpses. I gazed at Xena swiftly mounting her tan race horse.
"Where are we going?"
She rode straight for me.
"Give me your arm!"
I closed my eyes and obeyed. As she yanked me aboard, my leg found it's way across her saddle. I was on the back.
"Hold tight."
I clung for my life. "Woe, Xena!"
It was like being a crack-head doing speed at Great Adventure. My eyes bounced like pin-pongs. Xena wasn't stopping for anyone, let alone me. For a moment, I was concerned that my butt leaped past my ears. As long as I kept holding on, I knews things would be all right. Xena's hair whippedmy cheeks. My tears flowed freely.
On a terse turn, she yanked my right arm off her side.
"Take the reigns!"
"Are you nuts," I shouted. "
"Now, New York."
Xena grabbed a crossbow tied to her saddle horn. While I held Argo's reigns, I clutched Xena tighter. We were riding faster!
Through fire and smoke, we weaved around a thick birch. Xena fired once, three Romans fell from aligned branches. A little further, I cringed, expecting a rushing column to carve us to bits. Then, Argo darted right.
"YiYiYi Ya!"
Xena twirled her sword cutting a faint strand of net. Holding my arm, she shiftly swiftly, laughing as we evaded a Roman ambush.
"You're very good at what you do,." I said.
"Thanks."
She snatched her reigns back and eased Argo to a mild trot. We were close to my fields. I loved the nostalgia
Then, Xena said, "You and I need to have a nice long chat, later!"
Oh, no. My father's belt didn't scare me half as bad. I wanted to ask. No, I didn't. This was Xena. She didn't bend that way. When Argo stopped, I peeked around Xena. Gabrielle and the other's stood at the entrance to my caves. I followed Xena to the ground.
Smiling ear-to-ear, Gabrielle bear-hugged Xena. "I thought I lost you!"
"I'm never lost."
Xena pat her back, like burping a baby. It was very touching, really. I blended with with my neighbors meeting family in the woods by my oak-tree home. I glanced over the cliff, seeing Xena pry Gabrielle and gather the crowd. She was a commander, again.
"We have work to do," she said. "Caesar hired Draco's artisans and will stop at nothing to secure another post here."
Understand, Xena was not a normal person living in nominal days. I witnessed her slaughter so many threatening gangs without the slightest hesitation. That makes a great hero saving the masses. After all, she was reared from this barbarous age. It's commendable. But, my life was much dearer to me. Remember the talk, she mentioned?
Secreting into the woods was dangerous, at night. I could barely spot trees trunk let alone crooked branches scratching my face. After a few clumpsy trips, I walked a little too slow for my ulcer.
Battle drums played to my left. Ancient chants whispered from behind. I scrambled forward, wanting to exhaust a straight getaway. Then, I reached a declining field.
It's strange that my imagination gnawed against me. I remembered sounds from an old John-Wayne-movies as I dashed across the field. It was a short-chuckled to my cooked nerves. "XENA WANTED TO TALK." Oh, God.
I hopped bushes not knowing what comes next. Images of slit throats and warm blood strengthened my careless strides. Xena would look for my face among the villagers, soon. Her announcements were made, her present battles were founght. She wont wait for a morning to forge a search team.
A wolf's howl nibbled on my last nerve. Where could I possibly find a haven from her? I numbly stumbled through a climbing forest. Tangled vines slowed my push to the west. Heading south, I caught a falling thick branch smacking my skull. A brief brightness flashed.
I awoke choking on a pesky fly. Morning dew soaked my chest. The sun was moments away. I rolled to my side, pressing my hand on a rotten log for support. As it cracked, I rolled down a sloping green ledge.
My body bounces as I pulled into a spin. I widened my legs, only to bounce harder. Grabbing for grass, I twisted my right-hand. How I miss my beloved family. Big sister, Mary, snatching for food at the table. I promised Mom that my computer career could help her retirement. I wanted to type in a cushy chair, complaining about a stagnant pocket of air condition on my back. As I rolled, I felt like I was fighting in the back of a cement truck.
Blood stained my palms hugging my chest. Oh, God. I pulled into a ball, falling and spinning. Taking it, taking it, hating it. All those poor Romans that I murdered. The rolling got faster. Come on, kid, this can't go on. For a moment, the slope lessen. I was slowing.
Okay, okay. I bent my knees and forced out my elbow. Several friends of historical significants might miss me. I pried my fists to extend like a tumbling chair offering it's legs as brakes. I glanced out, to a greenish-brown vertigo.
"Jesus, help me!"
I snatched a lucky grasp on a thick gritty branch. The spinning converted to swinging. My arm lurched. My legs knocked against a smooth granite wall. When my eyes stopped spinning like a slot machine, I tried to get focuse.
I gazed in horror at a half-mile drop into a getty. The branch, I squeezed, slightly cracked. Tiny pebbles exploded against jagged bolders below. I wanted to cry but can't afford the energy drain. I closed my eyes. Keep it together, kid.
My fingers stretched to hold on. As I looked around, I felt my body weighing so much more. No holds or climbs. Then, a miracle called.
"Keep the faith, Tasha!"
Xena quickly descended with Hercules holding a line. "Don't disappoint me!"
"Sure," I said, thinking nothing of 'Xena would kill me if I died on her?'.
She latched a thick noose around my waist then grabbed. "Let go of the branch."
I really want to!
"I can't," I said.
My taut fingers locked despite my commands.
"Don't worry." Xena spoke in a thick Brooklynite accent, "I'm here for you, babe."
I burst into laughter, losing my grip.
Xena pushed me onto the grassy incline.
"Look up to Hercules," she said, "I'm right behind you."
My eyes quickly found Hercules powerfully tugging two lines up that long hill. All I wanted was a long private chance to thank him, very well. His smiled, at me, so adoring.
As I reached the top, Gabrielle lurched me aside.
"What in Hades did you think you were doing?" She stomped her foot, like my mom. "I thought you were captured," she said. "Xena tracked you all night. Are you crazy?"
"I'm a New Yorker, same thing." I hugged her, looking for Hercules waving goodbye. Damn.
Xena stepped beside me. "New York, show us how your light generators work. Hercules has a good plan."
She closed burned palms, masking the injuries she endured at my expense. Pretty cool!
"Whatever you want, " I said. "I owe you, my life"
The entire day, Hercules gathered artisans building five tall wind towers by the shore. Several villages joined in work parties digging sand trench to face a turbulent sea. Background brigades assembled stacks of bottle-bombs. My recipe was very popular!
Forward soldiers sharpened brass swords and hatchet edges. Of all the warriors, they were the bravest. I watched an arriving convoys with young males howl to the gods, "Death to Caesar!" It seemed like a long nightmare.
A few hours before sunrise, Roman crafts rowed within the sandbar. The forward lines ducked in ditches that were strengthend in sandbag trenches. (I love John Wayne movies!). The second line hid at the tops of huge oak trees, cocking bows for the moment the Romans hit the shore.
With a brass horn signal, the Romans raced to chop our towers. Xena flipped a switch, bringing light to betrays blinded Romans. They staggered in a sluggish advance. Hurling arrows eliminated many off the first wave. But more were coming.
Hercules charged from woods and a swarm of javelins soring to the boats off-shore. They retreated, suffering great losses. Some boats sunk. Hercules watched like a guard-dog staking his domain.
I limped with a staff supporting my left side. Turning my eyes from the gruesome slaughter, I headed for a old wooden cabin. Curdling screams and distant metallic crashes echoed up my spine. When I finally slammed the door of that cabin, all the images crowded my soul.
Children cheered for their parents cruelty to soldiers. Grandmothers rushed arrows into the woods, a new craft to maintain as one rocks by the fire. Maybe I was alone, horrified to cheers of victory. On the table before me, I saw a barrel of old wine. The second tasted better than the first but not as good as the sixth.
I recalled a radio reporter on his view of the Hindenberg explosion.
"Oh, the humanity," he cried.
"All the inhumanity," I kept saying to myself. "All the inhumane."
What was right to the mothers of soldiers dead on the ground? An infinity of decendants were gone. Can we call it good, humans slicing human flesh to peddle a principle called freedom? These people are sick. Back home, we . . . The thought stalled. All freedoms cost in horrible tolls.
"Tasha?"
I looked up then down to my drink. Apparently, Xena washed her battle blood. The victory didn't bring the goofy grin, other's enjoyed.
She said, "You saved lives today."
"Is Gabby all right?"
I cleared my throat, feeling my worth choking.
"She's good people. You both are."
Xena stared as I gazed up. I was glass before her.
She asked, "Why did you run last night?"
I spoke into fumbling fingers. "Cowardice."
She stepped closer and refilled my wine goblet. "Bravery isn't being without fear, but in how you act with it."
"I know," I said.
She sat beside me, staring down on me.
"You risked your life for Gabrielle, Hercules, Iolaus and me. That does not make a coward."
I peeked up. "It kinda comes and goes. Which reminds me."
I took a deep breath feeling the swirling freedom of the wine. "Why am I in trouble with you, Xena?"
It startled me, she actually laughed.
"Is that why you ran?"
She laughed wilder and poured herself a cup of vino.
"Why would you think that?"
I folded my bandaged arms and rested my bludgeoned head.
"Last night," I said. "You mentioned a long talk?"
Xena squeezed my shoulder. "I just wanted to warn you, not to take any more of Ares's gifts. They tend to be trouble."
"Oh."
Here I sat, mangled hands, twisted ankles, and a hill-bludgeoned body.
"Thanks for caring."
Xena sipped her wine, probing my actions.
"What did you think, it was?"
Her hazel eyes glowed a lighter shade of blue.
"Nothing," I said.
I knew she didn't buy it. As I finished a hearty swallow, Xena poured more wine to the top of my cup. I smiled.
"I couldn't remember what I've ever done that would make you that angry."
"Why didn't you ask me?"
I chucked. "I figured, you had better things to do than kick-my-ass!"
She enjoyed my answer. I sipped my wine, looking away.
"And, Xena," I said. "I'm glad you're not upset. Because, if I ever have to go through this again . . ."
Xena spoke in a Brooklyn accent, "You wouldn't be a real New Yorker!"
I chuckled. "You got that right, Princess!"
Let history know, Xena and Gabrielle were the best pals this New Yorker knew. Should yous ever get stuck here, look us up. And, people, bring a New Yorker some home: Real Italian pizza, calzones, manicotti, a bottle of Coke, or maybe our Difilippi's pepperoni from the Brooklyn store. I'll be waiting!
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If you liked this story, Xena tale with Tasha from New York, check back for other "Damsel Tales" At one time, there were over twenty online, then came a crash and a nasty ritual of vulgar phrases. Soon, recovered stories will be posted on this site. BACKUP COPIES does an author's artistry good!
