With wide eyes, Gabrielle tossed the stone and tugged Xena's chakram loose. Then, she whipped around to the sound of snapping twigs. Something plowing a patch of ferns was approaching. Biting the chakram, Gabrielle scrambled up the waterfall. Xena said, the rushing water makes them miss.Fifty-feet up, Gabrielle crawled onto a small shelf over-looking the surrounding territories. They would be fools to follow, she thought. She removed the chakram from her teeth and glanced downward. Nobody, thank the gods. But where did Xena go?
In the east, Gabrielle spied the start of a long desert, a death-trap to seasoned travelers, never mind troublemakers fighting Xena. Gazing south, Gabrielle spotted seven washer-women using the river-lake as a meeting house for shared gossip. She waved her arms as a signal. None seemed entertained with Gabrielle's concerns.
Standing on her toes, Gabrielle looked for boats in the river. "Xena, where are you?"
Toward a valley trail in the west, Gabrielle spotted four horseman guiding a dozen cows. A patch of chimney smoke didn't seem very far, ahead of them. Her stomach rumbled with stretched hunger. Around the base of the mountain, she spotting a clearing. Yes!
Gabrielle sat down and waited. It took her two hours to run from there to here. In the forest by day, there were many great hiding places. By night, Xena repeated, predators found everyone.
As the sun hovered over the horizon, Gabrielle spied two dozen boys marching in single-file. She wiped sweat from her brow. This can't be right. Standing up, she squinted for detail. Some were young teenagers with metal-tipped staffs. Others were children carrying bows that were two-thirds their body-size.
Just before the first boys entered the next woodland cover, a platoon, of twenty horseman hurried to join them. Fourteen summers was the oldest. And there was more. A slow line of farmer's carts brought up the rears. Then, Gabrielle spotted a spry young man who raced from the shadows, circling the head of his troops.
Though the sun was low, Gabrielle recognized Argo, a fine tan horse saddled with Xena's equipment.
"You'll be sorry," she said.
The army of youth proceeded with the last cart rolling into Gabrielle's view. In the back, Xena lay unconscious. The cart rocked yet she kept to the middle. Gabrielle glanced to Mystic Chasm and the darkness growing in the gorge below. In a few hours, she knew the army needed to camp. Down now was certain death. If she was to reach Xena's message pigeons, she'd have to wait till morning. Or . . .
"Hercules?" Gabrielle smiled with her novel notion.
Biting Xena's chakram, she started climbing to the top of Mystic Chasm. There was an old legend, Gabrielle heard from a bard. If you yell into the chasm, even the half-god, Hercules, will hear you.
It was several hours into the night. Nestled under a full moon, the army of boys camped by many small fires in circles less than ten. It was a good practice to confuse mercenaries hunting for large groups. Unless you consider, unskilled boys made easy targets for heartless men.
Though the older teens kept watch, they seemed more like herders than soldiers. The young teenagers collected for naughty games, staying up late and drinking wine. Bragging tongues crafted tales of women and war. The fodder of would-be warriors. On the other side of camp, the younger boys feared immediate threats; dancing shadows cast by twisted tree branches. If they had not marched all night and most the day, many wouldn't find slumber so easy.
Xena awoke feeling her arms taut. Her eyes whirled with drugged amber images directly ahead. Some days were harder than others, she thought. Still, she new she wasn't home. Freezing her head, Xena used the edge of her eyes to study hemp-lines strung up to high maple branches. Amateurs, she thought.
She blinked several times, allowing her eyes to sharpen focus. Who is it this time? Gods, titans, mutants? Within six yards of her feet, she marveled at five boys sleeping near a campfire barely flickering. By the gods, she thought. These are the children!
One youngster, of eight years, stirred and stumbled to a crawl. He scratched his the tip of trousers, hurrying to answer a nature-visit. Another rolled to his side, not a day over four. His chubby cheeks still resembled a toddler.
Not much further, Xena spied nine boys sleeping in a circle like orphan puppies keeping warm. Slowly, she moved her head to absorb more. Dangling from an oak sapling was her thick black-sheath and sword. This was too easy, she thought. Why not kill me, outright?
At the other end of the camp, Argo nonchalantly looked back. Playfully, Xena mouthed, Stay girl. The horse dipped its head, agreeing. A lean male shadow approached from another campfire. From a silvery reflection, Argo scratched a hoof then stepped back. Xena almost closed her eyes, constantly watching.
Nursing a water-flask of wine, an older boy, with straight blonde hair, strut past a large fire near Argo and the other horses. He was a lanky teenager. Fifteen, Xena guess. As he staggered, Xena spotted a curved dagger on his belt. He was alone and the oldest, so far. Attracted by an uncovered butt, the teenager kicked a cuddled child who momentary cried.
"Shut up," the older boy ordered.
The child scampered to another group while the teenager laughed. This is the one, Xena thought. The teenager headed to the next campfire sitting in front of Xena. As he got close, he hushed his own snicker. Then, he a poured wine into a cupped hand.
He shouted, "Oh, no, it's Zeus," and tossed the alcohol.
As it hit the fire, a whoosh of flame frightened four children to run with their blankets. The youngest boy kept sleeping.
"Don't start with me, " the teenager barked.
The child laid still, as if dead. Tossing several heavy branches to burn, the teenager chuckled at the child never moving an inch. He sipped his flask and gazed at the child. Bored for a moment, the teenager spotted a new curiosity, Xena's sword.
He put down a flask of wine, spit into his palms then yanked the mighty weapon. For a moment, he held it high. He was the supreme warrior of future legends. Then, he flipped backwards, overwhelmed by its weight. Rolling to his stomach, he quickly glared for witnesses. Almost all the watching boys ducked down, pretended to slumber. The teenager awkwardly crawled back to his feet.
"I see you," the teenager shouted.
Xena softly spoke, "Didn't mother tell you to let sleeping children be?"
The teenage boy caught Xena looking back. The only sound was a crackling flame. For a moment, he flinched tread. She was a foot taller and a seasoned adult warrior. Then, he proudly eyed the binds that confined her.
"My dart, " he said. "In your shoulder." He belched.
Kicking her sword as garbage, he strolled to Xena, his victim. She studied him, calm in the knowledge that her binds were easy to break. She needed knowledge and wine made it easy to gain.
He whispered, "I'm Theo, captain of Zeth, son of Draco the Warlord."
Xena stared over his head, absorbing the circumstances. "Where is Zeth?"
The teenager raised his curved dagger, approaching with caution. He was in charge of boys but not completely of his own fear.
His voice slightly quivered, "You're mine to kill, Woman."
"Go, ahead, Theo." Xena spoke with a hint of tease. "First kills are always harder than boyish brags."
He stepped back, stunned, almost dropping his weapon. Other boys sat-up, entertained. One started crying. But not the youngest and closest who kept sleeping. There is a scale, Xena needed from chaos.
"Shut up," Theo screamed. "Remember our mission."
The crying child settled into whimpers, comforted by his peers.
Xena shouted, "Tell Zeth to come here."
All eyes found a new danger in their captive. Xena followed their glances for any older males to protect them. Anyone could hide in these woulds. Most of the boys drew together, panicing and hoping Theo was in charge. One secreted into the darkness. Xena's game was in play.
With a weakened effort, Xena tugged on her ties, allowing them to hold. A few anxious boys laid back down. How far did the messanger need to run?
"Why am I, prisoner," she whispered.
Theo lowered his dagger and stepped closer. He grinned as Xena glanced with a hint of fear. "Behave and I won't harm you."
"Then, what will you do?"
"Swap you," Theo said. As an important warrior, he had to be entrusted with big plans. "One renegade Amazon for Zeth's father."
Xena glanced away, disinterested.
"We're warriors!" Theo tried harder. "Draco's making us part of his mighty army."
Taking a flask from the ground, Theo opened the top then gulped. A burgundy rivulet gushed over his chin. Grinning, he offered his flask to Xena. She nodded her head in refusal.
"How great could Draco be, if the Amazons caught him," Xena asked.
Theo stumbled back, waving his dagger. "Curb your questions, Woman."
"Or what," Xena said, staring him.
She enjoyed his anxious stance. Bullies deserved it. If Theo had older friends, he was almost close to calling out.
The teenager yelled, "I'll cut you into little morsels!"
"And eat the pieces?"
Lurching her arm, Xena broke her binds and snatched the dagger from Theo. As he stood there, astonished. She cut her other arm free then tossed the dagger into the ground, pinning Theo's boot. Many boys stampeded uphill. That's the main site. Too soon, Xena thought. She looked at Theo.
"Thanks," she said.
"Wait," he yelled.
Xena strolled half-way to Argo when Theo finally got free. He seemed more sober, racing before her and keeping a good distance. If men were here and valued a market in children, Xena would see them. Still, the little camp was coming to life. Boys were crying, some were shouting, most were standing to watch.
Xena stood at ease, staring playfully at Theo. "What now, little man?"
Theo anxiously gripped his dagger. "Don't force me kill you!"
"Oo, my favorite game."
Xena faked a step forward and Theo leaped back.
"Are you crazy?"
"Me, first." Xena placed her hands on her hips, smiling. "I could carve out your heart with my thumbnail. Or rip out your guts using your knife. Then, I would tie them around your neck. Do you like bows?"
Barely making half-breaths, Theo raised his other arm to hold his dagger. Older teenagers with torches were approaching. He whistled to them.
Xena's eyes flared as she spoke softly, "I really should challenge myself, more. Maybe, I'll start with your toes."
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