A voice thundered out from close by, causing her to wince from the further pain it induced, "Hey boss!" a man yelled, "She's awake!"

Forcing both of her eyes open, the bard edged herself into a sitting position and gratefully leant against a handy tree, desperately fighting off the nausea that threatened to engulf her fragile sensibilities. A quick look around at the cluster of warriors told her that there was no sign of Xena - Was that good or bad? - she tried to make up her mind. As she struggled with the thought, Mavrikios moved into her line of sight, before bending to examine the tender lump on her head.

"She'll live," he commented, "Give her something to drink, then we'll get moving."

Gabrielle gratefully took the water skin and gulped down some of the tepid, lifeless water that it held, before fixing her eyes on the warlord and saying, "I don't know who you think I am, but I can assure you that I'm a writer, not a fighter." She rattled the chains at him, "Don't you think that these are a little bit excessive? I mean with all your warriors around, I'm hardly likely to be able to run off, now am I?"

"I know exactly who you are, little girl," retorted Mavrikios with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "You're the irritating blonde that just banged up half a dozen of my men, and whom Caesar will pay me a lot of dinars for once I get you to him." He looked at her in a calculating way, "Now, I'd like to do this as easy as possible, but that's going to be up to you. You cause me any trouble and I guarantee that you'll regret it."

Gabrielle looked at him with more than a hint of pity in her gaze, "Trouble? Listen buster you've got more 'trouble' coming your way than you can shake a stick at!"

The smirk on the warlords face made her want to slap him, as did his awfully articulate answer of, "HA!"

Keeping her temper, and doing her best icy intimidation impersonation, Gabrielle pointed out quietly, "She'll find me you know. She's not going to let you get away with this."

"Xena's got troubles of her own," sneered the warlord, "One of my men put an arrow through her and, although it's not likely to kill her, it'll slow her down for a while, and make it that much easier for me to take her when she shows up again."

"You're not chasing after her?" asked the bard in surprise. The bounty on Xena was big enough to make most men drool at the chance of collecting it and make them forget about the dangers of facing her, especially if she was injured.

"There's no need to chase her round the countryside," he told her smugly, "She'll be coming after you and I'll be waiting for her."

Gabrielle's stomach clenched as she realized that she was bait for a trap. It seemed that Xena had a valid reason to be concerned about her vulnerability - He's smart, - she decided. She tried to dredge up any information she had about this warlord from her aching head as she took another swallow of water. Xena had once, long ago, mentioned that Mavrikios was a good leader of men. He weighed odds carefully and looked after the welfare of his troops. He was also a dangerous man with a blade. She seemed to remember that Xena had said he had an uncertain temper when things started to fall apart on him, and that he was not a man to anger or cross.

She looked up at Mavrikios as he ordered his men to be ready to move,"I've seen her take out a small army when she'd been blinded," she said conversationally, "An arrow wound won't worry her too much ... but it should worry you."

The warlord swung his attention back to the bard, "Oh? Please do enlighten me as to why I should worry?" he growled full of confidence in his abilities and plans.

Gabrielle grinned happily at him, "Because a wound is gonna make her mean, and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when she gets through with you," she said sweetly.

If her words had worried the man, he didn't show it in his voice or eyes. He just grinned nastily at his captive and rumbled, "Well then, we'd better get moving, hadn't we? I want to meet Xena on ground of my own choosing," he told her as he grabbed her by the chains and hauled her roughly to her feet, making her head swim.

"Hey!" complained the blonde indignantly.

The warlord grinned maliciously, "Get used to it. I'm sure Caesar has far worse in mind once he gets his hands on you two." He tugged her towards where the men were mounting their horses, "Here Gregorias. Keep her safe, or I'll have your head," he barked as he threw the bard up over the front of the warriors saddle, so that she hung face down like a sack of oats. Swinging on to his own mount, Mavrikios ordered his men to move out.