"General," the soldier snapped off a parade ground salute and marched from the office, passing Caesar's second in command as he arrived in the chamber.

"Brutus," greeted Caesar cordially, "How goes the VIIth's preparations? I trust that they will be ready to march on the morrow?"

The dark haired officer stood before his commanders desk and replied, "They will be ready to march with the dawn, my Lord. As soon as we join them."

Caesar poured himself, and his second in command, a goblet of wine, motioning for Brutus to take the silver cup from it's place on the tray on his desk, "And what of those four men who have been asking questions about people they should have no reason to believe are here?" he asked.

"My Lord," Brutus began tentatively, "Four centuries were dispatched to arrest them at their lodgings. The men barricaded themselves within their room, and by the time our soldiers had managed to batter past the obstructions, all four men had effected an escape through the window, and across the street where they were able to dodge across a roof and avoid arrest."

Caesar's face took on a hard cast as he looked at Brutus, "How very resourceful of them," he said quietly, "And just how, exactly did they manage to cross a street through the air?" he asked coldly.

"One of the men set up a rope that they slid down to get to the house opposite," explained Brutus as neutrally as he was able to. He had not been present at the scene and was merely reporting events as they'd been reported to him.

Caesar considered the wine in his cup for a long moment. Brutus wisely refrained from paying his beverage any attention whatsoever. He held it in his hand, but had assumed a position of attention and would remain so until, Caesar indicated his feelings about the situation.

"Do we know anything more about these four men?" asked Caesar.

Brutus considered, "We have full and detailed descriptions of them. They sound a very unusual group to be travelling together, although all four are Greeks. From the reports that have come in they spend much time in arguing amongst themselves. We also now have names for them," added the Roman, "although whether these are false or not, it would be difficult to know."

"And the names are?" asked Caesar lightly.

"The small blonde man, who seems, in a way, to keep the group together is called Iolaus. The man who accompanies him, the one people have described variously as a fool or a clown, is called Joxer. The tall dark one with the moustache and beard is known as Autolycus while the brooding young man with the long dark hair goes by the name of Toris," informed Brutus.

Caesar's eyes sharpened as the names were listed. His research into the Warrior Princess's life had been very thorough and the first three names figured prominently in her adventures and history. Yet it was the fourth that was of most interest to him. Capturing all of them would have given him extra ties on Xena, but that fourth man would have been almost as important as the bard. Blood ties went deep and he knew that Toris was the brother of Xena.

"The fools!" hissed Caesar in exasperation, "Netting those men would have tied Xena completely."

"My lord?" asked Brutus unaware of the significance of the men he believed to be of little importance.

Caesar banged his fist on the table, making the wine jug, and his cup lurch alarmingly. He looked at Brutus with a brooding anger, "The first of those men is a close friend, and was once a lover of Xena's, he's competent and very dangerous. The second man, although a fool, she treats as a family member. The third man is probably the most dangerous of all. He is a master thief, 'The King of Thieves' he is known as in Greece, and he has aided Xena on many occasions. But the fourth man. He would have been the true prize, for he is Xena's elder brother and would have been another chain on her. And the fools let them escape!"

Brutus looked discomforted. He did not know what Caesar had planned, but he did know that he aimed to use the Warrior Princess in some way, maybe more than one way. He was also aware it was like trying to hold a lion with a piece of twine. Caesar was playing a deep and dangerous game that was aimed at him achieving total power in the Roman world .. the man was emperor in name, but had his aims hampered by Pompey, who had strong support, and the senate who could still cause trouble. Brutus' aim was to ride his master's coat tail to his own place of dominance within that world. To do so he needed to retain Caesar's favour and ensure that his patron succeeded in his aims.

"My lord, I can order the garrison to make a sweep of the city. They'll find these four rogues and bring them to heel." he assured his commander.

"Don't be a fool Brutus," Caesar rebuked, though without rancour, "Those men are resourceful and able as well as being dangerous. The garrison would never find them and we don't have the time to spare now to direct a search." he fixed his subordinate with a penetrating stare, "You can be sure, though, that they will show up again, and when they do I want them taken."

"I'll order the guards to extra vigilance," Brutus announced, "I'll have their descriptions and names spread amongst the men and sent forward to the town garrisons on our route of march. If they show their faces again, we'll know about it and can arrange to have them taken."

Caesar considered this for a moment, "Double the watch on the girl," he ordered his aide.

"What of Xena, my Lord?" questioned Brutus.

"I think that the security there is well enough. I'm certain that Xena will not think of going anywhere while I hold her friend. No," he said at length, "the key remains the bard. While I have her safe, Xena is mine. The others would have been useful additional tools, though."

Autolycus's appearance had given Xena plenty to think about, not least that Gabrielle's letters seemed to have produced results; if the King of Thieves was there, then it was a good bet the others were too. That worried her, somewhat. Iolaus and Autolycus were good friends, and she'd hate to see them get hurt on account of her. But Toris was her brother, and she didn't have so much blood kin around that she could afford to lose any ... - And if Caesar should find out about him! - The thought left her cold.

Her situation was bad enough with Gabrielle in his power. If he had Toris as well, things would probably get distinctly worse. Two threats held against her and her chances of ever breaking free of Caesar's clutches would be negligible! - Gods, but I loathe that man! - she had fumed silently to herself.

Yet if things went well, and they could manage to free Gabrielle from Caesar's clutches, it might just enable her to do something about her own situation. She looked forward to the day when her captors could not produce Gabrielle in proof that they still held her. It gave her something to dream about that night.

She was awoken early the next morning. There seemed to be an unusual stir within the guard room, something different from the routine that had prevailed as the soldiers had settled into their new accommodation. She opened her eyes sleepily, focusing on her internal clock which suggested that the time was somewhere before dawn. She sighed softly.

It wasn't unknown for the guards to roust her out for a quick check through the cell to make certain she hadn't managed to secure and hide a weapon. So far she had been able to keep her toothpick hidden from the legionaries, who were looking for something far larger. That tooth pick could be used as a weapon, but it was going to be far more useful for picking the locks on her chains when she finally got the chance to escape. The time her spirit had been lodged in Autolycus's body had provided her with a few more useful skills!

She turned her attention back to the soldiers. This morning's activity was definitely unusual. No one had approached the cell for a search, and the general activity throughout the guardroom suggested something different. To Xena's practised eye, the legionaries were moving in the purposeful way soldiers broke camp. Her eyes narrowed. If the soldiers were getting ready to move, she had little doubt that they'd be moving her and Gabrielle as well.

- Can Caesar be aware of Autolycus and the others? - she questioned herself. She could hardly credit that the Roman would be concerned about a handful of men that he could have arrested without any trouble to himself. She thought about that for a moment and smiled softly to herself, - Well maybe not! - she conceded. But she doubted that her captors were going to run away from four men, therefore the move must mean that Caesar was getting ready for whatever he was planning.

Needing to retrieve the toothpick from the blanket where it had remained hidden, Xena rolled over, rucking up the under cover as she did so, and then began to surreptitiously work the toothpick out of the hem. Once she had recovered it, she slid it into the collar of her shirt, working it around until any sign was hidden by the fall of her hair. With that accomplished, she stretched and rose from the stone bench, and was standing by the time the key to the cell grated in the lock and the door screeched open on hinges that needed to be oiled. The sound had become an everyday occurrence in her life, and she would not be sorry to say goodbye to it.

"Morning boys," she drawled lazily noticing that Blasius was the officer in command of the detail that moved purposefully into the cell, "You goin' somewhere ... like maybe Tartarus?" she asked with feigned politeness.

Gaius Blasius was not amused by her comment and raised his fist ready to strike while Xena stared at him contemptuously. Before the officer could swing his blow, however, Flaccus' voice boomed across the noisy guardroom, "Blasius! That will be enough!"

The junior officer slowly lowered his upraised fist, his eyes sparking with anger for her taunt and his inability to exact what he felt was due retribution, "There will be another time!" he growled at the Warrior Princess threateningly.

"Count on it!" she hissed back, not bothering to hide her disdain for the bully, and bringing a whole wealth of dangerous meaning to the few words.

Flaccus marched to the cell and gave the two antagonists an appraising glance, "Just do your job, Blasius. The General wants her ready for travel. If you can't handle the task, I'll find someone who can."

The threat was unmistakable. Blasius snapped off a smart salute and watched as Flaccus retraced his steps across the guardroom to continue his own preparations for the imminent move.

Xena watched the Roman under officer much as a cat watches a mouse. There was a chance to exploit an opportunity here, - Divide and Conquer is Caesar's motto, - she told herself. If she was careful how she went about it, she might just drive a wedge into the ranks of her guards.

Blasius held his hand out and was given a thick, black leather belt that had a metal ring fixed firmly into the centre of it, "Please give me an excuse," the bully said to her invitingly, "It will make my day to hear your little friend howl because you proved to be difficult."

Xena's jaw tightened a little, but she managed a sardonic twist to her lips as she answered him, "Not in your lifetime," they were words that could be taken more than one way.

"Turn around," he ordered with a snarl.

Taking her time, the warrior turned her back on him and waited as Blasius put his arms around her, as he settled the belt into place. He threaded the end through the buckle and pulled the belt savagely tight, leaving the metal ring on the front side in the centre of her stomach. With a nod to one of his men, Xena's manacles were released from the long chain to the ringbolt, and the padlock was used to lock the manacles to the ring on the leather belt. The system was effective in restricting the use of her hands. She had a limited freedom of movement that would ensure that she could not use her shackles as a weapon, should the opportunity arise for her.

"Caesar afraid that I'm gonna jump him?" she asked lazily.

"You're valuable property, Xena," came Patroclese's voice from outside the cell, "After all the time, effort and money put into acquiring you, you cannot blame Lord Caesar for looking to keep his investment safe."

"Oh can't I," she returned with a distinctly frosty look and a tone sharp enough to cut. "Would you like to tell me where we're going?" she invited, not expecting to get a useful answer, although she was fairly certain that she knew what Caesar intended. Enforced inactivity had given her plenty of time to think, and she knew how her enemy's mind worked.

"You'll find out when Lord Caesar is ready to reveal his plans," the healer told her with a friendly smile, "As we all will," he added.

"Uh huh," she replied neutrally. "Don't forget to bring the chess," she told him far more enthusiastically as Blasius shoved her towards the cell door. The forced momentum, made her stumble in the restrictive leg irons, but her quick reactions kept her upright and she shuffled along as well as she could manage to avoid other pushes.

"Just going to pack it," Patroclese told her as she passed him. "I think that we'll manage to play a game or two on the trip, although you're getting far too good for my poor skill," he complained, and in truth Xena usually won nine out of every ten games they played.

Once into the main guardroom, the soldiers formed up around her and she was marched through poorly lit corridors .. that she was seeing for the first time .. where nighttime torches guttered low, awaiting replacement. It seemed a long walk until they reached the openness of a well lit courtyard. Xena stopped and breathed deeply of the cool pre-dawn air, relishing the freshness after being kept so long from it.

Blasius shoved her to get her moving again and, this time, she was only kept upright by the tight press of bodies around her. She was moved out to the centre of the courtyard close to where a familiar wagon awaited her. The thought of returning to the cramped conditions of the cage, that she knew was within, almost made her grimace.

She looked around the crowded space for something to take her mind off of the coming ordeal of cramped and aching muscles and the inevitable bruising from the jolting she would be forced to endure.

A movement on the far side of the courtyard captured her attention, as she saw another body of soldiers enter with Gabrielle closely warded amongst them. When the bard saw Xena amongst her escort of soldiers, she attempted to move towards her, only to be shoved back roughly by a legionaries spear butt.

"Hey!" barked Xena at the unnecessary roughness of the treatment.

"Quiet slave," ordered Blasius, digging a heavy punch into Xena's unprotected kidneys eliciting a grunt of surprised pain in return.

"Leave her alone!" yelled the bard, throwing herself at her guards and bursting past them with a surprising display of strength, speed and agility that caught the soldiers totally unprepared.

- Gods in Olympus! - screamed Xena's brain as she called out in alarm, "Gabrielle! No!" But it was too late to halt her friend's forward charge.

Soldiers began to converge on the blonde with raised batons. The Warrior Princess, knowing there was little or no chance of reaching the bard, still tried anyway. She could not stand by and watch while Gabrielle was roughly handled. Screaming a battle cry, "Ai,ai,ai,ai,ai,ai!", Xena launched herself in a flip over the heads of her own guards to land with crashing force on five men heading menacingly towards the bard.

The dark haired woman and the five soldiers went down into a tangled heap, as Gabrielle's arms were snagged by two of the guards she had avoided. The honey blonde was pulled to a stop, her arms twisted behind her in a painful lock, as she watched the struggling melee that thrashed on the ground.

Anger, resentment and plain, stubborn, pride, fired the fighting instincts that Xena had been forced to keep a lid on for so long. As she struggled, the familiar dark rage slipped its bonds and compelled her to fight, even though it was a hopeless task. She drove a two footed kick into the stomach of one of the struggling soldiers, ejecting him from the roiling heap to kneel heaving at the edge of the conflict. With limited use of her hands, she employed her head to good effect, using it to deliver crunching butts to anything that came close. One soldier's thigh came invitingly to hand, and a stabbing thrust of her fingers left him screaming in agony as she hit the nerve centre that made the leg a pain filled useless limb.

But there was no way that she could hope to win. Restricted in her movement and ability to defend herself, when six more soldiers leapt into the fray the shear weight of combined numbers finally managed to pin her flat, face down, to the ground. She bucked and heaved, driven by the animal desire to fight for freedom even against insurmountable odds, until she finally managed to regain control of herself and lock the dark rage, that had broken free, back into the silent recesses of her soul.

"What's going on here?" demanded the voice of authority as Caesar stormed into the courtyard to be confronted by chaotic turmoil.

Flaccus snapped off a salute as he presented himself before his commander, "Sir, your slaves broke free of their guards and had to be subdued." he explained.

"And what was the reason for their actions." he growled, knowing full well that Xena wasn't fool enough to attempt an escape when heavily shackled and surrounded in a courtyard by nearly two hundred crack soldiers.

Flaccus explained the events that had lead up to the brawl and Caesar's brown eyes seemed to bore into everyone in that courtyard with a hardness that spoke volumes about his irritation here. The two women needed to be handled with care. Push the wrong buttons and the Warrior Princess exploded into an unstoppable killing machine. He frowned at the soldier who lay clutching his leg and groaned in agony.

His eyes flickered slowly over the bard who strained impotently against the two burly guards who held her and then fixed on Xena who no longer struggled, but remained pinned to the ground by ten men. Acts of defiance could not be permitted. The two women had to be made to understand and accept that they were property, condemned to slavery for their crimes, and as such, subject to discipline for their behaviour. He could not show Xena any weakness that she might exploit. However, the last thing he needed, at this time, was to inflict harsh punishment on either bard or warrior. He needed both to be fit and healthy .. especially Xena. - Very well then. The punishments need to fit the crimes. They need to be hard but not debilitating. -

"It appears that an ill thought out act of defiance from the bard brought this about," Caesar said consideringly, "Very well then. In fairness if she is to be punished for Xena's transgressions, it is only right that it work the other way. Therefore, Xena will receive fifteen strokes of your staff of office, Centurion."

"You can't do that!" objected Gabrielle angrily, "It wasn't Xena's fault."

"No," agreed Caesar mildly, "it was yours. Just as it's her fault for becoming involved in the incident after she had been warned about the price for such resistance. For that, you'll get five strokes."

"Caesar!" yelled Xena, starting to struggle against those who held her again.

"Be very careful, Xena," warned the Roman coldly. "Those five strokes are lenient for your part in this and they can easily be raised."

The Warrior Princess subsided under the soldiers hands once more, although her eyes watched Caesar with a deadly intent, "The girl first, Flaccus," he instructed.

Gabrielle was hauled over to the wagon, where a wrists were quickly tied to a wheel. Flaccus's staff of office was thick, heavy wood that had been carved with vine leaves. Xena knew from past experience that it could raise heavy weals and a cause a lot of pain.

The first blow landed across the blondes shoulders, and made her yell with anger as much as pain. The second was inflicted slightly lower and brought a louder cry. The third blow was again aimed a little lower and Xena heard her friend choke back a sob. The fourth stroke was aimed across the bard's hips and the sobbing intensified as the final blow fell on her thighs.

Gabrielle was cut free of the wagon and moved, unresisting, by her guards to a spot where she stood, arms wrapped around her body, trying to choke back the tears that streamed down her cheeks. The beating could have been worse, but she was still recovering from the punishment she had taken just the day before, and the bard was not used to such pain.

At Flaccus's nod, the soldiers pinning Xena down on the courtyard ground, roughly hoisted her to her feet. She'd taken no injury from the struggle and with her body fit and healthy she doubted that the ordained fifteen strokes would harm her unduly. Caesar was obviously trying to instil discipline without disabling her. The soldier's secured her to the same wheel that Gabrielle had been tied to, and Flaccus administered the fifteen strokes with his normal impartiality. Xena willed herself to make no sound. The vine staff was heavy and painful, but it didn't rip her flesh as the whip had done. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and stood rock steady through the ordeal, knowing that Gabrielle winced with every blow, feeling responsible for them ... which was exactly what Caesar wanted!

Released from the wheel, Xena stood straight and turned her cold hatred upon Caesar, who smiled back at her knowing just how much it infuriated her when he did so. "Now that we have that little piece of unpleasantness out of the way, perhaps we can get on with the business at hand," he said brusquely. As he turned away he noticed the groaning soldier once more. Patroclese had shown up and was unable to do anything for the man's injury or agony, "You'll oblige me by fixing whatever you did to that man," he told Xena flatly.

There wasn't really anyway to avoid the order. Leaving the 'pinch' on would be an act of viciousness that she no longer allowed herself to do. Defying Caesar would bring more harm to Gabrielle. Pursing her lips, she moved with her shuffling step over to the writhing man and released the nerves with a practised twist of her hand, "You'll be fine in a few minutes," she told him coldly.

Caesar smiled at his victory, minor though it was. The more that Xena could be coerced into obedience, the sooner she would have to come to accept her new situation. He motioned for the soldiers to get on with their preparations, as he stalked off to where his horse stood patiently awaiting him.

The soldiers began to form up, and Xena was roughly manhandled into the wagon and shoved into her travelling cage. She was, however, surprised when Gabrielle was also thrown into the wagon. A leg iron was produced and locked around the bard's right ankle with the other end being fastened to the bars of the cage. "It seems we're going to be travelling together," smiled the Warrior Princess, relieved at having the bard's company, even in the conditions they found themselves. A section of her mind noted the presence of her six watchdogs as well, but they had become a part of her current existence and she had learned to ignore them.

Gabrielle smiled at her and began to apologise saying, "Xena, I just didn't think. When he hit you I suppose my instincts took over ...."

"I know Gabrielle. It doesn't matter," she shrugged off the beating like shedding a coat. "I shouldn't have reacted, then you wouldn't have been beaten."

"Quits?" suggested the bard, deciding that it would be better to end the mutual self recriminations before they truly got started. Her smile deepened at her friends nod of agreement.

"Quits," agreed Xena, basking in the warmth of Gabrielle's smile and realizing, yet again, just how much she missed not being with the bard.

"What's Caesar up to?" asked the blonde as she heard the order to march given. "I mean, all the effort to keep us apart and now this." she said indicating the wagon, "Not that I'm complaining," she added hastily.

Xena shrugged a little stiffly, "It's probably safer to keep us together while we're on the move. We've got a whole maniple surrounding us at the moment and I'm willing to bet that Caesar's got the VIIth Legion all ready and waiting to form up around us too."

"Xena," Gabrielle frowned, puzzled, "have you got any idea what he's up to?"

"Maybe, Gabrielle," she admitted softly, "Just maybe."