Mid afternoon, Flaccus came for her. Releasing the chain from the ring it was shackled to, he used it as a leash as he motioned her out of the cell and ordered the soldiers to form up around her as usual. Keeping a firm lid on her anger and the self loathing that lurked at the back of her mind, she moved along with them as she was escorted to another pit room that bore marked similarities to the first she had fought in. However, this one was rimmed with sharp metal spikes, that jutted out from the top of the wall, over the pit just below the level of the gallery, to prevent fighters from turning on their masters.

She looked up and found Caesar immediately. Her eyes drawn to him like a loadstone. For the moment he ignored her. He was speaking with three men, their wealth obvious from their dress and from their attitudes. She glanced around the gallery and noticed the archers placed strategically. She counted twenty of them, and her eyes narrowed as she noted they all carried small hand sized dart crossbows cocked and ready for use.

- Bet those darts carry some kind of quick acting sleep drug on them, - she grimly assessed.

Finally, Caesar turned towards the pit and gestured towards Xena, "Gentlemen," he smirked at the men with him, "this is my slave. If you are agreeable, then the wager is that she will take on your three fighters, with the one stipulation that no weapons are to be used."

"Are you serious, Caesar?" questioned a tall greying man of aristocratic bearing and aquiline features, "Three against one? and our men professional gladiators while, your slave is nothing but a barbarian wench? Surely you jest!" he laughed.

"Not if you are willing to give me the odds agreed upon," Caesar told him his voice full of dark humour, "and the woman is a Greek, not a barbarian. Although I will grant you she's a savage."

The short, dark middle aged man standing off to one side gave a snort of contempt, "Barbarian ... Greek, what does it matter. She's a wench and will not provide much of an afternoon's sport against all three of our men. I'll grant you she has the look of a fighter," he said speculatively as he ran a considering finger down his jaw, "but I'd rather see a good match than a poor one, even if I do get to take your money."

The third man had been looking carefully at the guards, the chains and the bearing of the woman standing, head erect, below him. His chain of office declared him to be the Prefect of the city, and his shrewd look suggested little escaped his attention. A wry smirk appeared on his face as he turned to the others, "Quintus," he said clapping the small man on the shoulder, "Sertorius," he said including the nobleman, "I think my friend Julius may have gulled us. I think three against one may be very poor odds, and that we'll be paying out on the stakes we made. However if I'm wrong, I have some criminals that can entertain us if necessary."

"Damn it Gaius," protested the tall, elderly Sertorius, "I didn't come here just to watch a bunch of amateurs scrap it out. I was promised a real contest."

"And it will be Sertorius," promised Caesar, "other wise I'll pay you double the wager ... as long as it's your men that win."

"Oh, lets get on with it," Quintus drawled in a bored tone. I'm sure we'll be able to find something to amuse ourselves with for the rest of the afternoon,"

Caesar turned his attention to Flaccus who stood waiting with Xena in the pit, "Alright Centurion, take them off," he ordered and watched as the officer unlocked the Warrior Princess from her shackles, "Very well, Xena," he began, and a smirk sparked in his eyes as he heard the men beside him register the name and understand exactly who he had pitted against their men, "Gabrielle's not here, which is why we've got the archers."

That brought another round of whispered comment from the three local men, who had obviously thought they were some form of guard for Caesar, - Well they are, - thought Xena, - just not against your machinations. -

"Not even you can catch the amount of darts they can fire at you, and just bear in mind what will happen to your friend should you managed to get out of there." The whispering had continued until Caesar halted and Gaius interrupted.

"Julius, are we right in presuming that this is the infamous Warrior Princess of Greece? The so called 'Destroyer of Nations?" he questioned.

Caesar watched his captive as she carefully massaged her wrists and ankles, "She has worn those titles at times," he conceded. Then added for her benefit, "Now her only title is slave." His eyes gleamed as he saw her stiffen at his barb.

"My friend," laughed the prefect ruefully, "I think once this is over, you had better give us a detailed account of just how you managed to acquire this woman as a slave." Gaius gave a signal and three men, stripped to the waist entered the pit.

Xena dropped into a fighting crouch, her mind assessing the capabilities of those she faced, watching how they moved and how they carried themselves. All were tall, only one being slightly shorter than she was. They were muscular with scars decorating their bodies. They spread out to flank her, intending to back her up to the wall of the pit and then close in for an easy kill, so to speak.

Allowing herself to drift backwards, Xena, startlingly let out her ululating cry, "Yi,yi,yi,yi,yi,yi!" and leapt into a back flip so that her feet landed halfway up the pit wall. Pushing off she propelled herself in a forward flip, over the heads of her opponents, landing behind the shortest one whom she flattened with an elbow jab to the base of the skull.

She spun smoothly to face the two others who scattered apart to either side, trying to make her split her attention between them. The one to her left was a younger man, with close cropped hair and an arrogant belief in his own ability. The second man was older, his head was shaved and his eyes showed the experience of past fights. A glance told her that the man she had elbowed would be no problem for a while.

As one, the men sprang for her. She tried to sidestep them, fooling the younger of the pair .. who rushed past in an uncontrolled lunge .. but failed to divert the older man who threw an arm around her neck, and smashed a hard fist into her back just above her unprotected kidneys. Pain flared, which she tried to ignore, as she forced herself to concentrate on the gladiator's arm as it tightened around her neck.

Using her elbows again, she rammed them back into his muscular rib section, making him grunt from the force, and slacken his hold a little. Dropping to her knees, the sudden dead weight sent the man catapulting over her head to slam into the wall in front of them. He slumped to the ground shaking his head to clear it.

Before Xena could get back to her feet, the younger fighter slammed a booted foot into her ribs, causing her to grunt as the breath rushed from her body. A second kick followed the first, before a hand dropped down and grabbed a handful of her long hair, pulling her up enough to receive a cracking right fist to her jaw.

Fighting off pain and dizziness, the Warrior Princess launched herself from her knees to tackle the gladiator around the waist and take him down to the ground where she straddled him and delivered a stunning left fisted backhand punch that was so hard the spectators heard the jaw crack. Before she could finish him off, though, the older fighter had recovered his wits and dove into her, carrying her back onto the floor of the pit. Straddling her as she had his team mate, the gladiator threw a right hand punch at her face, only to have it stopped in mid-flight by a grip like a vice. He threw a left to try and distract her, just to have it captured in the same way.

He looked at her with a growing awareness of fear, as she raised an eyebrow at him, and then with incredible power and impressive ease, she tightened her fingers, crushing his hands, before shoving her hands forward so that the fighters wrists bent back at an alarming angle, snapping the bones with an audible, "CRACK!" He screamed as she shoved him aside and sprang lithely to her feet.

The first man she had downed had recovered from her blow, and was advancing on her, a look of wild anger in his eyes. A quick glance at the other two men told her the older one was out of the reckoning, while the younger one (with the broken jaw) was slowly climbing back to his feet. She smiled at the gladiator advancing on her and beckoned him on.

When he rushed her to secure her in bear hug, she chopped down hard with both hands into the base of his neck, before crashing her forehead into his nose, driving him to the ground with the force of the blow and laying him out with a stunning roundhouse right.

It was then that she heard the clang of metal as a dagger hit the ground by the feet of the last man standing. He grabbed it triumphantly, anger and pain flaring from his eyes as he swung to tackle Xena.

"Damn it!" swore Caesar vehemently, motioning for a messenger to get to Flaccus as quickly as possible, "Whoever let that knife drop in there, better have a damn good excuse!"

"Come Julius," grinned Sertorius, "at least it will make the rest of this fight interesting. If it's the bet you're concerned about, we can always call it void. And I'm sure that Olan won't cut her up to badly."

Caesar glared at the man, "He won't even scratch her," he snarled furiously, "But she'll get that weapon and as soon as she does she becomes ten times more dangerous, just with that dagger."

The other three men paled somewhat as they contemplated that concept, and just how angry Caesar was at the situation. They flicked worried glances at each other, the furious man beside them and then returned their gaze to the pit to watch the outcome of the fight.

The Warrior Princess eyed the fighter, sweeping the dagger before him as he approached, while she made her retreat towards the wall. Her eyes locked to his, reading his actions as they registered there. It was his eyes that would tell her his intentions, not the weapon. Suddenly she saw them widen as he launched himself at her, driving the blade downwards towards her neck. Xena grabbed the descending arm and twisted beneath it, using the build up of torque and momentum to flip the gladiator into a heavy fall, before finishing him off with a kick to the head.

Grabbing the dagger, she took a step, turned and threw the weapon straight at Caesar, eyes blazing as she watched the blade travel true. Before she saw it strike, bodies hit her from behind, as Flaccus and his guards steamed into the pit. She struggled for her liberty, making the soldiers fight hard to take her. But the pummelling she had already taken, from the tussle with the gladiators, along with sheer weight of numbers began to tell on her. Bodies piled on top of hers, pinning her down, while first the leg irons were locked in place, before the manacles were snapped around her wrists and the belt secured around her waist.

As she was dragged upright, her eyes darted to where Caesar had been standing. He stood looking back at her, hooded brown orbs blazing as blood dripped down his right cheek from the deep score made by the passage of the knife. - Spot on! - she thought, - he'll wear my mark now! - her eyes burned with her rage as she glared at him.

"Get her back to her cell," snarled Caesar, as he turned his glare on the three men who stood with him.

Xena's arm was jerked roughly as she was dragged from the fighting pit and back to her prison. On the way back, she railed at herself for being a fool, if she had killed Caesar, she may well have condemned Gabrielle to death. The fact that she had hit what she aimed for was immaterial .. he could have moved into a fatal position. She had no doubt that word would be gotten to Rome, or that Caesar would have made plans for such an occurrence.

Once back in the dungeons, the chain was reattached to her collar, but this time it was hauled tight to the ringbolt on the wall, giving her no room for movement, and keeping her standing. The soldiers were rough with her, but not excessively so, trained to await Caesar's orders for whatever punishment he might deem as necessary for the attempt on his life.

- Oh that was so dumb, Xena, - she told herself, left in the silence of her dungeon. - Gabrielle would be having fits after what I promised. - Yet she couldn't stop the small smile of satisfaction from playing on her lips, - I bet the bastard nearly wet himself, - She grunted as she tried to settle herself into any kind of comfortable position.

Her neck was sore from the attempt at strangling her, and wasn't being helped by the way they'd got her chained. The punch in her back over her kidney felt raw, as did her ribs ... again! where she'd taken a couple of heavy kicks. The rest of her body felt bruised from the soldiers piling in. She hadn't been able to count heads, but there had been more than the twenty men who escorted her there.

Another grin flitted across her face, she'd seen Blasius in the scrum, and had got in a good punch before they'd managed to subdue her, - Oh are they ever going to make me suffer, - she thought to herself, - but ... I think I can honestly tell Gabrielle it was worth it. She won't believe me, but it was definitely worth whatever I have to pay for it. -

The cell door opened to admit Patroclese, who came in oozing anger from every pore. He dropped his kit in front of her and silently examined the new wounds and injuries she bore. He roughly swabbed of the drying blood from a split in her lip, pulled her shirt up and gently ran his fingers across her ribs to check for damage, before applying liniment to the fresh collection of bruises he found there, he used a cool painkilling salve on the nasty bruise he found on her back, before finally rubbing a salve into her neck.

"Not speaking, huh?" asked Xena as he packed his things away.

"Are you mad?" he demanded as he stood glaring at her. "Do you think Caesar's going to shrug that dagger throw off?" the deliberately blank look she gave him seemed to infuriate him, "Didn't you think about Gabrielle at all?" he demanded, "There could be a message on it's way ordering her immediate execution."

Xena stiffened, "He wouldn't. He know's she's the only hold he's got over me."

"Some kind of hold," roared Patroclese, "You just tried to kill him!"

"If I had intended to kill him, he'd be dead," she told him icily, "and he knows it. That's why he won't kill Gabrielle, because he knows if there is ever a next time, he would die. She's his shield."

"Quite so, Xena," said a voice from the doorway, "Quite so." He stepped into the cell and she could see the livid cut that had required stitching to close the wound. His brown eyes flared with anger as he looked at her, "Possibly I made a mistake sending Gabrielle away. I think you believe that she's safe from punishment for your breaking of the rules." He glared at her with a savage intensity that almost matched her own.

Her own anger building within her, Xena couldn't stop herself from retorting with icy certainty, "No! Your mistake was bringing Gabrielle into this .. and as soon as I'm free I'll make absolutely certain that you regret every mark you've put on her."

He moved closer to her, his eyes burning with fanatic intensity, "You are in no position to threaten me, slave. Nor can you do anything to protect the bard. I think we'll keep a tally of the punishments you earn, and when we get to Rome, she'll get them in one dose. I think we'll call tonight's episode ten strokes for her. I wonder just how many she can take in one go?"

Xena lunged forward, only to be jerked back by the unrelenting chain attached to her collar. Unable to reach him, she fumed helplessly as he stood before her., knowing that anything she further said or did would make it worse. She hoped that Autolycus would make good on his promise to get the bard out of her captivity, but if he hadn't succeeded by the time Caesar got her back to Rome, she couldn't afford to have irritated Caesar into increasing the beating he had ordained.

Seeing the constraints that the warrior was putting on herself, the Roman added salt to the wounds, "Another time, my sweet, and I would have ordered you the lashing you deserve for your actions. However, I have some more contests to arrange for you and I want you fit enough to handle them. You must continue to win, you know Xena," he told her warningly, "because if you lose, I will make her suffer."

He swirled out of the cell, sweeping Patroclese along with him. As the door slammed shut she cursed her temper and Caesar both, - Ares' hairy buttocks! But that was dumb, real dumb. - Having nothing to vent her fury on other than herself, she continued her mental berating before forcing herself to settle into an uncomfortable night's sleep standing up.