The night had rolled by leaving her drained and far from confident about what the day would bring. Caesar's parting words kept rolling around in her mind, - 'Things will change' he said. The question is what? And how will it effect Gabrielle and the others? - She had no answers and the questions served to increase her concern over the fate of her friends which was bound inextricably into her own. - Of course that's been part of his intent. He want's me off balance and unsure of myself. Well, Roman, you'll have to do better than that, because the one surety in this life is that somehow, someday, I'm going to kill you! -

With the rising of the sun, the guards were changed and she could hear stirring throughout the pavilion, although Caesar hadn't made his presence known yet. She could feel her lips cracking through lack of moisture. The gag ensured her silence, but also leeched the fluids from her mouth making her throat sore and dry as well. She had no expectation of receiving any water until after Caesar's meeting with Verchinex had been completed.

A candlemark after sunrise she heard Caesar in the outer chamber listening to what his scouts had to say about the approach of a large band of Gauls, "He's sticking to the agreement, then."

She heard the satisfaction in Caesar's voice, and strained again at the bonds holding her. If she could just remove herself until Verchinex had left the meeting, she would readily surrender herself back to the Romans afterwards to ensure her friends' safety. She resented being used as a form of coercion against a man she admired. Chains and wood resisted her efforts, yet again.

"I didn't doubt his honour," continued Caesar, "In fact I'm counting on it. However, some of the lesser chieftains might not have been so trustworthy." There was a slight pause as the Roman general thought for a moment, "The scouts have pressed past the approaching horde?" he questioned, "They've confirmed the position of the bulk of the Gaulish forces?"

"Yes sir," agreed the scout, "They've advanced no further than the agreed upon distance."

"Very well," Xena could hear the contentment in Caesar's voice, "We can expect our guests about a candlemark before midday. All officers to their posts. I want all in readiness for the arrival. We'll show these barbarians some imperial magnificence and let them know what Rome can offer them, one way or another," he finished darkly.

"So, Kerreth," the dark bearded chieftain said softly in the lilting tongue of his people, "the Romans are here ahead of us." He surveyed the pavilion and the troops around it with keen interest, "You say they arrived here yesterday?" He got a nod in return from his scout. "So," he said at last, "it seems like Caesar wishes to play host to this meeting."

There was a rumble of angry mutters from around him. Arganath and Merrythn, two of the chiefs chosen to accomplish him growled their dislike at the situation before them, "It seems to me that this Caesar presumes too much," the more mature Hyman voiced his disapproval, "but there was no stipulation in the agreement about arriving early and, look you, the Romans have provided shade from the hot sun for the meeting."

Verchinex grinned at his old friend. Hyman was a wily old campaigner who had a droll sense of humour. In his own inimitable way he was trying to calm things down and let the others know that the Roman's had not broken faith so far. Verchinex turned back to his chief scout, "What of the VIIth Legion, Kerreth? Are the still camped beyond the agreed boundaries?"

"Aye," agreed the scout with a jerk of his head, "I've got six of my lads keeping a close eye on the bastards. If they move, we'll know long before we're caught in any real trouble.

The Gaulish chieftain turned his head back to the scene below him, "So the only thing we have to worry about is Caesar and his fine troopers down there?" He scratched at his beard considering the matter one last time, before making his decision, "Aye, well the chance of a peaceful harvest makes a powerful argument. I've no wish to see our people starve through the winter if words can fill their bellies."

He signalled to his men and they started down the hill in a long striding wave. The Gauls showed none of the Roman's discipline and moved however their feet took them. Individually, they were incredibly strong fighting men, but the Romans had the edge on them in that they fought with precision and direction, while the Gauls fought impetuously alone. That was why the Romans were pushing into their territory, but tradition and culture stopped the brave Gauls and other Celtic peoples from realizing the simple truth.

Caesar was immediately informed of Verchinex and his warrior's approach and took his place in his heavy, throne like chair to await them, - Let them approach me as supplicants, - he had decided, - It's time these savages began to realize that Rome is the dominant force in the world, and that I am master of Rome. -

He lounged back indolently, resting his elbow on the chair's arm and cupping his chin in his palm .. the picture of bored aristocracy awaiting to hear a petition from peasants under his dominion.

Xena heard the sentry announce the approach of Verchinex and had little trouble visualizing Caesar sitting regal on his throne waiting to receive the Gauls in Roman splendour. The mere thought of it made her strain once more at her bonds until she received half a dozen heavy blows from batons that made her ears ring, - Obviously Caesar is not too worried if I'm conscious through this, - she decided as she shook her head to clear it. She glared at her guardians as they stood ready to continue to discourage her struggles, but they stepped back to their places around the edge of the cubical when she relaxed once more.

The Warrior Princess felt the trickle of blood as it ran down her face from a small wound in her scalp, - They always bleed worse than they are, - she reminded herself and returned her concentration to the events about to take place in the outer area of the pavilion.

Verchinex motioned the bulk of his warriors to wait at what he judged to be a distance equal to the waiting host of the Roman troops. Marching on with his three chieftains and an honour guard of twenty, he headed towards the pavilion. As they approached the silk tent, two of the Roman guards pulled on tasselled cords that opened up the front, giving clear access to the Gauls and allowing the assembled troops to observe the meeting from a distance, without losing sight of their leaders.

Verchinex, Hyman, Arganath and Merrythn walked like lions into Caesar's den. They ignored the finery, that was obviously there to impress them of Roman superiority, but the relaxed ease of the man who awaited them was not lost upon them. Here was a man who radiated power. A man who believed he had a destiny to fulfill. A dangerous man.

The dark Gaulish chieftain who had met and experienced Caesar's compelling aura before, watched the effect he had on his companions. The younger men, Arganath and Merrythn, he saw, were awed by the Roman noble. The power he projected left them feeling insignificant and unsure of themselves. A glance at Hyman, showed that the older man had recognised Caesar's arrogant assumption of mastery, but there was a hint in the man's eyes that he was impressed by what he saw.

Verchinex had known what to expect and had steeled himself against Caesar's presence. He was no captive awaiting execution now, he was master in his own lands and Caesar's equal in power ... whatever the Roman chose to believe, "You wanted this meeting," he stated gruffer than he had intended, "what have you got to say?"

Caesar smiled smugly, "I greet you ... gentlemen, in the name of Imperial Rome." the deliberate hesitation over the courtesy title had not been lost on the Gauls who shifted uneasily, showing a rising anger in their demeanours. Caesar considered them savages, just one step up from the brute beasts of the field. He was honouring them by even breathing the same air as them. It brought scowls from the Gauls. "Can I offer you refreshment?" he continued politely, "Some wine perhaps?"

"We have not come for wine, Caesar," Verchinex told him bluntly, remembering the last cup that the Roman had shared with him. "Your message spoke of a truce. I would know what you have in mind."

"Ah yes," Caesar nodded agreeably, the smile never leaving his face, "A man of action, as I remember." He picked up a parchment from the table in front of him. "This is a treaty aimed at guaranteeing the peace of this area for the next year." he informed them. "The basic terms are that neither Roman nor Gaul will seek to make incursions into the other's territory and that, to ensure it, a two league buffer zone should be established ... a no man's land if you like," he explained simply. He handed the paper to Verchinex.

"I would have my scribe look at this," the Gaul told him neutrally.

Caesar waved his hand in compliance, "Of course, I expected as much. Do you wish to summon him?"

Verchinex spoke a few quiet words to Merrythn who turned and trotted back to where Folko stood with the honour guard. Within moments, the merchant cum scribe had returned with the young chieftain and had moved to Verchinex's side to take the paper.

"It says that it's for a one year truce and the establishment of a buffer zone. Nothing else. It's straight forward and presented in clear language," Folko told them in their native tongue.

The dark Gaulish warrior turned his piercing gaze on Caesar, "Why would you offer this truce?" he questioned certain there had to be some trick, "I see no gain in it for you, although it gives us what we seek."

Caesar spread his hands deprecatingly and the smug quirk of his lips returned, "It suits my purposes."

Verchinex was not satisfied with the reply, "Unless I receive a reason that makes sense to me I will not trust you to keep the promise made on this paper," he said in a low threatening voice.

The good humour dropped from Caesar like a cloak, "Very well," he half growled, "I have business in Rome to attend to. I wouldn't want to leave here without knowing that we have a truce in place. Although I promise you that we can resume the usual hostilities when the truce ends." His eyes were fixed on the Gaulish chieftains, "Is that a strong enough reason for you?"

Verchinex studied Caesar for long moments. He was well aware that the Roman had an ongoing battle for power with Pompey and that a return to Rome would allow him to continue it. Dissent amongst the Romans was good for the rest of the world, "Aye," he agreed finally, "Your reason is good enough."

"Then will you sign the truce?" Caesar questioned intently.

"Let my scribe see the second copy and if there's no trickery to be found, we'll sign," agreed the Gaul. They had already decided to accept if the proposal was one they could live with. A year's peace gave them time to gather the harvest, which promised to be a good one this season, and prepare for a campaign the following year.

Folko looked through the second paper and nodded his assent to his chief. Verchinex and the others signed both copies before handing them to Caesar who signed and sealed them with the Imperial seal of Rome.

As the Gauls turned to leave, Caesar called out, "Verchinex, I have a private matter I would discuss with you before you leave."

The five men halted as one, turning back to face the Roman, "You may speak in front of my people," the chieftain told him coldly.

"I give you my word that this does not concern your people. Just you. It's a matter of honour," Caesar told him blandly.

"You cast doubt on my honour Roman?" growled Verchinex questioningly, real heat in his voice.

"Nothing of the sort," assured Caesar smoothly, "Of course if you doubt my honour when I give you my word that you will not be harmed or detained against your will ...." he left the rest unsaid.

Verchinex scowled and then motioned to his entourage to wait outside. Once they had left he turned his attention on his Roman enemy once more, "What is it you wish to say?" he demanded.

"Ah," smiled Caesar, "Actually I have something to show you, or rather I should say someone." He waved his hand in a signal and the central portion of the silk wall behind the Roman rose to reveal ten soldiers armed with batons, surrounding one woman chained and gagged Her body showed the evidence of many beatings, and there was fresh blood running down her cheek.

"Xena!" breathed Verchinex explosively.

At another wave of Caesar's hand, one of the guards stepped forward with an axe ready in his hands, "As you can see, Xena is now my property to do as I will with." He stood and walked over to the Warrior Princess and gently fingered the silver collar that hung around her throat, "You see this woman has been condemned three times by Roman justice for, let's see," he said ticking off the items on his fingers, "oh, yes, piracy, rebellion and off course attempted assassination. Enough to earn her a place on the cross, don't you think?" he asked.

"What do you want Caesar?" demanded Verchinex angrily, "You want me to swap myself for Xena? Well I'll do it. I owe this woman my life and for honour's sake I could do no less."

"Very noble, I'm sure, Verchinex, but no. I don't want, or need, your person. As far as Rome is concerned you're already dead. If you turned up alive once more I'd have some problematical questions to answer," Caesar told him.

"What do you want from me, then?" growled the Gaul angrily.

"I want your written agreement, and your word as a Gaulish chieftain, that you will never again fight against me or the Legions of Rome. That you will retire from the military scene. Go and raise crops and children. Become a man of peace," Caesar explained.

Verchinex took a long breath as his thoughts whirled around the subject, "If I agree to do so, Xena will be released?" he asked.

Caesar shook his head firmly, "No," he said, "the Warrior Princess would remain in my custody. Her crimes are too great to justify her release. However, unless you agree to my terms, I will promise you that she will be executed the moment you leave this tent." The soldier with the axe swung it up in readiness. Xena looked hard at Verchinex, blue eyes boring into brown. She could not influence his decision in anyway. Her head demanded that she let the Gaul know that he should refuse Caesar, but her heart held her in thrall as she remembered Gabrielle and her friends: If she died, they would die.

"What assurances do I have that you won't just execute her anyway once I have made your agreement?" the Gaul asked

"I'll give you my written word. I'll also agree that once Xena is dead, you are released from your side of the bargain. Will that satisfy you?" the Roman asked patiently.

As she watched Verchinex, she could see his decision form in his eyes. A look of sorrow and mute apology projected from her own as the great Gaulish warrior nodded his agreement, "Very well. For the debt I owe Xena you will have your promise." He turned his gaze full onto Caesar, "I think that this parley for truce was a rogues way of taking a far greater pledge. The trickery for this was not needed. You only had to send word of your price and I would have paid it."

Xena shook her head in resignation. The Gaul was a great and honourable man and she felt outraged that she had been the instrument to remove him from the leadership of his people. She could not thank him for her life, she could only nod her head to him in acceptance of the gift and make a silent promise to make Caesar pay for his actions. She watched until the lowered cloth obscured him from her vision.