- How do I always seem to end up as a force for destruction, no matter what I try to do with my life? - she thought bitterly.

She jerked in her bonds in frustration. For all of her phenomenal strength, she knew that she had very little chance of breaking loose from her chains. Caesar had planned long and hard to make certain that once he had her in his power, she wasn't going to be able to slip her leash with any ease. She ceased her struggles as a baton slapped her across the back. Not a hard blow, just a reminder that she was being observed.

Straining her senses she could hear the final agreement being signed in the pavilion, and knew that her part in this particular scene had been executed to perfection. Caesar had removed Verchinex as a challenge, and that removal would last as long as she lived. On the one hand this told her that Caesar was not planning her death soon, which meant that Gabrielle's life (if not her comfort) was also assured. What was almost as important, however, was that even if the Warrior Princess should break free, Verchinex would still be tied by his oath. It was enough to make Xena seethe.

Forcing herself to relax, she wondered just how long it would be before they began the move back to Lugdunum and from there to Rome. She had no doubt that Caesar wanted to be back in the capital as soon as possible. He had business to attend to with Pompey and he obviously intended using the breathing space, he had just gained from the Gauls, to do so.

- Pompey, - she thought, eyes narrowing, - he could be an ally for us in this. He's not going to like Caesar gaining the upper hand once more. The trouble is, will he view it in his best interests to see Gabrielle and me free ... or dead! -

The thought thundered around her mind as she tried to plan ahead. She had no illusions about escaping from Caesar at this juncture, the dangers for her friend's were too great. But once they were brought together again in Rome. Well then the game changed once more and she needed to be ready for it.

She was brought abruptly from her thoughts as Caesar returned quietly to the 'room'. She could sense him almost, but not quite, in the way that she could sense the presence of Ares. The God made her flesh tingle and crawl. The Roman just made it crawl. She raised her head to glare at him.

He smiled, - Well why not, - he thought happily, - so far she has brought me everything I have sought from her. Now, however, it's time to start training her. I want her brought to heel. I want her to know and acknowledge me as master. - His smile broadened at the prospect, - This is not going to be a short campaign, but by the Gods, it will prove entertaining ... for me at least! -

Caesar signalled a guard who quickly moved forward and removed the gag, "Well, now Xena," he almost purred with contentment, "as I promised, things are now going to change for you. I think that you've been lounging around in that wagon for quite long enough. A warrior like you needs exercise to keep all your skills in place ... and you're going to need those skills, my slave, if you want to keep yourself and that little bard alive ... not to mention your other friends."

Xena's lack of response nettled him, but he knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn't respond until he pressed the right buttons in the correct sequence, "As I no longer need to keep you or your identity hidden from prying Gaulish eyes, we'll have you marching with your guards, from now on. Oh yes," he added, "I think we'll have some sparring between you and my men."

He saw her eyes light up with a feral gleam. He patted her gently, and contemptuously on the cheek, "Tut, tut, Xena. I'm hardly going to let you completely loose for that, am I now? We'll work something out to give you a challenge, while keeping you quite safe at the same time."

He sniffed, pointedly, "In the meantime, I think it's long past your bath time. I won't have a possession of mine at less than it's best, Xena, so I think that a trip to the river is in order for you before we set off today."

The Warrior Princess held back the urge to bite his hand, the hand that, she noted showed the small white scar left from the split javelin in Britannia. She chuckled inwardly. - He may have left marks on me, - she thought grimly, - but he hasn't escaped either. - She observed with pleasure the scar that ran across his right cheek, - Just like Draco's, - she grinned to herself. - Mmmm, perhaps I should patent that, make it my trade mark. - Her lips almost quirked into the private half smile of hers, but she crushed it before it could make it to the outside.

Caesar grabbed a handful of her usually luxuriant raven hair, now dirty and caked with blood, and pulled her head up sharply, disturbing her private thoughts once more, "I'm going to break you, Xena," he told her with calm assurance, "By the time I'm finished with you, you're going to be as meek as a lamb, unless I tell you to be otherwise."

Her answering smile held no humour as she replied to him in a low menacing tone that was heard clearly by everyone within the area, "Dream on, Julius."

She expected the blows that her retort had purchased and had steeled herself against them to make no sound as they thudded home. Nothing hard enough to break a bone, but on muscles and skin that were already strained, damaged and sore, the effect was not negligible.

"Enough," growled Caesar at length, "Get her down to the river and get her washed off. I want to move out of here in short order. Having given his orders he swung out into the main pavilion, and left the guards to unlock her from the posts and the stake that held her collar.

- Oh Gods! - her mind screamed as she tried to straighten her back, - that hurts! - Focusing her mind to compartmentalize the pain she was feeling, she kept her face a blank mask as she tried to encourage her tortured muscles to co-operate.

She stood immobile as a second long chain was fitted to her collar, with one leash holder to walk in front of her and the second behind. The chains on the wooden beam that imprisoned her arms were held by two more of the guards, while the chains used to hold her legs to the posts were taken by a final pair. Once again, she had her six personal watchdogs and the control they exerted over her was not much less than when she had been stuck in the cage.

- Can't expect him to get sloppy, now, can we? - she snarled to herself. - My reputation is really doing me no good on this trip, - she brooded.

The legionaries moved out down towards the river that her sharp ears had located when she had been unloaded from the wagon the previous evening. She saw Patroclese waiting with Flaccus under the welcome shade of an oak tree. She stumbled towards them under the constriction and weight of the shackles, guided by her guards.

"Xena," greeted Patroclese with a smile that faded as he saw the streak of blood that trailed down the side of her face. He shook his head with genuine sorrow that he had been responsible, in his part, for so much of the pain that the Warrior Princess had to endure, "Can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes," he said in a tone that so reminded her of Gabrielle that a spontaneous laugh escaped her before she could contain it.

Not only Patroclese, but Flaccus and the soldiers looked at her with shocked incredulity. The laugh had been so clear and vibrant and was totally out of keeping with the dour, stoic warrior that they had become used to. She almost laughed again at the looks on their faces, but constrained herself and answered the looks with a roguish grin that totally confused them, especially when she added, "Not even my Mother could teach me to do that."

She looked at the lazy, deep running river and asked, "So, gentlemen. How have you got this little escapade planned out, huh?"

"Xena, will you give your word not to attempt to escape, and not to resist being re-shackled, if we let you out of your chains?" Patroclese asked.

Xena noticed that Flaccus looked uncomfortable about even suggesting that she be trusted to honour her oath. He remembered all too well how difficult it had been to catch her in the first place. Patroclese hadn't been there, so he had no real idea just how very dangerous the woman was.

She thought about giving the promise. It would undoubtedly have made things easier, but that was the problem. The easier she made things for herself, and the 'enemy', the closer she came to accepting their rules, their views and their orders. Her stubbornness reared up at giving that tiny inch. Once she started down the slippery slope she was lost and might just as well surrender to Caesar right here and now.

Xena shook her head, both in refusal to make the pledge and to give up the private war that she was waging with her old enemy. He'd have to fight her every step of the way, because there was no way on the Gods' earth that she'd ever give in to his decrees and demands, "No, I'll make no such promise, Patroclese," she told him evenly.

The healer shook his head in resignation, He could see the stubborn set of the Warrior Princess's jaw, and he knew full well that it would be easier to move a mountain than get her to reconsider her choice, "Very well, Xena, we'll do this the hard way."

Flaccus took over, "Get that beam out," he ordered his men, who complied with speed, releasing Xena's trapped arms so that she could at least move them for the short distance allowed by her manacles. It was a wonderful release and she revelled in her limited freedom.

"Okay," she asked, "what next?"

"Listen very carefully, slave," rasped Flaccus in his gruff, no-nonsense, voice, "I'm going to take the belt and manacles off of you. The collar chains, the leg irons and the leg chains stay on while you're in the river." He made a gesture and twenty archers, strategically placed around the bathing place moved into view, "You so much as look as if you're going to cause me any trouble and they've got orders to shoot. Don't worry, they're blunted arrows but they'll have enough impact to bring you down. Got it?"

"Oh, I think I can follow that," Xena replied coldly, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Don't push your luck with me, slave," Flaccus growled. "I don't know what happened with Blasius, back at Lugdunum, but I'm certain you had something to do with it. The man was a bullying brute, but he was one of mine and I don't appreciate slaves who retaliate against given authority. So just you keep in line and keep your smart mouth to yourself, understand?"

Xena nodded her comprehension. She really had no desire to force a confrontation and start a feud with Flaccus. She was aware that she was pressing his slender patience, and knew that it was her anger at Caesar that was making her act so provocatively with the Senior Centurion.

Flaccus gave her a hard glare which she held without dropping her eyes. She might not wish to deliberately provoke the soldier, but she was not going to be cowed by anyone here. Luckily he took her silence as sufficient conformity. "Healer," he instructed, waving Patroclese forward, "you know what to do."

As the physician stepped forward with a small sharp knife, Xena's mind suddenly screamed, - The toothpick! - If Patroclese cut the shirt off of her, he was almost certain to find the small piece of metal and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

The healer stepped behind her and she tensed as she waited for him to slit the material up the back of the shirt. He first undid the belt that secured the shackles to her waist, before making a slit in the dirt and blood smeared rag that she was wearing. Taking a firm grip with both hands, he pulled the shirt apart, up to the collar where he used the knife to slice through the thicker material.

She knew he'd found the toothpick. She felt his hands hesitate for a moment. But instead of declaring his discovery, he continue with his task of cutting the cloth away. When she was naked from the waist up, he slid the knife down the outside seams of the her trousers and asked her to step away from them, at which point Flaccus removed the manacles and motioned her into the water.

Xena wasn't worried about being stripped in front of her guards; after all, they'd already seen her without clothing in Nemausus, and nudity had never been something to cause her concern. She had a fine body and had used it to her advantage against men on more than one occasion. What did concern her, however, was what Patroclese intended to do about that toothpick!

She settled down into the cold river and caught the bar of soap that the healer threw to her. She began to methodically clean the grime from her hair and body, as she tried to make up her mind how Patroclese would chose to act and the possible consequences of that choice. If he informed Flaccus and Caesar, she would undoubtedly be the recipient of some harsh punishment. Another whipping seemed the most likely bet, and she could handle it, but that could also mean a similar punishment for Gabrielle which she didn't think she could endure.

If Caesar thought about it, he'd realise that Gabrielle must have known about the toothpick. It was a logical step from the fact that the only time she would have been in a position to gain possession of the implement was that first night in Caesar's tent, which meant that they must work out that Gabrielle had helped her to keep it hidden during her illness. It presented Caesar with the perfect opportunity to really discipline them both, knowing that it would hurt Xena all the more.

Her face took on a grim cast, and the soldiers surrounding her began to feel the tension that was emanating from the woman they were set to guard. If Xena were aware of their nervousness, she didn't show it. She had far more difficult concerns to occupy her mind.

Finishing with the soap, she threw it back out to the healer and ducked herself under the water to remove any remaining residue that clung to her. For all her immediate worries, she did allow the stray thought to register that it was good to be clean once more.

"C'mon, slave," barked Flaccus, "get out of there. We're not going to stand around while you take your ease."

Xena rose from the water like a goddess from the depths and made a slow stately progress back to the bank where she was thrown a rough towel which she used to dry off her long, lean body, "What now?" she asked as she threw the towel back to the healer.

A fresh, blue shirt was brought to her by Patroclese who helped her put it on, threading the collar chains through the neck, first one then the other. As the shirt settled onto her shoulders, she made eye contact with the healer who shook his head slightly before looking away.

Flaccus brought the belt and manacles back and Xena offered no resistance as the leather was fastened back around her waist, and she held her hands up for him to snap the cuffs back around her wrists. "We'll take the leg irons and chains off, while you put a fresh pair of trousers back on," Flaccus told her flatly, "Don't give me any trouble."

She nodded her agreement once more, far more concerned with working out just what Patroclese had meant by that small shake of his head. - Is it just possible that he won't say anything? - she silently asked herself. She knew that the healer felt guilty over his part in tricking both her and Gabrielle, but had that guilt so shook his loyalty to Caesar that she might just have gained an ally in the enemy's camp?

She allowed Patroclese to help her into the pair of brown leather trousers that he produced, "They'll take more wear and tear," he explained to her questioning look. Then he gave her her boots, "You can't march back to Lugdunum in bare feet. Lord Caesar wants you in fighting condition when we get back to Roman territory, and you'll hardly be that if your feet have been ripped to shreds, now will you?"

He had to help her put those on too. There was no way her chained hands could have managed the job on their own. Once she was settled into her footwear, which felt strange after going barefoot for so long, Flaccus motioned a soldier forward with a new pair of leg irons. The chain between the cuffs was longer, obviously to allow her to keep up with the marching soldiers. The long chains to her ankles were replaced, as was the beam through the crooks of her elbows and across her back. Once again Xena flexed her muscles against the thick wood to see if she could make any impression on it, and was disappointed by her failure.

Patroclese approached with a comb, "Let's see if we can get your hair into order. You look like some kind of barbarian at the moment."

"I thought that's what all Romans consider other peoples to be," she sniped tartly.

Patroclese ignored the comment, although Flaccus hit her hard across the arm with his vine staff, "You will learn to keep your smart mouth shut, slave," he warned, "Or by Jupiter, I'll have the hide off of you."

Fire burned in her eyes, but she held her peace, forcing her anger down, refusing to waste it on the Centurion. Caesar was her target, all the rest of his men were his tools. She could, and would, reserve her despite for her true enemy.

"Sit down, Xena," instructed Patroclese. Which she did with less difficulty that he'd expected. The longer leg irons allowed her the freedom to lower herself to the ground without the use of her hands.

The Warrior Princess watched as the rest of the Roman contingent, worked on breaking their camp. Patroclese's hands moved with a deft sureness as he teased out the vicious knots and tangles that had been allowed to accumulate in her hair. Finally, when he'd finished that, he quickly plaited two thin braids from her temples and secured them with twine at the back of her head, as he'd seen Gabrielle do on their way to join the Amazons.

"There," he said, "not as good as you or Gabrielle could have done, but better than it was."

"Thank you," she replied sincerely. It felt good to be clean and tidy once more. It made her feel more human and less like some animal.

"C'mon," Flaccus demanded, "It's time to get moving."