Bored, discontent, moody and forced to keep her temper in check, Xena shifted within the cage, trying, with difficulty, to relieve cramped muscles that had been forced to maintain one position for far too long. Sullen irascibility marked her demeanor as she rested her head back against the bars behind her. The exhaustion that had plagued her, from Caesar's last attempt to break her will, was gone, although she still bore dark smudges beneath her lustrous blue eyes, giving her a vulnerable look that really was in stark contrast to her reputation.

The black shadows were a testament to the continuing torment by the residue of her nightmares. Images burned into her memory, waiting to torture her anew, were just a shallow handspan away, ready to haunt her should she slip too far into the dream brothers' realms. She closed her eyes shuttering the flicker of horror away from her watchdogs. Torment that she couldn't stop her eyes from showing even of the least horrific of the memories that lingered in her mind. - Windows to the soul, Gabrielle calls them, - she thought as she pictured her gentle bard's face, driving away some of the shadows that clung there, allowing the memory of her friend to act as a soothing balm on her lacerated, blackened, soul.

Forcing herself to relax, she allowed the rocking motion of the wagon to lull her into a half doze until the mid-afternoon when they reached the city of Massilia. As had become routine, the VIIth Legion set up camp outside the walls of the port, while Caesar led his personal guard, and the maniple assigned to watch over Xena, into the packed narrow streets of the city.

As they passed through the imposing western gate, the warrior could hear the excited pitch in the buzz of the gathering crowds. Here was a free spectacle to entertain the lives of the city folk. News of Caesar's entry attracted flocking crowds desperate to see their conquering hero. Loud cheers erupted at the head of the column as Caesar passed by, to be replaced by jeers and boos for the unknown savage shackled and caged like a dangerous beast.

Xena idly wondered if these people could have been any more hostile, even if they had known who she was. It had been many years since she had spent time raiding in Gaul and Narbonensis, but memories for such things ran deep, and she had little doubt that her name would have brought recognition. She didn't bother opening her eyes: jeering crowds were the same the whole world over and she had seen more than her fill of them. With the close proximity of the guards, and the narrow space between the bars of the cage, she had no fear that she would be pelted with the city's refuse. - Knew that they were useful for something! - she chuckled to herself as she thought of her six watchdogs sitting in exposed positions around her.

The column, wound through the streets and the disciplined tramp of marching feet on cobbled roads brought back memories of her own armies as they paraded through captured towns and cities. The only difference was the cheering. Her progress had always been marked by silence; the silence of defeated peoples who wore masks of hatred for their conqueror. They were not memories that she cherished.

She opened her eyes as she banished the images from the past and was faced by the imposing bulk of the garrison fortress as they rolled ever closer to it. Large and stone built, it bore the stamp of thorough, functional, Roman architecture. A soft sigh escaped her, which she hid by shifting her aching legs, as she realised they were yet another step closer to Rome.

Wincing as a muscle spasmed in her calf she told herself, - Be thankful for small things! At least, tonight, I'll be able to stretch in a proper cell. - she almost laughed derisively at that thought!

At Caesar's approached, the huge main gates were swung open to admit the procession. The maniple drew up in the large courtyard and Xena watched as the massive wooden gates swung closed, effectively sealing them off from the excited city, the populace of which continued to shout out their approval of the Emperor, until it became obvious that they would see him no more that day.

Through slitted eyes the warrior watched as Caesar was greeted by a man who was obviously the garrison commander. They seemed to know each other pretty well as they stood talking together for some time, before a look and a gesture was thrown in her direction, which brought a comment from the garrison commander, a smile and a salute.

- My accommodations being arranged, - she decided, - I wonder if I'll get a room with a view? - she thought whimsically, - Oh yeah! A view of yet another guardroom, no doubt! - she chuckled softly to herself, drawing startled looks from her guards.

Titus, the Junior Centurion, was assigned the honour of escorting Xena to her latest in a long line of cells, - Perhaps I should get Gabrielle to write 'A Guide to the Prisons and Cells of Narbonensis' - she mused still in her whimsical frame of mind.

A contingent of twenty guards stood ready to surround her once she was freed from the cage and the rest of the maniple waited in the courtyard, just to make certain she wasn't tempted to try an escape. She watched with little interest as the centurion leapt lightly onto the wagon and produced the key for her small prison. Using his strong wrists to good advantage, he turned the stiff key to snap open the heavy lock and then swung the door wide.

"Out!" he commanded, and waited for her to obey. It was routine. The orders, the guard, her 'obedience' had become a routine. She closed her eyes forcing herself to subdue the stubborn pride that so wanted to assert itself, to encourage her to rebel. "I said out!" Titus repeated .. his order being reinforced by a sharp jab in her back by one of her six baton wielding guards.

Her eyes opened fully. Fastening on Titus they burned with the naked desire to resist. Another harder prod was accompanied by a gruff voice that growled, "The Centurion said move!"

She gave serious consideration to defiance. She was so tired of having to control her desires, her wants, her needs, but a face floated into her conscious thoughts and she heard the bard's voice scolding her, "Xena, you promised! Don't give them another excuse to hurt you."

- Wrong time, wrong place, - she decided drawing a shuddering breath as she quelled the rebellion and forced it back into it's box. Sighing, the Warrior Princess forced cramped muscles to co-operate as she extracted herself from the cage. Once she began to move, she saw Titus stoop to retrieve the collar chain that had been left on the wagon bed floor when she'd been locked in that morning. She stood waiting, forcing herself to a semblance of docility as it was fastened to the band around her neck, and then shuffled forward at it's pull, dropping from the back of the wagon in a clatter of chains.

The centurion moved forward, drawing her after him, and the guard detail took up position around them. She had expected to be led towards the door that she had marked as the entrance to the dungeons, but instead found herself heading towards the west tower of the garrison. She hid her surprise at this change in procedure; not that it was difficult to hide her thoughts. Taciturn by nature, since she had been Caesar's captive she went days without speaking to anyone unless spoken to first.

She concentrated on keeping her balance and keeping pace with the soldiers, silently cursing the fact that they'd changed her leg irons back to a pair with shorter links since she had been travelling in the cage once more. - At least they let me keep my boots! - Stairs again became a problem for her, and there were a lot of them to negotiate. However, she was given the time she needed to make the climb safely to the top of the five storey tower, where she was taken to one of four rooms that occupied that floor.

A heavy iron door was swung open revealing a small room with two, narrow, arrow slit windows, a simple pallet bed supporting a mattress stuffed with straw and a single blanket. The pallet was close to one of the windows. Two torches lit the dim room, light being jealously warded from the cell by the narrowness of the embrasures. Nothing else furnished the room except a somewhat rusty iron ring that had been set into the wall above the cot.

Titus drew her over towards the bed where he quickly locked the chain to the ring, giving it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. With Xena's freedom, further contained, the centurion felt it safe to exit with the guards, leaving her alone within the cell.

It felt strange, she realised, to be free from continuous observation. For more than two moons she had been subjected to having her every movement, waking or sleeping, watched by at least six men. The sudden removal of this silent intrusion left her feeling almost edgy and vulnerable. Unsure of herself in a way that she had no real experience of.

It took he time to isolate those feelings and dispel them, but once she had it had felt so good to be alone at last .. and that led to the inevitable fear her normal six guardians would come through the cell door at any moment. So she remained standing where she'd been left beside the bed, waiting for them to return to take up residence, denying her the precious illusion of privacy and solitude.

She had no idea just how long she stood there.. her mind seemed to disengage, leaving her to soak in the wonderful feeling of seclusion that had been denied her for so long. Her mind dwelt on the relative punishments of solitary confinement and deprivation of privacy. Either could be a torment, but her nature would have coped better with the former rather than the latter. She was by nature a loner.

- Except Gabrielle stole that from me, - she conceded with a gentle smile. Her verbose young friend had broken through the walls she had painstakingly erected to keep her away from friendship and companionship, so that she was now at least willing to suffer the nearness of her friends. - That's a strange thought in itself, - she mused, - I don't think I ever believed that I, Xena of Amphipolis, Warrior Princess, Destroyer of Nations, would ever have a group of people who would deign to call me 'friend' -

Finally she awoke from her reverie and, satisfied that she would indeed be left alone, indulged her curiosity by shuffling across to the one window that the chain allowed her to reach, and looked out. - Well, well, - she chuckled, - a room with a view indeed! -

Although the slit was high and narrow, her own long frame allowed her command of the view below her, where a smaller person would have struggled to see anything but the sky. As it was, she had a bird's eye view of part of the city and all of the harbour where she saw and recognised a fleet of Roman triremes which lay at anchor there. She counted fourteen of the big war galleys and a handful of the smaller biremes as well. - Transport for Caesar and his pet legion? - she considered, - Or are they here for some other purpose? -

She spent some time just gazing out of the narrow window, just enjoying the chance to observe a normal world, when hers had descended into the pits of Tartarus. In her current existence the chance to stop and watch, without being watched in turn, was something rare to be treasured. She lost all track of the time that she spent just breathing in the distant sights and sounds of people free to come and go as they pleased, but it eventually registered in her mind that she had become jealous of the ordinary people with the ordinary lives, that had been unpolluted by the depths of anger and hatred that consumed her.

She turned away from the outside world with a discontented growl. She jerked her wrists against the shackles that restrained them, feeling her frustration beginning to burn up within her once more. She loathed being confined, she hated the chains that limited her movement, the cells that held her penned in, the intrusive presence of guards watching her every move! It was intolerable!

All of her life she had tried to avoid the confines of four walls. She felt constrained and hemmed in after any length of time spent inside. Her Mother had often despaired of her wild daughter who preferred to spend the daylight hours out in the woods and meadows, and the night time down in the more open stables, when she could manage to slip away. That feeling of being crowded in by walls, was beginning to be more and more persistent and invasive.

By returning to the bed, Xena relaxed the chain on her collar. Without really thinking, the Warrior Princess took a firm grip on it. She doubted that she'd be able to break the chain as it was made to the same strong specifications as her manacles and leg irons, but the ring was old and rusty. She examined it critically. With just a little effort she should be able to pull it out of the wall, leaving her free to roam the entire twelve foot square space of the cell.

A little more freedom. A small act of defiance. Minor things to remind herself that she was Xena of Amphipolis and not some pet animal belonging to Julius Caesar! With anger and resentment guiding her thoughts and actions .. and a need to assert her individuality, Xena took a tight grasp on the chain, flexed her considerable might and, with a screech of shearing metal, the chain came loose as the rusted metal was torn apart.

Allowing herself a crooked smile of satisfaction, she swung her attention to the cell door as it crashed back against the outside wall and the guard started to bull their way into the room. Facing them, blue eyes smouldering with icy fire that sent chills of fear through her opponents, she gathered in the thick length of chain and started to swing it in a lazy figure of eight pattern before her. "BACK OFF!" she warned, her voice like cracked ice.

The soldiers hesitated in the doorway for a heartbeat before deciding that it wasn't worth the pain involved in trying to subdue her at this point. They edged back out of her space, slamming and locking the door behind themselves. Senses alert, Xena heard the optio in charge of the guard, send a message to inform his superiors of the situation.

The Warrior Princess nodded to herself. The man was happy enough to leave her alone until ordered to do otherwise, secure in the knowledge that she couldn't get out of the cell except through the heavily guarded door.

Xena sighed. It was a minor victory and would no doubt be paid for, but it was necessary for her to keep her spirit alive. She shuffled across the floor to the arrow slit that she hadn't been able to reach, and gazed out into the falling dusk. There wasn't much of a change in the view but, since she had probably earned a beating to see it she was determined to make the most of it.

She stood by the window until the darkness obscured everything from sight, before shrugging her shoulders and turning back to her pallet. She had expected Titus or Flaccus to come charging in within moments of receiving the optio's message. She wasn't sure whether or not she should be disappointed by the lack of response to her small rebellion. That was a thought that almost made her laugh, - Like some child misbehaving to get her parent's attention! - That was not an image that sat well with her, however, so she mentally snarled, - Well, I'm no child and I don't give a centaur's fart for any of the attention I get from Caesar and his lackeys. In fact the less attention the better! - she declared silently.

She eased herself onto her bed. An unexpected luxury if ever she'd seen one. It had been so long since she'd slept on any kind of real bed that she'd almost forgotten what one felt like. As she settled into the prickly straw mattress, her stomach gave a hollow growl and caused her to wonder if she'd get any food after her little display of ire.

As if summoned, she heard the bolts being withdrawn on the cell door and, as they fumbled with the key in the lock, she quickly stood, readying the chain to employ it against anyone seeking to use it to re-tether her to anything. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as the door was swung open, but the look softened as she saw Patroclese, carrying a water skin and a tray of food, being ushered in and the door closing behind him.

"Xena," he said carefully, watching her to see if she was exhibiting any signs of violence.

She eyed him warily before dropping her defensive stance and allowed him to approach her, "Been given the task of talking me into more passive behaviour?" she questioned, "Or have you just been told to bring in drugged food and water so that they won't have any trouble when they come in here after me?" she demanded suspiciously.

Patroclese put the tray and skin on the pallet and held up his hands placatingly, "You have my word that neither the food, nor the water has been tampered with in any way," he promised.

She gave him a long, cool, look before deciding to believe him ... somewhat. The healer had, after all, proven himself to be a friend of sorts, so long as she discounted his role in bringing her to this pass in the first place. Since that time he hadn't lied to her, so she had no reason to doubt his word. She would be cautious though. Drugs could have been administered without his knowledge.

Xena moved around the bed and sat down on it facing the cell door. She picked up the tray and placed it on her lap. The plate on it sported a large helping of what appeared to be roast pork, as well as generous amounts of carrots, peas and turnip. Noticing the lack of any cutlery to eat with, she used her fingers to lift a piece of the meat and nibbled it cautiously checking for odd tastes that would alert her to tampering.

Motioning Patroclese to sit beside her, the Warrior Princess quirked an eyebrow and asked him, "Not even a spoon this time?" a faint tinge of sarcasm creeping into her tone as she sampled each item on the tray, before deciding that it would be safe to eat.

"Um, I think that you're upsetting Lord Caesar and his officers. They really weren't happy with you breaking that chain free," he told her. "I had to do some fast talking to get you a meal instead of a double squad of soldiers coming in here to batter you into submission again. I didn't think it too good an idea to press for cutlery. They seemed to think you might use anything I brought for a weapon."

Xena concentrated on eating for a while before she said to the healer, "Well, you better make your pitch."

"I'm sorry?" asked Patroclese a little confused.

"They sent you in here to try and calm me down and talk me into more suitable, slave-like behaviour, right?" she took another mouthful as he nodded, "Well you better get on with it, then."

The healer looked at her in confusion, guilt and anger, "Xena why do you do this? It gains you nothing but trouble. You can't escape, and every time you pull off some stunt like this you take punishment." He stood up and started pacing out the distance in front of her, "You know, I've fixed your injuries up more times than I care to count. I don't think I've ever treated any patient for more wounds ..."

"Talk to your boss about it," she suggested cuttingly.

He turned to face her, "I want to know, Xena, why you persist in drawing down the brutal punishments you get?"

She gave him a considering glance, "Look, Patroclese, I've tried to explain it to you before, but I'll tell you once again. It keeps me alive .. here," she reiterated, tapping her fist over her heart twice, "and, more importantly, it let's the bastard know that he doesn't control me. He may hold me captive and in chains, but he cannot control my will, my being. I won't be 'tamed' by him or anyone else. I am a warrior, this is the only fight in town and I'll be damned to Tartarus again before I let him beat me!"

He stood looking her for a long time as she finished off the food and meticulously licked the juices off of her fingers. He threw up his hands in exasperation and declared, "You are so stubborn!"

"You're not the first person to mention that," she admitted with a touch of wry humour, "So what do they intend to do about me?"

"Nothing," he replied shortly, "We're leaving for Rome in the morning. You can't get out of this room, so they'll leave you alone for the night. But in the morning, they'll come in here mob handed if you show them the slightest sign of resistance." He gave her a quizzical look, "You're not going to provoke them in the morning, are you?"

She raised an arched eyebrow at him, before sipping experimentally at the water in the skin. Deciding that there were no foreign substances in there, she took four long swallows, before avoiding his question with a compliment, "Nice meal. How'd you manage to get me that instead of the normal swill?"

Knowing that he was being diverted, Patroclese, never-the-less, answered the question, "I convinced Lord Caesar that you'd already lost far too much weight. You're not going to be much use to him if you lose your conditioning and strength. If he insists on making you his personal gladiator, he needs to make sure that you get good, nourishing food, or he could lose you. And if he does that ..."

"He loses his hold on Verchinex," she finished for him, "Yeah, I know. Don't think that I haven't considered that," she told him with a grim look in her blue eyes.

Patroclese turned stern eyes upon her, "Don't even think about it, Xena," he warned, "You're no use to your friends and family if you're dead."

The grim look was still there, but she replied, "Don't worry about it. I'm not dumb enough to think that Caesar won't bother with taking out revenge against those I care for should I deprive him of my services in that manner," She looked, he noted, glumly resigned to the situation, "No, I'll play his little game for a while longer ... but I'll play it my way, not his!"

"Xena ..." there was almost a plea in his voice, "Xena ..."

"Don't worry about me," she repeated as she turned her heavenly, dangerous eyes upon him, "I'll survive ... and maybe I'll give Julius a taste of his own games," she added softly.

Recognising that he could do nothing to change the warrior's mind, Patroclese gathered the tray, but left Xena the water skin. Without another word he walked across to the iron door and banged on it, "I'm through," he called, "Let me out."

Xena watched as the door was opened and swung shut behind his retreating figure. The torches that lit the dark room, were beginning to gutter making eerie shadows leap and dance as they spluttered towards darkness. Laying back on the bed, she allowed her eyes to drift slowly shut and she slipped into the light sleep that could be thrown off the instant her senses detected danger.