Trying to make himself more comfortable against the mast stump, Caesar crossed his legs at the ankles and gave her an intent look, "What if my men are the winners? What if it's Veranius who finds us?"

She didn't look at him as she considered what her response should be. Instead she tried to gauge how much daylight was left to them, and guess how long they were likely to be left floating around on a lump of wreckage. She could tell he was watching her, trying to predict just what she'd say, so she purposefully kept her face a blank mask, leaving him to sweat a little.

"You're right to be afraid if they come back for us, you know," he goaded, determined to force an answer from her, "When Veranius gets back here you'll be right back where you started from. Maybe I'll let Flaccus give you the whipping he's thought you deserved since the death of Blasius. You know he's certain you were behind that. He didn't care for the man, but he objects strongly when other people try to 'discipline' his men."

She refused to answer him, so he continued on in an almost conversational tone, "You know I think he has a grudging respect for you. He admires the way you stand up against adversity. But he has one small problem with that. He's never failed to break anyone put into his charge. You're providing him with a challenge and, after this little episode, I might just let him loose to break you as he sees fit. Perhaps I'll give him permission to work on you in between your training sessions in the Coliseum gladiator pits."

Xena turned coldly disdainful eyes upon him, "Don't count on it," she told him shortly, "I don't break easily, and I don't intend to let you get another chance at it, either."

Caesar was warming to his task, "You still haven't told me what you intend to do when we see that Roman ship coming towards us, Xena," he prodded, still failing to get her to respond, "Way I see it is you got three choices, none of them good for you."

"Please go on," she said sarcastically, "enlighten me as to what you think my choices are!"

He looked up at her proud, beautiful profile and felt his blood quicken, even in the midst of a situation where she held his life in her hand he could not stem the passion he felt for her. The heady mix of battle, conflict and lust that existed between them always made their emotions run high, although both were good enough actors to hide such feelings from each other. But he knew that they were both aware of some connection between them. Whenever they were within the same room they felt a charge of power that seemed to shed sparks as they clashed.

"Well," she prompted, "what are the three choices you think I have?"

Caesar smiled to himself. She may be physically dominant but his realm and art was manipulation, and Xena could still be effected in that way, however much she thought she had protected herself against him, "Your first choice is that you surrender and take the punishments that you'll have coming to you," he told her dispassionately.

"Go on," she encouraged, ticking that choice off of her own mental tally.

"Your second choice, would be to kill me and risk what my soldiers do to you," he informed her showing no real concern at the prospect.

"Now that's a choice that I might easily be tempted to take," she purred almost warmly, again ticking it off from her own mental list.

"I wouldn't advise that route, Xena," he told her calmly, "Not only would you die, but your little friend and those others would die a long and painful death." He watched as a shadow flicked across her expression, before it was once more set in the expressionless mask, "Your third, and final choice, is to kill yourself. Admittedly by doing so, you'd free Verchinex from his obligation to me, but you would once again be signing the death warrants of your friends. And I assure you that irritating blonde bard of yours will be cursing your name to all of your gods on Olympus before she reaches the gates of Hades."

He almost flinched as she turned her cold, icy gaze on him and sank slowly to her knees in front of him, withdrawing the dagger from her belt as she did so, "Let me make something quite clear to you," she told him in a low menacing rumble all the more chilling because it wasn't much more than a whisper and he had to strain to listen to her, "Should anything, and I mean anything, of that sort happen to Gabrielle, not all the fiends in Tartarus could stop me coming back for you and I swear you'll curse the day that your mother and father stole their first kiss!"

Never taking her eyes from his, she slowly ran the stiletto down the side of his face, down his neck and chest towards his groin, where her muscles suddenly tensed and she stabbed down hard, hearing a satisfying, "THUNK!!!" as it bit into the decking between his legs.

His eyes had widened in fear and relief as he realised that he was still intact. The Warrior Princess smiled at him, a smile that was as cold as the frozen north, and as devoid of mirth as the fiery pits of Tartarus, "Believe me, Julius, you know that's not an idle boast. I will find a way back to pay that debt to you."

He swallowed hard, believing every word she had told him. He knew of her previous death and her miraculous return to life. If she could do it once, he'd be a fool to believe that she wouldn't be able to do it again ... or find some other way to extract her vengeance upon him.

Knowing that she'd got her message through to him, she pulled the knife from the planking and slipped it back through the belt, deliberately turning her back on him as she went back to scanning the horizon for any sign of the returning victors. She almost wished that he'd try something stupid so that she could take some of her frustrations out on him.

Caesar watched the ease with which she moved, the confidence with which she carried herself. From the first moment he'd met her he had recognised a will, a spirit that more than matched his own. She was the only one, man or woman, who had ever caused him to fear. Even as he'd been held captive by the woman, - No child! - he amended, - she could barely have been sixteen at the time, - he had recognised that here was someone with a destiny as strong as his own. He had tried to snuff it out, before it could grow to challenge him, but at every turn he'd been frustrated in his efforts.

Yet through all the years they had been apart, he had never forgotten her. She festered like a wound in his soul. She burned like a coal in his heart. She was the thorn he knew would forever be in his foot, and when she had turned up in Rome those moons ago, she had again proven her power to disrupt his plans. Therefore he had turned his attention, to finally eliminating her threat, whilst providing himself with a use, a reason to keep her alive, so that he could prove his mastery upon her .... - And still she refuses to submit! - he growled in angry silence to her back.

Slowly he edged himself to his feet contemplating his chances of being able to take her by surprise. Without turning she snarled, "Unless you've got a death wish you better sit down and keep out of my hair!"

- She's inhuman, - his brain screeched as he sank back down on the rough planking. The sun was burning his unprotected shoulders and torso as it reflected off the sparkling water. As he sat unmoving on the deck of their raft, he slowly succumbed to the lethargy induced by a hot sun and the lack of water to replace the fluids that were thirstily sucked away from his body. Xena was aware as his breathing slowly turned deep and regular.

She turned and looked at her prisoner, - Who's really the prisoner? - she thought moodily, - Him, just because I removed him from his power for a while? Or me, knowing that there's more than an even chance that I'll end up right back where I started! - She frowned at herself for entertaining such thoughts. - I have to believe that it will be the Carthaginians who win and will find us. I can see no other way out of the gods awful mess that we're in. -

Xena turned her attention back to scanning the seas for any sign of a ship returning to search for survivors in the area. She stood until the sun sank with gathering speed into the blue depths of the western horizon, leaving her alone with Caesar and the darkness. She sank to the deck of the raft, drew up her long legs, hugging them to her body with her arms and allowed her head to rest on her knees. She couldn't afford to sleep tonight. She had to be alert in case a ship should return, or in case Caesar tried to turn the tables on her.

She'd noted as the last light flickered away, that his right wrist had swollen around the break and that the manacle was cutting into his flesh. - Well I haven't got anything here to set it with, and I'll be damned if I would even if I had, - she told herself firmly. - After all he's done to me and promised to do to Gabrielle, I'd see him rot before I lifted one hand to help him. - She shivered as the night temperature began to drop, - He's right about my choices though, - she conceded, - If the Romans are the first to find us, none of them are good. For Gabrielle's sake I'll just have to surrender to him and take my chances. At least I'll have made the bastard suffer for a while! -

The moon was high in the night sky, when she became aware that he was stealthily creeping towards her. She realised that she had drifted off into a light doze and the knowledge that, - I must have been more tired than I thought, - flashed through her brain before her head snapped up and blue eyes glared into brown, "Back off!" she snarled her hand flashing to the stiletto and presenting it ready for use, "Now!" she reiterated.

Ignoring the blade Caesar launched himself at her .. he was almost certain that she wouldn't kill him .. her care for friends would ensure his relative safety .. so he took the risk determined to reassert his mastery before his troops found them once more. He crashed into Xena's shoulder, knocking the dagger loose from her grip, and tumbled them over the edge of the raft into the placid waters of the sea. They thrashed around, the Roman's punches limited by his bonds and his broken wrist.

The warrior, after throwing off her initial surprise, struggled to contain her flailing adversary until her short temper snapped and she struck out with stiff fingers jabbing Caesar in the neck causing the fight to go out of him instantly. Grabbing an arm before he could sink, Xena hoisted the Roman back onto the raft, before pulling herself up to join him. Glaring at her personal nemesis, the Warrior Princess allowed the man to suffer the slow suffocation caused by blocking of the flow of blood to his brain, while she retrieved the knife and stuck it firmly back into her waistband.

Turning back to her suffering victim, the raven haired woman's hands shot out, once more, to release the 'pinch' as she snarled at him, "That was really dumb!"

Caesar grinned weakly at her, as he regained his breath and wiped away the trickle of blood that oozed from his left nostril, "Can't blame a man for trying," he retorted, as he retreated slowly to his end of the raft.

"Can't I!" she growled. "Try that again and I'll pin you to that stump with the dagger!" That she was deadly serious was communicated by the dangerous tenseness throughout her body. She watched carefully as Caesar settled down once more. Pinning him in place with her eyes, she stood and stretched the kinks out of her muscles, hiding the shivers that threatened to shake her now wet frame. She allowed a grim smile as she realised that her 'captive' was unable to hide his own reaction to the cold and wet, before she swept the night for signs of a ship.

She stood for some time looking into the blackness before her sharp eyes caught the vaguest flicker of a torch in the distance. As it slowly brightened she could pick out more as a line of ships were spread abreast and clearly searching for the survivors of the sea battle that had taken place.

It took a moment for Caesar to realise that she had spotted something, but as she darted quickly forward and pulled him roughly to his feet, he guessed that the victors were returning . The question was, though, who had won? He froze in place as he felt the chill of cold steel on his neck.

"I don't know which side won," she breathed in his ear, "But you're going to behave yourself, while I figure out what to do," she pressed the knife closer, nicking the skin of his neck so that he felt the hot trickle of blood on his flesh.

"Why don't you do yourself a favour, Xena?" he told her almost companionably, "Surrender to me now. Veranius will have won. Our fleet was far superior to theirs. You're in enough trouble now, without letting my men seeing you threatening me," he tried to sound sincere.

"Nice try, Julius. But it ain't over 'til it's over. Lets just see how the cards fall, huh?" she told him mockingly, knowing that if it was the Romans coming back, it didn't matter what the soldiers saw, because it was Caesar who pulled the strings, and it was Caesar who would, in that eventuality, decide her punishment.

It was impossible to tell which fleet the ships belonged to as they came closer. The night managed to hide any tell-tale markings and the moon wasn't bright enough to help. All they could do was wait until the ships were upon them. Yet, as the big vessels moved closer, Xena felt her heart sinking. Closing down upon the raft, her sharp ears detected Roman voices and her eyes soon picked out the familiar faces from the elite maniple. Her gamble had failed. The Romans had won, beating the Carthaginians and dashing her slender hopes of escape and, ultimately, rescue for her friends.

"Give it up, Xena," Caesar told her quietly as he recognised the ship, "You've lost this one."

An instantly familiar voice hailed them from above, "Stand away from the General, slave!" No threats, no bluster, just a straight order.

Having already made up her mind what she'd do in this situation, never really having another practical choice, she removed the knife from Caesar's neck and stepped back, maintaining a stoic mask even as Caesar turned around and challenged her with that infuriatingly smug, arrogant, smirk that only he could managed to contrive.

"Drop the weapons, Xena," he told her, once more master of the situation.

She almost gave in to the urge to gut him like the pig he was. Almost! But the memory of her bard stayed her hand. The knowledge that such an action would condemn Gabrielle, Joxer and Autolycus to lingering deaths, held her tightly, and she could not give into her own desires.

"The weapons, Xena!" Caesar commanded more forcefully.

She looked him in the eyes and her hand moved faster than sight could follow as she threw the stiletto directly at her captor, to land with shuddering vibrations in the wood between his feet. He held up his hand, to stay any reaction from Flaccus and his men. He, Caesar, had control here and he would force his slave, through the strength of his will, to submit to his orders, "The sword," he told her.

Slowly, she unbuckled the belt and allowed it to fall by her feet, the chain to her collar uncoiling to hang down to the deck, "Put your hands on your head and kneel over by the mast," he instructed.

Breathing heavily at the mortifying frustration of the situation, Xena knew she had little option but to comply. Moving slowly and deliberately, she raised her hands and locked them together behind her head, before shuffling to where she had been directed to wait. Within moments four soldiers had climbed down to the raft. One had a pair of short linked irons that he used to manacle Xena's hands behind her back, before dragging her roughly to her feet once more.

In the time it had taken for that to be accomplished, a boson’s chair had been swung over the side and was in the process of lifting Caesar back onto Veranius' ship. The Warrior Princess watched with no emotion as the chair was dropped back over and she was forced into the seat and strapped in. It took mere seconds for her to be hoisted back to the deck of the ship she had escaped from, and a hostile Flaccus stood ready to take charge of her once more. She noted that Caesar had been hurried below, Patroclese probably dancing attendance to minister to his master's wounds. She waited to see what they intended to do with her. She had little doubt that it would be both painful and uncomfortable.

When the four soldiers climbed back aboard with their commander's armour and weapons, Flaccus turned his attention to her. He signalled a man behind her who stepped forward and secured a rope around her ankles, "Take her up!" he ordered, and a dozen men leapt to pull on the other end of the rope, jerking Xena off her feet and sending her crashing to the deck, with no way to lessen the impact of the fall with her hands shackled behind her back. Her head hit the timbers heavily and she blacked out while she was hauled up on the yardarm, to hang by her feet.

"I want ten guards watching her tonight. Tomorrow we'll see what the General wants done with her," Flaccus barked.