Ares forced himself to control his startlement as he turned to face his flighty sister who flounced, as ever, in the scandalous pink garment that hid nothing and promised everything, "None of your business," he growled moodily, as he watched Aphrodite tour around his abode, trailing delicately sensuous fingers over the deadly weapons of war that decorated the place.

Ignoring her, Ares stumped over to his throne-like chair and thumped into it in a heap, hanging his left leg over the arm to present his visitor with an image of arrogant power. "What do you want 'Dite?" he demanded belligerently, "You here to gloat, or is it just my turn to suffer from your inanity?"

She grinned at him, turning on the full power of her dumb blonde act, "Hey, can't a girl visit her brother once in a while?" she asked with a brainless giggle, "I mean," she added, "especially since he's barely set foot on Olympus since that business with Strife and ...." an enraged growl brought her up short, as she looked at him and registered the snarl on his face. "Oh get over it will you!" she chided.

"I'm not exactly welcome around our brethren at the moment," he commented acidly, "or are you so busy playing matchmaker to a bunch of mortals that you failed to register the fact?"

She looked closely at her brother and noticed the signs of despondency that underlay his arrogant moodiness, "Look Are'," she said in a far more gentle tone as she moved to his side and touched his hand, which he drew away from her with a petulant lack of grace, "You've been shut up in this mausoleum of yours for far too long. What you need is a hobby, something to give you back a bit of interest in life."

He stared at her from under hooded brows, "I'm not interested 'Dite! There's nothing out there for me to enjoy."

"What!" she demanded, hands on hips her voice sounding incredulous, "All those wars an' things going on and you're not interested!" She climbed up on the dias, placed a hand to his brow and ignored his attempts to try and shake her off, "Well you're not sick, so that takes us back to you being a spoiled kid who's lost his favourite toy. So c'mon, Ares, snap out of it, get a life, 'kay?"

"Listen, sis. Athena's quite happy playing soldiers in my absence, and Zeus has made it very clear that I'm a disgrace to the family, so just what in Tartarus is the point?!" he demanded, his voice rising from a dull roar to crashing thunder as it crescendoed.

"My, my, we are in a funk, aren't we?" noted a silky feminine voice reinforced by just a hint of steel.

"What is this?" demanded Ares finding his patience being sorely eroded by the sudden appearance of another sister, "What do you want, Artemis?" he yelled unsociably, "I've not been messing with your Amazon's and that's about the only reason that forces you to pay me a visit?"

He watched as the new arrival turned to Aphrodite. She was tall, lithe with a sleekly muscular frame, had curling, chestnut coloured hair and sea green eyes. She carried herself with the elegant poise of a hunter. Which, of course, was exactly what she was.

"Have you told him yet?" Artemis demanded of her sister.

Aphrodite twisted her fingers in the fabric of her gown and pouted as she answered, "Not yet. He's in such a bad mood he's really not about to listen to anything I say to him."

"What are you two talking about," demanded Ares, "C'mon, c'mon, hurry up and tell me so that we can get this little family reunion over with."

Artemis shook her head in disgust, "Really, Aphrodite, you've got to try and concentrate on things. It's bad enough having one member of the family lost in his own world of sulks and temper tantrums, without having an airhead floating around on some fluff ball as well."

"Cut that out, Artemis. If you weren't so worried that he'd just toss a fireball at you when you first showed up, I wouldn't be here at all. I'm doing this as a favour for you, my sister," she pointed out, her words dripping with sarcasm, "I can always haul my butt outta here. I've got much better things to do with my time." she patted a vagrant curl back into place

Ares was even more bemused by this exchange and asked his question firmly and loudly to try and cut through the squabble, "Exactly what are you two here for?!" .... And got absolutely no response from the two goddesses.

"Listen bubble brain," snarled Artemis insultingly, "All you had to do was come in here and mention Xena, and muscles would have even left a devoted conquering army in the lurch to hear what you had to say!"

"Xena?" Ares queried.

"Listen here dear, or should I say deer?" Aphrodite returned insultingly to her sister, "Just because you've got your leathers in a tangle over the warrior babe and her irritating friend, doesn't mean I have to share your interests. I came here outta the goodness of my heart, and I can see that my attendance is no longer required, so I'm outta here. You can tell bro' all he needs to know."

"APHRODITE!" yelled Ares losing his temper.

"Later," she grinned and blew him a kiss as she shimmered into nothingness.

"Artemis, for the love of Zeus! Will you tell me what all this is about and what does it have to do with Xena!" snarled the God of War as he turned on his sister.

She gave him a considering look before saying, "You really don't know, do you? I thought you kept a special watch on what the Warrior Princess was doing."

His eyes turned menacing, "Just tell me what you've got to say about Xena, and what in Hades name is your interest in her anyway."

Artemis's eyes also took on a threatening cast, "Well brother mine, one of your toy soldiers captured your ex-pet warlord and kidnapped my Amazon Queen. Both of them have been suffering from their captivity, although your darling Xena has taken the brunt of the beatings. Did you know she almost died a couple of moons ago?"

"Will you just tell me what's going on, without speaking in these cryptic riddles, Artemis, or I swear I'll send the biggest baddest warlord against your Amazons that I can find!" he threatened.

Artemis considered retorting in kind, but decided that filling Ares in on the situation would be far more telling, "Caesar captured Xena using a trick nearly three moons ago. He's had her chained, beaten, tormented and near death on a couple of occasions since. I wouldn't have worried, but he also took Gabrielle, my Amazon Queen, and had her beaten too. So I want you to use your influence with him to back off!" his sister told him bluntly.

"Well, well, well," Ares almost purred, "Xena's in the hands of Caesar ... again. I wonder if she's ready to listen to reason now."

"You never know your luck, Ares," she baited him, "But if Caesar gets her killed, your favourite hobby will be long past any way for you to tempt her back to your side. You need to get her away from him."

"Not that easy, my dear," he told her as his brain whirled around the situation. "Caesar tends to go his own way ... Oh I'm pleased enough with what he accomplishes, but he doesn't always listen to my ... 'suggestions'."

"Can't you control any of your people?" she demanded scathingly.

"He's too good at what he does for me to crush out his adherence in an overt act against him and, in his way, he wants Xena as much as I do. No I'll try to get her to pledge herself back to me, if she did that it would be worth losing Caesar, but I'll work on another way to release her as well, just as a back up ... something that comes from a direction away from me." He stroked his right hand along his beard as he thought, "If anyone's going to toy with Xena, or kill her, it will be me. In my time, when I'm ready to," he muttered absently.

"What about ..." began Artemis only to be rudely cut off by her brother.

"Haven't got time now. Been great chatting with you and 'Dite. Must do it again some time, sweet cheeks. Now why don't you go back and play with your Harlots and let me work a few things out."

"Ares you're absolutely insufferable," she shouted at him in outrage.

"Bye," he waved at her, blowing her a kiss, as she vanished in a shimmering green and gold haze.

"Time I took a grip of things," chuckled Ares to himself, enjoying the prospect of the diversion, as he sauntered across to a table and waved a hand across the waters of the scrying bowl that rested there. "Xena, Xena, Xena!" he chided to the reflection of his recalcitrant ex-warlord as he saw her hanging upside down from a ships mast, "What have you got yourself into now?" He laughed heartily, waved a hand and disappeared in a bluish silver light.

Artemis re-materialized in Aphrodite's sumptuously splendid apartments, "Well," demanded the Goddess of Love, "Did he go for it?"

"Hook line and sinker," grinned her sister as she stalked across to where the other woman was standing.

"Ohhhhh goody," screeched the blonde with evident delight.

"You can knock off the dumb blonde act now, Dite," grinned her sister, "It really doesn't do anything for me, or for you for that matter."

"Ah but it's so useful when I'm dealing with a man," she laughed, a rich full throated sound.

"I can't believe that they don't see through that act," Artemis laughed with her.

"Well, what's he going to do?" asked Aphrodite as she lounged back on a chaise longue.

"I've no idea, but anything has got to be better than letting him curdle in his own juices," came the reply, "Besides, Athena's getting way too big for her boots. It's time Ares returned to his responsibilities, and if he can help Xena while he's at it I'll be just as pleased."

"You know," grinned the blonde goddess, "One of these days he's gonna figure out that there's more than one of us whose interested in the big bad warrior babe. It's only because she has totally no respect for any of us that she hasn't been claimed as chosen by any number of the family."

"Well no one better get too many ideas. I want Xena bound to the Amazons, and as one of my own chosen." She gave a feral grin, "And I intend to get her too ... eventually."

Caesar tried to sit patiently as Patroclese ministered to the sunburn, on his body and bruising around his neck, with some soothing salves. They were still awaiting the guard to return, with the keys to the manacles that held him, so that his broken wrist could be cared for and set. Feeling sick with the pain, his face was a pallid white, beneath the burnt red, that reflected the agony of his fractured wrist and the swollen flesh that was being painfully cut by the metal of the cuff.

A knock at the door brought a curt, "Come!" from his lips, and Flaccus entered with the key which he handed to Patroclese who worked quickly to remove the restraints, although he took extra care as he opened the one around the broken bone. "Well what have you done with her?" he demanded of the Centurion.

"She's hanging by her ankles from the yard arm for the night. I thought you'd want to determine punishment and watch its execution in the morning, sir," offered Flaccus in explanation.

"Very good. I'll give you your orders about that on the morrow." His brown eyes grew hard, "What of the guard that was sent to escort her to my cabin? They knew how dangerous she is and they failed to secure her properly before bringing her into an open, chaotic, situation."

"The Optio, Lucius Cato, died bravely leading a diversion squad on a boarding mission against the Carthaginian pirates. He volunteered to lead the mission knowing it was certain death, but felt that his life was forfeit for his failure anyway," Flaccus reported. "The other five guards are under arrest awaiting you decision upon their fate, sir," informed the centurion neutrally.

"They'll be executed in the morning," Caesar informed him flatly, "The maniple must understand that Xena is to be given absolutely no room to pull any of her stunts. I didn't go to all the trouble of planning her capture to allow her to break free at will. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, sir," acknowledged Flaccus. He and the soldiers concerned had expected no less.

"Good now get out of here so Patroclese can do his job," ordered Caesar testily.

Flaccus saluted and left the cabin as the healer pushed a cup of water and herbs into his master's hand, "Drink this, it will help with the pain."

Caesar swallowed the brew and grimaced at the bitter taste, "Why do all medicines taste so foul?" he growled, "Is it a law in some healer's code that nothing that doesn't taste like rancid fish guts should be used?"

Patroclese allowed himself a soft smile, "Something like that, my Lord. My teacher always told me that if the medicine doesn't taste bad then it won't do it's job."

Caesar grunted as the herbs began to take effect and started to relax him, "Thought it must be something like that," he gave the healer a long look, "Well are you ready to get this over with?"

Patroclese had been waiting for some of the swelling to go down, which the removal of the manacle cuff had greatly facilitated. He laid out the splints and bandages that he was going to require on the desk and, once he was certain that the herbs were doing their task, he gripped his patient's arm and looked into his eyes, "Ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," agreed his master.

Bracing himself, Patroclese grasped Caesar's arm at the elbow and took his hand, then began to pull and twist until he heard the bone grate back into alignment. Beards of perspiration decorated Caesar's brow while the healer set the wrist and he couldn't contain a scream of pain as the injury was manipulated. Satisfied that he'd got the bone back into its proper position, Patroclese took the splints and bandaged them into place, before settling a sling around his master's neck and easing the injured arm into it, "Try not to use it," he advised, "Give it time to heal properly, or you might cause yourself some problems."

Caesar nodded his understanding, before he gave Patroclese a quizzical look, "Aren't you going to try and plead Xena's case this time?" he asked, knowing that the healer had previously done his best to limit the damage done to the slave.

Patroclese rolled up the bandages he hadn't used and set them in his medical kit, "Xena stepped over the bounds with what she did. You could not allow her to go unpunished for that. It would set a bad example amongst the men. Yet I think, as you still want her alive, you will have to temper how far you go," conceded the healer softly.

Caesar had already got that in mind, "Could she withstand fifty lashes?" he asked the healer intently.

Patroclese considered, "Almost certainly. She is far stronger than anyone else I have ever met. If anyone could, it would be her."

"What if they were to be separated into two separate punishments of twenty five? You could treat the injuries after the first session and then the second batch could be administered the following day," considered Caesar.

"That would increase her chances of survival, my Lord. But even she will need time to recover from that beating, and she's going to need my skills to insure that she doesn't get an infection or fever, so that you lose her that way," explained Patroclese unhappily.

"Very well then," decided his master, "Xena can't be allowed to get away with this, and casual punishments are not fitting for this particular crime. It will serve as an example to the troops as well as to my reluctant slave!"

"Do you need me for anything else, my Lord?" enquired the healer solicitously.

"No Patroclese, I'll be fine. Thank you for attending to me," dismissed Caesar absently.

"Should I check on Xena, my Lord?" the blonde man questioned again.

"No Patroclese," repeated his master a far harder voice, "She hasn't come to any real harm yet, she'll keep until after the whipping in the morning."

As my Lord commands," agreed Patroclese reluctantly, bowing deeply before making his exit.

As the door closed behind the healer, Caesar heard a deep, rich voice resonate from the shadows of the cabin, "My, my. After all this time holding her, you still can't control her."

Caesar swung around to confront the owner of the voice ready to call his guards in, "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Oh you know me, Julius," purred Ares as he moved into the light allowing Caesar to take in his large muscular form and the silver decorated, black leathers of the God of War.

"Mars," acknowledged the Roman, "What can I do for you?"

Ares took his place in a comfortable chair, crossed his right leg over his left and contemplated his chosen, "Let's just say that I'm looking up a few of my more favoured adherents ... checking on their progress, perhaps. And what do I find?" he asked raising a dark eyebrow at the arrogant human before him, "I find that one of my favourite generals has dared to lay hands on my favourite da ... um ... disciple." he corrected himself smoothly.

"Xena!" stated Caesar flatly.

"Xena," agreed Ares in a neutral tone. He fixed the Roman with a piercing gaze as he continued, "I want you to release her."

"No," came the stark reply, "She's mine. I've gone to too much trouble to take her to tamely let her go, even for you, oh great God of War."

Ares had expected the refusal, what he hadn't expected was the arrogant assurance with which it was delivered, "You question my command? You think to stand against me, oh puny mortal? I could make you beg to do my bidding. If it wasn't for me, your vaunted glory would be nothing ..."

"Not so," cut in Caesar fearlessly. "I know my destiny, Mars. With your backing, or without it, I would still be where I am today. Don't jeopardise our relationship over one woman. Xena's life is not in overt danger. She may not appreciate her current existence or what I do to her, but I will ensure she lives ... to serve me. And while she serves me, I will continue to serve you to the best of my ability."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" asked Ares dangerously, sitting forward in his chair, looking like a panther ready to spring.

"Not at all, my Lord God," answered Caesar politely, "I just think that you should know that if Xena should be removed from my hands by ... shall we say, divine interference, I am certain that one of your brethren would welcome my services and so be lauded for my conquests."

The Roman watched as Ares glowered at him while he digested this blatant piece of blackmail. Not sure what reaction to expect from the God, Caesar was surprised when the black clad figure threw back his head and laughed at the mortal's temerity. Finally, when his mirth had died, Ares looked at the man with humour still twinkling in his eyes, "It's a good job that I like you, Julius," he chuckled. "Any other man who had spoken to me in that way would now be taking the fast route to Hades domain." He stood up without warning and grabbed a handful of the Roman's tunic, "Still, let me make things quite clear. If you kill Xena, you will envy her death. She is mine, and the only person who gets to kill her is me," he told Caesar, shaking him lightly, "Understand?"

"As you say, Lord Mars, Xena's death is not on the agenda."

"Very well," smiled Ares releasing his hold, "And just to let you know .. I appreciate your good work. I admire a craftsman, and you are sooo good at what you do. Keep it up," he applauded, before vanishing in a scattering of silver blue light.

Caesar, sank unsteadily against his desk.

Not quite in the centre of Rome stood the magnificent edifice dedicated to the triumph of Mars Invictus, or Mars undefeated. Inside the towering portals were housed the battle standards of the conquered, the trophies of victory and the captured instruments of war. From here, Rome pulsed with the need to dominate the known world, to become master of all it surveyed .... And it was here that he came, climbing the marble steps of the portico and entering the temple through the massive doors that stood open to the faithful, even before the sun had risen over the sleeping city.

He strode across the tessellated floor that depicted scenes from the struggles Rome faced as it made itself great, ignoring both the art work and the priests, whom he brushed past without a moment's hesitation. They stood aside and watched the tall, stocky, blonde, armour clad, man with the flowing scarlet cape, make his way towards the altar. It was not their place to interfere with the man who rivalled Caesar for power in their city.

His eyes burned with a righteous anger as he replayed recent events in his mind. First he had received the news that Caesar had been scattering dinars like rose petals to gather information on the Warrior Princess. Next he had heard of the massive personal bounty that his rival had placed on the woman and her bard's heads. Then had come the disquietening news that Caesar had captured both Xena and Gabrielle, condemning them both to slavery for their crimes against the empire, - As was his right, - snarled the man, even though he hated to admit it. But what was far worse was the news that his adversary had concluded a treaty with the Gauls and, his spies assured him, managed to remove Verchinex from the scene entirely. That meant that Caesar was free to return to Rome and, with no trouble emanating from the Gauls, and no chance of Verchinex's name to stir the masses, it meant that the arrogant son of a bitch was free to woo the people of Rome and secure his position ahead of his rival.

What was worse, the man had made a fortune by using the Warrior Princess as a pit fighter. He now had enough dinars to buy Rome, and the blonde man had no illusions that the city wasn't for sale. Rome was the biggest whore in the known world and was willing to embrace anyone who could afford to purchase her favours.

The only good news that he had received was that Brutus had completely botched his task of escorting the bard, and two of her and Xena's friends, to be held safely within the confines of Caesar's palace. He was well aware of the current situation, that Brutus had men all around Rome scouring the countryside for the runaway slave and the men with her. It was also rumoured that there were two more men that Brutus was almost equally frantic to find. On top of all this, an Amazon delegation, including their Queen was due to arrive at any time. He had absolutely no idea what these women's connection to the situation was, but his acute political and honed battle senses told him that they were an interested party in the unfolding drama.

Therefore he had come to the temple to implore aid from Mars. He was, after all a regular worshipper of the God of War. He had paid homage on the battlefields and shed his blood for the greater glory of the Lord of Conflict. All he sought was a little divine guidance. For if he, Pompey the Magnus, couldn't coax Mars into aiding him, no mortal could.

As he reached the high altar, Pompey fell to his knees and then prostrated himself before his God. In his mind he cried out his petition and beseeched acknowledgement, - Oh Mighty God of War, Greatest of all of the Gods. Famed for your deeds in battle, your courage, your honour! Help me in this, my time of greatest need, guide me on the path to victory that I might serve you better yet! -

He awaited an answer, a sign, some signal that Mars had heard and acknowledged him. He waited in vain. Finally, after a candlemark's prostration, he arose from the chilling touch of the stone floor and stalked out of the temple the way he had come. Although he felt disappointment at being ignored, the exercise had not only been to seek the aid of Mars, but also to prove his religious devotion to the people of the city.

Outside, once more, in the hot early morning sun, Pompey leapt into the saddle of his great black warhorse and, looking the very image of the conquering hero, rode through the streets of Rome, accepting the adulation of the masses as his due, as he returned to his palace in the northern quarter of the city ahead of his personal guards.

When he arrived there, he threw the reins of his mount to the waiting stable hand and took the steps three at a time as he hurried back to the work that awaited him in his office. He had much to do before Caesar returned, and the news was that his adversary would be back in just a few short days. He marched past the sentries on duty outside his door and swung them closed behind himself. It was then that he felt the presence of another being.

Turning swiftly, he quickly located the shadowy form, but before he could raise his voice to call for the guards, a commanding, richly seductive, voice spoke saying, "You asked for my aid, " Ares stepped out into the bright space of the large well appointed room, "and I am a God who likes to give help to my faithful, when called upon to do so." He smiled as Pompey dropped to one knee before him and bowed his head.

"My Lord Mars," he answered, "I am but a humble servant, and am truly appreciative of the great honour that you do me by being here."

- Far more deferential, - approved Ares as he observed the Roman before him, - but just as stiff necked and arrogant as Caesar in his way. No wonder the two can't get along. - "Get up, man" he ordered and waited until Pompey had once more risen to his feet, "Just what is it you want from me?