Tempting Fates

Part 9

As they reached the wide, park like level they were treated with a brief, unsettling shifting of the ground under their feet and they stopped walking, Gabrielle reaching out instinctively to grab hold of Xena’s arm as she spread her boots against the rocking sensation. “Whoa.”

“Ah, there she goes.” Mele chuckled, but also paused along with the smith and weaver, and they stood there in the middle of the trees waiting for the motion to stop, holding their arms out a little from their bodies to keep their balance.

It was a very strange feeling, the seemingly firm surface of the path shifting and wiggling back and forth for a very long minute, then fading off back into stillness, and in the far-off distance, they could hear a faint, but audible rumbling boom.

Xena turned around and looked behind them, but all they could see was the ridge above the town and the dark sky past it.  Then she faced forward again and waited, but the earth remained stable under her boots and after a minute she relaxed. “That your earth shakes?”

“Indeed.” Mele nodded. “So you see, it’s wise to have the contraptions I have, to keep my wares safe.  Without the springs, the rattling would take apart most of my work.” He dusted his hands off. “Shall we continue?”

He led the way down the path and they followed along after him.  “Not sure I enjoyed that.” Gabrielle said, in a low mutter. “But I guess they get used to it here?”

“Mm.” Xena peered around through the oil lamp lit gloom. “Yeah, not my favorite experience either.” She murmured. “Felt like that fun we had on that path.”

Instinctively Gabrielle looked down at the ground. “Least it’s not opening up.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t be alarmed, ladies.” The weaver spoke up, in a soft voice. “These happen a lot. Once, sometimes twice a moon sometimes, once, twice in a sevenday.”

“That as bad as they get?” Gabrielle asked, as he was walking right next to him, and he nodded in response. “Just a little shuffle?”

“Sometimes, it shakes the lemons out of the trees.” Mele turned around and walked backwards, skillfully negotiating the path and it’s slant. “It is said, those are the juiciest, most flavorful lemons.”  He spread his hands out. “And there is no doubt, I can say, that this shivering ..” He wiggled his fingers. “Produces the very best sands for my art.”

“You get used to it.” The smith assured them. “It becomes automatic, I step back from my forge the moment I feel it, I never even have to think now.”

“Good to know.”  Xena said. “Hope it stays that way.”

“Has been for long, long lives of men.” Mele chuckled. “And will be for long lives more.” He turned back around and quickened his steps, waving them forward after him.

They could hear the crowd inside the inn long before they reached it, and when they did make it down to the lower level the yard around the inn’s stone building was full of small carts and draft animals, with the odd goat or sheep wandering around nibbling on the scrub grass underfoot.

Xena looked attentively at the animals, but they were all standing unbothered, seemingly undisturbed by the recent motion, most of the horses standing with one hind foot cocked and their eyes closed. She glanced at Gabrielle, and shrugged, and Gabrielle shrugged back.

They walked on, as the brisk wind ruffled the tree limbs overhead, sending a scattering of drying leaves down to drift past them.  Gabrielle idly caught one, and held it in her hand as they followed the artisans towards the door.

The building was set deep back from the road, and there was a path leading to the two steps up onto the wide porch around it. As they mounted them, they heard a roar of laughter from inside, and then the sound of a drum and fiddle strike up along with the clapping of hands.

“Sounds like a party.”  Xena said, as Mele stepped in front of her and worked the latch of the door to pull it outward and open. “Popular place?”

“It’s the only inn downhill.” The smith responded, glancing up past them at the rise. “Well, only one big enough for visitors, anyhow.”  He stood back to let them enter ahead of them. “Taps a good barrel, and the rooms aren’t bad. Not much for eating.”

The sound poured out as the door opened wide and they walked inside and entered a small triangular room with two big doors, one open that showed a packed room beyond and the other half closed, with a oil lamp lit hallway leading back further into the building.

Rooms, as the smith had said, Gabrielle assumed, suspecting their captain and his cronies had taken advantage of the chance to get off the ship, along with the merchants.  The patricians, she assumed, would have found a way up to the area around Hercules’ and Iolaus’ compound and perhaps were busy sitting in a gaming parlor, making deals.

Her imagination could readily picture it, and maybe the captain was up there as well, spilling out the story of Costas and the excitement they’d all been through, the townsfolk probably thirsting for news of the outside world.

She followed the three men and Xena to the right, into the crowded hall and amused herself with her thoughts as they eased their way through the crowd and found a thankfully empty pocket of space along the wall near the bar. Near the serving counter, a man was mopping up spilled ale, and a broken pot was on the ground.

In the crowd she could see some of their shipmates, the sailors who had worked the ship, and the oarsman’s leaders, standing near the windows that were flung wide open, with mugs of ale in their fists, their profiles clear against the lamplit shadows from outside.

The onshore breeze was bringing in the smell of the sea and the trees outside and keeping the air inside tolerable despite the crowd and though busy, it was not stifling inside though there was a strong scent of ale present that even the breeze couldn’t dissipate.

The windows let some of the sound escape, though Xena covered the ear facing the crowd with one hand, her lips twisting into a bit of a scowl, and Gabrielle bumped against her gently, giving her a pat on the back in commiseration, leaving her hand in place and crooking her fingers to add a little scritch.

Across from where they’d taken a position, there was a small, low platform with the two musicians standing on it, stamping their feet as they plowed through a creditable rendition of a folk tune she’d often heard played back home and the crowd quieted down a bit to listen.

In front of them a few young men were in a cleared space, doing a nimble dance to the tune, slapping their hands on their legs in time with the music and stepping through what was obviously a well-known set of motions.  It was a catchy tune, and she found herself tapping her fingers to it as she leaned against the wall with her shoulder, waiting for a server to come within reach.

The smith was spotted with his towering height and width and in a minute, a woman in a brightly colored tunic worked her way through the crowd to where they were standing, a wooden tray held against her hip with one hand.

She had an almost brazen confidence about her, old enough to have been around long enough to develop that and it was obvious that she knew the three men well by sight and they her.

“Finally closed up, did you?” She glanced at the group, giving both Xena and Gabrielle a once over before she put her tray on the edge of the wall they were against. “And brought some friends I see.” She winked at the smith with a knowing expression.

“Now then.” The man spluttered. “These are customers, Lilith. Keep your mouthings to yourself.” 

“That’s right.” Mele knocked his knuckles against her tray. “These fine ladies just kept Pegolas from taking a piece before I was ready to give it, I’ll have you know.  I owe them a mug in thanks.” He pointed at the bar. “So take your lips over there and bring us a pitcher.”

Lilith looked at them, with a droll expression. “Right away, your lordship.” She responded, with a burring roll to her tongue.  “Have a care, ladies, that he pays and doesn’t leave you with the bill.”  She looked meaningfully at both Xena and Gabrielle. “And mind the ale, it’s strong for those not used to it.”

“Thank you.” Gabrielle said, grinning. “We’ll take care.” She added, aware of the faint shaking of Xena’s body as she laughed silently as well and with a further look of doubt, the server ducked and moved away, heading for the service table.

“Brazen wench.” Mele said, but with an affectionate tone. “But a good lass. Bettina wouldn’t know how to get through the day without her.” He added. “She’s been the main help here since Bets husband ran off. Good riddance.”

Gabrielle eyed him with interest. “Bad news?”

The glass artist half shrugged. “Got himself caught up in a cult.” He said, briefly. “Popular, up the hill. Probably is still up there begging in the streets for it, but no sense in revisiting that. She doesn’t like it talked about.”  He glanced to one side where a short, bearded man was trying to get his attention. “Brody! When did you get here?”

Xena let her elbows rest on the small shelf behind them and leaned back, crossing her ankles.  The room was really packed full of patrons, gathered around small tables just big enough for a round of mugs, and for standing, not meant for food or to sit down around them, paying tribute to the smith’s dismissal of that service.

It was designed to hold a crowd, and it did. There was just enough room between the tables for people to squeeze past, as friends and acquaintances moved from group to group, sharing the day’s news or in some cases, sat quietly with their mugs, strangers passing through.

The crowd was mostly men, workers and what appeared to be working class visitors and it reminded her a lot of Cyrene’s inn at home, a well-used, comfortable place to end the day’s work with, though her mother’s place had seated tables and was known for her cooking.

Scattered among them though were a few women, most in daily working wear, overtunics and aprons, middle aged and leaning their elbows on the bar tops, with easy smiles and calloused fingers wrapped around worn wooden mugs.

In a minute the server was back and plunked a pitcher on the ledge next to them, handing each of them a mug. “There you go, friends. Enjoy it.”  She pointed a finger at Mele. “And I’ll be back soon for the coin for it.”

Xena reached over and picked up the pitcher, offering it up to the rest of them and pouring a stream of the golden brown liquid into their cups.   She filled her own and put the pitcher back down, then sniffed at the beverage briefly before she took a sip of it.

Gabrielle judged by the faint facial twitches she could easily read that it was drinkable, and took a sip of her own, pleasantly surprised by the nutty taste.   She leaned back next to Xena, their shoulders just brushing and stretched her ears out to listen to the conversation around them, her eyes focused on the young dancers ahead.

They weren’t performers, they were in the dusty leggings and shirt of field workers, but they were having a good time dancing alongside each other, showing off something they probably had learned as boys, as she remembered kids in Potadeia learning.

Jigs, to show off to girls and to pass the time herding the sheep.  She remembered the girls gathering around near the back of the small common hall to watch the mock competitions, where boys showed off their burgeoning strength in hopes of attracting some romantic attention.

As these youngsters were attracting, from the back of the hall where the inn’s servers were gathered, necks craned, eyes watching them move with looks of somewhat critical speculation, judging the placement of feet, and the height of the jumps.

People were the same everywhere, she concluded, with a faint smile, knowing that up the hill, in the beautifully fitted out parlor they’d recently left there were, though more fancifully dressed, the same prancing and ogling going on that would likely end with the same results.

Or not. People were funny that way. 

“Now what’s this I’m hearing, Mele?”  A tall, very thin man in dock worker’s gear had come up on the other side of them and circled around to Mele’s side. ‘What’s Pegolas up to now? He was after Lennas for his lemon crop just this morning.”

“Ah, he wanted his lady’s wedding gift early.” Mele said, in an expansive tone. “Was down by the shop, throwing his weight around demanding I hand it over.”

“And you didn’t? I heard he already paid your coin.” The tall man elbowed Mele in the ribs. “Wanting a bonus for it were ya?”

The other two artisans laughed. “He knows you.” The smith said. “No doubt.”

“Not in the least.” Mele affected an air of hurt dignity.  “He asked for a little extra himself, matter of fact and I wasn’t done with it and so told him.” He lifted both hands in appeal. “Have you known me ever to turn over unfinished art?”

“That’s true enough.” The weaver’s soft voice broke in. “And the piece itself is a wonder.”

“Pegolas is an arrogant bit of work. He thinks his coin is shinier than anyone’s.” The dock worker said. “No doubt he wanted time to show that piece off to the rest of the lot of them before he presented it to his lady, so they could clap his good taste.”

“Well, I wasn’t having it..” Mele said.

Gabrielle focused past that, since she knew that story already and listened to the two men on the other side of them, leaning close together, voices low.

Low, but not low enough for her not to hear them, tones with a southern accent, rounded speech that reminded her of Athens, and they had leather over tunics with intricate stitching that marked them as reasonably well-off merchants.

Olive pricing.  Not so interesting.  She turned her attention to the man and woman behind them, who were studying some parchment on the small table they were standing against. The woman had the parchment in one hand and was pointing at something on it, tapping the surface with her finger.

The man just shook his head. “Best we could get.” He said. “Was either that, or we head up the road, and no shot getting a better coin that way.”

“You could go up the hill and ask. He’d make it right.”

“He doesn’t have time for lil things like this, Emma.”

“You could ask!”

Gabrielle’s imagination quickly filled in the possible gaps, assuming the him they spoke of was likely Hercules. She debated a moment with herself as to whether she should get involved, using her peripheral vision to scan the pair, judging their clothing and attitude.

No, she decided, there was no real sign of distress there, just a discontent with a deal and as the woman was saying, if they felt strongly enough about it they certainly could just traipse up the hill and talk to someone about it.

“Why that’s right, he set his two dogs on me, see..” Mele was getting into the story. “There I was holding them away from my set wagon, figuring either me or the wagon was going down and then out of the blue..”

“Right out of the blue.” The smith spoke up eagerly, and next to him the weaver nodded in solemn counterpoint. “These ladies came into the workshop off the lane and just walked right past them and told em to stop!”

The tall man looked over at Xena, who produced a charming smile in response.  “Yes we did.” She agreed. “I told em either they backed off, or I’d beat em up.” She took a sip of the ale and batted her eyelashes at them.  “Then Gabrielle ruined my fun by talking their boss off the ledge.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “I didn’t want to see any of those pretty glass things broken.”  She explained. “It would have ended up a mess and it’s much more fun to just be here, having a cup of ale.” She lifted her cup in his direction. “Right?”

The tall man looked now from Xena to her, and then back to Xena. Then his eyes widened a little. “Hey now, wait a moment, are you the ladies who came in on that ship today?” He asked, his voice lifting in question. “Where is that old salt, he was telling me something..” He looked around and then back at them. “You must be.”

“We came in today on a ship, that’s a fact.” Gabrielle agreed. “I think some of our shipmates are against that back wall there?” She indicated with her mug.

The tall man looked in that direction. “No I don’t see the man.. now where is he and that rascal ropeman… they were telling us something about a serpent…”

“Ah, here we go.” Gabrielle leaned back again. “Our reputation is about to catch up with us, Xe.”

“Fraid so.”  Xena leaned next to her, propping her elbow on the shelf as the man let loose a few shouts across the crowd. “Well, a little bit of our reputation.” She amended. “Hopefully not all of it. Not sure we’ve got time to go over all that tonight.”

Gabrielle snickered.

The man looked around the room again, stretching his neck out. “Ah there he is!  You there! Steersman! Come over here.” He pointed behind them. “That story you were telling.. were these the ones? These two ladies here?”

A figure pushed its way through the crowd, which had now started to turn and focus on all the commotion near the back wall, and as he came closer his eyes lit up and they recognized the man as a sailor from the ship.

“Surely twas!” The man nodded vigorously. “Thought you ladies would be up with the fancy pants!” He said. “Was telling em all about that storm, and you killin that ginormous sea serpent and all that and how we escaped outta Costas!”  He looked around. “I told ya alla that right?”

The musicians had stopped playing and now everyone was turning around and craning their heads to see what was going on with all the yelling and pointing.

Mele turned around and looked at Xena, his eyebrows hiking up. “You killed a sea serpent?” He asked in some astonishment. “An actual one?”

Xena nodded, then pointed at Gabrielle. “She helped.”

A clamor went up. “ Now wait.. we missed hearing all about that for sure. “ The smith said. “What’s this story now?”  And a chorus went up around them. “Tell it again, Atho, tell it.” Hands pushed the sailor forward, and he almost stumbled, then caught himself on a table.

Now the crowd clustered closer and the focus was on the sailor, and the dockworker pointing at him and the two women standing behind them against the wall.

Thrust into the spotlight, the steersman hunched his shoulders and made an almost comical face. He looked quickly around as though trying to escape, then chewed his lip, seeing there was no getting past the now very interested crowd.

“Ah…” He waved his hands. “I could… but better you ask her to tell it!” He pointed at Gabrielle. “She tells all kinds a stories and she had a real good view!” He pointed at her again, thrusting his finger. “That’s the one. She’ll tell ya all about it.”

“Ahhh.” One of the merchants from the town edged forward between the crowd. “I heard what there were some friends of our guy up the hill here.” He looked at them avidly. “You all them? Joost was sayin he brought two ladies up the hill from the ship… seems like they were you from what he said?”

Gabrielle was aware of an odd undercurrent in the room, a ripple of some emotion she found hard to pin down as she scanned the faces and the stances of the people watching them.

Xena’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, a gentle, but firm touch that she could feel the tension of through her cloak, a tightening of those long, powerful fingers. “Yes.” She answered finally, into the murmuring buzz of the room. “That’s us. We’re friends of Hercules and Iolaus.” She kept her voice mild and ordinary.

Another silence followed. “You want to hear about the sea serpent? Sure.” She continued. “Be glad to tell you about it. Let me go over and stand up on that platform there.” 

That got a response, and the crowd started to shift, some of them taking a step back to clear a path up to where the two musicians were still standing, holding their instruments and looking around in some puzzlement unsure of what to do.

Xena’s grip remained firm for a moment, then she relaxed her fingers and gave her a pat on the arm instead. Gabrielle looked up and around at her, studying her face. She could see those pale eyes scanning the crowd, and the faint crease in the middle of her forehead.

“Be right back.” Gabrielle turned her head all the way to the side and gave Xena’s fingers a quick kiss. “Keep my ale cold.”  She put the mug down on the shelf and gave herself a shake, running her hands through her hair as she moved away from the wall and headed for the platform, easing through the crowd that parted to let her pass.

“Sure will.” Xena said, in a thoughtful tone.  She put her own mug on the shelf and braced her hands on the ledge, her heightened sense coming sharply into focus as she worked to tune in the unease that something was making her feel.

The crowds interest swiveled to fasten on Gabrielle as she climbed up onto the platform, and the two boys surrendered it to her with quizzical looks.  They retreated towards the bar, and the barman shoved two small cups towards them with somewhat grumpy brusqueness.

“Never seen a lady storyteller before.” The weaver said, in his soft voice. “Didn’t know they knew how.”

That made Xena smile, and she relaxed a little, as the tension in the room faded, replaced by wary curiosity as Gabrielle studied her audience and prepared to start her story. “You’re about to see one.” She told the man. ‘Hope you enjoy the experience.”

She met Gabrielle’s eyes across the room, and got a wink, then she took a deep breath in and started to speak, using the practiced, round tones calculated to draw the crowd in, setting up the scene, talking about the ship, and the night, and the storm.

You could almost hear the thunder.

**

Xena disengaged her attention from the story and scanned the interior of the pub, watching the crowd as they listened with interest to what was being described from the front of the room, as Gabrielle walked the width of the low platform, moving to address one side of the crowd and then the other.

She had been in unnumbered pubs in unnumbered towns over the years they’d traveled together and she could usually tell if the audience in the room were keyed into the tales Gabrielle was telling, or were just listening politely and this group had allowed themselves to be sucked in and were visibly enjoying the experience.

She wasn’t really surprised, Gabrielle had been doing this for a long time now and she had an reliable sense of her audience, switching up her style and the parts of the story she elaborated based on what she felt they would most respond to.

This bunch wanted thrills and blood and excitement and a story about a storm tossed merchanter being attacked by a sea serpent was an easy pitch. She leaned heavy on the pitching boat and the fangs and they had some of the sailors in the back cheering and ooying in counterpoint when they got to the bloody bits.

The spinning serpent head thumping across the deck was particularly popular and Gabrielle was careful to include the spray of blood wind driven across the deck with a sweep of her arm and a half turn of her body, describing the arc of the gore and the way it laid down a blanket of bloodstain across the deck of the ship.

Just as she’d gotten to that part, with the ship pitching and Xena bounding around to face the third serpent head she noticed the door to the outside hall open and three men entered, in common homespun earth tone working clothes.  

They glanced up at the platform and reacted with some surprise, before looking around and finding a spot near the back wall to lean against to listen with folded arms and skeptical expressions.

They were all young, with varying shades of dark curly hair and a common stamp on their features that made them likely siblings. They had full, but raggedly shorn beards and two of them had leather aprons tied around their waists.

The servers knew them. One of them squirmed their way over with a stoppered jug in his hand, and the three grinned on seeing him approach, but only for a second, until they turned their attention back on the story being told.

Gabrielle brought the tale to a neat conclusion, including the town in it as she described the beauty of the morning and how glad they were to see land approaching as they sailed into port on the rays of the rising sun. 

The ending was met with whistles and boot stomps and Xena used her height to good advantage in catching the server’s eye and holding up her mug in anticipation of Gabrielle needing to ease her throat from having to speak loudly enough to carry across the noise of the tavern.

“Well then.” Mele turned to her, catching the motion. “I have to say that was a very pleasant surprise, madam.” He told Xena. “The lady does, indeed have the talent. A very exciting tale, and perhaps I understand now why three soldiers gave no pause to you.”

Xena smiled easily.

“If I may give a word of advice.” He leaned closer, as the server returned with a fresh jug of ale.  “The folk here, they are a more open-minded kind being a port town, you understand?” He made a gesture over his shoulder behind him. “Up the road not so much.”

“Ah.” Xena took the jug the newly arrived server offered, filled Gabrielle’s waiting mug and handed it to her as she arrived back at the table after some brief delays as she was held up along the way with compliments. “All the more reason for us to go there, then.”

“Go where?” Gabrielle asked.

“City up the road. They don’t like uppity women apparently.”  Xena informed her. “So I said we should go up there.”

“Ho ho ho.”  Gabrielle chuckled.

Mele looked at her with deep interest. “You would go looking for trouble?” He sounded more intrigued than shocked, his eyes brightening.

“Yes.”

Both Xena and Gabrielle answered at the same time and with the same inflection. “Thank you for the mug.” Gabrielle added, with a bump of her hip against Xena’s. “That’s actually a pretty good definition of our day to day lives, Mele. Looking for trouble.”

“That’s a fact.” Xena reached over and ruffled Gabrielle’s hair, freeing it from the collar of her shirt. “Good job with the story. I liked the whole hissing part. I don’t remember hearing that.”

“You were busy stabbing the middle head in the throat, hon. It was screaming at you so I’m not surprised you didn’t hear it.” Gabrielle drew in a deep breath and then took a swallow of the ale, pausing to swallow and then clearing her throat. “And I was a lot closer to that head’s tongue.”

Lilith had hung around, listening with interest. “Scary, huh?”

That question made Gabrielle pause and think, reflecting on the fight thoughtfully. “You know, you just don’t really have time to be scared.” She answered. “If you do this sort of thing enough.”  She glanced up to see a wry grin on Xena’s face. “Well, it’s true.”

“It’s true.”

The server shifted her tray to her other arm as the crowd pressed closer, obviously eavesdropping.  “Hey.” Lilith addressed Gabrielle casually. “You know any more stories?”

Gabrielle regarded her with a lifted eyebrow. “A few.” She replied in a judicious tone. “Why?”

“Bettina was asking. Let me go find out why.” Lilith turned and waved her tray back and forth in front of her. “Lemme through here!”  She ducked past the tall man who had first brought up the stories and headed this time not back to the service area, but to a small door behind it that was just slightly ajar.

Gabrielle eased around to settle next to Xena leaning against the wall, one shoulder up against a bend in the wall so she was in a relatively secluded spot.  She stood quietly sipping her ale, listening to the crowd, many who were talking about the sea serpent, as a maritime town it was a familiar legend to them all.

She thought it had been pretty well received, after the initial wariness and she could see many eyes, directly or indirectly looking at her and Xena and some of the discussion no doubt included them.   

The sailors were now preferred drinking buddies, and a group of them were circling a table giving their own viewpoints and they were being watched by a few of the latecomers against the far wall who seemed to have some doubts.

One of them kept glancing their way, looking off if she started to meet his eyes. So that was a little interesting. Gabrielle wondered if he just though it was a made-up story, or if he had an actual issue with her telling it. The surprise they were encountering at being both self-sufficient and independent was getting kind of annoying.

The smith leaned on the shelf on Xena’s other side and lowered his voice. “So it’s true, then.  You fought the monster.” He said, his dark eyes watching her face intently. “As a man would.”

Xena looked sideways at him.  In the mellow light of the inn, her pale eyes having taken on an almost hazel tone. “It’s true I fight.” She said, after a moment. “I killed the serpent, but that’s just the last in a very long line of things and people that I’ve fought and killed. I wouldn’t say it’s how a man would.” Her lips twitched a little. “It’s just how I would.”

The smith studied her thoughtfully. “I do not mean to be rude.” He said as preface. “I just am surprised and wonder how a woman became so proficient in the arts of war.”

“Practice.”

The smith gazed at her, Xena merely gazed back in silence.

Lilith came back just then and went right over to where Gabrielle was leaning. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Gabrielle responded promptly.

“Bettina says, if you tell another story, she’ll comp the grog.” Lilith said. “If you know one of the old ones, about Olympus, you know?”

Gabrielle regarded her. “Why?” She asked. “I’m sure plenty of those get told in these parts since you’ve got the son of Zeus living here.” She added. “I mean, right? He’s a demigod. Iolaus knows more Olympian stories than I do.”

Which was not probably actually true.  But it made the point.  She watched Lilith’s face, which was twisting itself into a frown, the dark brows knitting over her nose, a slightly crooked nose that looked to have been broken at some point.

“He doesn’t like to talk about that.” The server answered, with a faint shrug. “I know so, my cousin Elba’s a chatelaine up town, minds the banquet hall.  So we don’t hear it.  She wants to, wants to hear one of the ones about the old gods. You know one?”

“I know one.” Gabrielle answered wryly.  “Sure, I’ll do it.”

With a brisk nod the woman scooted off again, and across the room, the two musicians hesitantly came back up on stage and started to play a reel, though the volume was more restrained than they’d used before.  

“Want to get some fresh air?” Xena asked suddenly, prompting Gabrielle to set her mug down and hold out her hand, which was taken and enfolded.   They walked along the wall to the door, and slipped through it, emerging back out into the chill, salt tinged air outside.

It was good to be out of the density of ale and people.  Gabrielle felt her shoulders relax as they walked through the small stock holding areas on either side and came back out onto the path, turning to get a view of the sea, and the port, and the bulk of the ship that had brought them ahead of them.

“What was that about you think?” Gabrielle asked.

Xena gave herself a shake, flexing her hands and stomping a little inside her boots. “The story?”

“Yeah”

Xena took a few strides down the lane towards the ocean and stood at the edge of the pubs property line, gazing out across the darkness of the water, watching the slight motion down by the docks of a few workers, moving back and forth and a trickle of sailors returning to their ship.

Their ship? No.  Xena glanced to one side as Gabrielle came up next to her, the onshore breeze ruffling her pale hair. “What do I think.” She pondered. “I don’t know what I think, Gabrielle. I get that Herc doesn’t really want to hear stories about his family, y’know?”

“We know, better than most.” Gabrielle readily agreed. “No that part I understand but why do the people here want to hear about them so bad?” She wondered, folding her arms across her chest. “You think they think it’s kind of going away from them here? The older folks?”

Xena slowly turned around and regarded the slope. “Like that hilltop temple in Costas.” She said. “I’m sure that must have been dedicated to one or the other of them back in the day. Now it’s a gathering place and a theatre. Used for mortals.”

“You don’t think it was originally a theatre?”

“No.” Xena said absently. “There was an altar stone there. In the back behind where we were sitting. I could see the carvings in the base.” She turned back around and looked at Gabrielle. “Which story were you going to tell?”

“Hadn’t thought about it yet.” Gabrielle murmured. “An altar? Really?”  She frowned. “Is there one that I should tell?” She looked sideways at Xena. “Not one with us in it. That could get a little weird.”

“Yeah.” Xena put her hands on her hips. “Mmm… why not start at the beginning?” She asked. “Tell how the Olympians beat the Titans.”

“Oh that’s safe.” Gabrielle said instantly. “Great idea. Big battles, monsters, thunderbolts. They’re gonna love it.” She dusted her hands off. “Okay might as well get back there.”

Xena put a hand on her shoulder. “Can you stall it for about a quarter candlemark?” She asked. “I don’t want to miss that story.”

“Of course.” Gabrielle said and turned to watch as Xena gave her a pat on the top of her neck and turned to start up the slope. “Are you..”

“Yep.” Xena called back.

“Bring my..”

“Yep.”

**

Gabrielle took a long moment before re-entering the pub, standing by the walkway railing and giving a patient, elderly pony’s ears some scritches while she went over the story in her mind, setting the sections in order and thinking about how much detail to include in them and what kind.

These were all adults, they needed no filtering but still and all, there was a purpose to the telling and she wanted to be sure she had her marks in order in the sequence she wanted to hit them in. 

The pony whuffled a little and shoved his nose across the railing and into her chest and she chuckled softly, giving him a final pat on the cheek before she pushed away from the rail and strode up the few stone steps and to the door of the inn.

Her ears caught the sound of rapidly approaching bootsteps inside and she quickly jumped to one side as the door slammed open and back against the wall of the inn, letting a man in a cloak storm past, apparently not even seeing her standing in the shadows as he walked to the gate in the railing and flung it open, cursing audibly.

Gabrielle was about to move to the side in order to enter but then a sturdy aproned figure filled the opening and leaned out with both hands on the sill.

“And keep your bloody hinders out of my inn, you piece of useless yap talk!”  The figure yelled. “Go up the hill where you belong!”

“I’ll come back and have this place from you, ugly woman!!” The man yelled back, as he pulled a horse by the bridle out of the yard with him, yanking the animal along viciously and leaving the yard gate open behind him. “See if I don’t!”

Gabrielle hastened down the path and grabbed the gate, shoving it closed and looping it before the interested stock inside could wander out.  Then she shook her head and returned to the door where the woman was still standing, watching her.

“Jackass.” The woman shook her head. “Thank you, traveler.” She then focused on Gabrielle as she returned to the porch and came into the lamplight. “Oh.. you’re the storyteller aren’t you?” She sounded surprised. “Lilith didn’t tell me you’d gone out.”

“Hi.” Gabrielle responded. “Yes. My name’s Gabrielle.” She said. “I stepped out to get a breath of the sea air, before I went back to storytelling.” She studied the woman. “Are you Bettina?”

The innkeeper took a step back to allow her to enter. “I am indeed.” She agreed. “That’s a very pretty name, Gabrielle.  You told a very pretty story inside there, I missed some of it, but I enjoyed what I heard.”

Gabrielle came inside. “Glad you liked it.” She studied the woman, who was possibly a little older than Cyrene, with black hair pulled back into a bun and silver streaks from both temples back.  She was dressed in a cook’s apron with splashes and stains on it and a deep pocketful of stirring spoons in the middle of it.  “Thanks for asking for a second.”

The woman smiled now, relaxing easily. “Have to take advantage of what the luck of the sea sends you now don’t you?” She asked, with a wink.  “It’ll be good for this lot to hear one of the old stories. Too many tale tellers come through here and never mention our traditions. What we believe in. More about the wars and all that.”

“Well, I know those too.” Gabrielle admitted.  “What was that guy’s problem?” She looked behind her at the still open door, where the loud and angry man had long disappeared into the shadows.

“He thought his room came with a bedwarmer.” Bettina stared at her meaningfully. “Came out in the hall after our youngest lass, all het up and I had to cool him down with a swing of my skillet.” She made a sweeping motion of one sturdy arm in front of her.  “I don’t need coin bad enough to let that behavior go on in my house.”

“Good for you!” Gabrielle let out a delighted laugh. “My mother-in-law would applaud!”  She said. “She owns our main inn back home.”

“Where’s home, m’dear?”

Gabrielle hesitated briefly. “Amphipolis.” She watched but saw no sign of recognition. “It’s a town in the borderlands with Thrace.”

Now Bettina’s eyes widened. “You are far from home.” She said, in a surprised tone. “Oh but then I heard you were some friends or somesuch with our patron then. Is that why you’re here? To visit?”

It suited her to keep chatting with the woman. “Yes, Xena and I were crossing the Ionian plateau and we met up with a messenger from here, with an invitation to Hercules’s birthday party.” She explained. “So since we were out of town already, we headed over.  Should be fun, I saw them setting up for it earlier.”

The inner door to the rooms opened and a young girl slipped out, spotting Bettina. “Oh ma, thanks so much for that.” She exhaled in relief.  “What a rutting goat that was.”  She glanced at Gabrielle, and gave her a brief, polite nod. “Is he gone then?”

“Gone and good riddance.” Bettina said briskly. “Now reset the room and let me get to work selling it to make up the dinars for tonight.” She gestured. “And this is Gabrielle, the storyteller you heard from the kitchen earlier.  If you hurry up, you can come into the taproom and listen again.”

“On it, ma.” The girl grinned at Gabrielle. “You can tell a proper story, ma’am. Keep your eyes out though, some of those boys are looking to give it a go, if you know what I mean.”  She ducked through the door in the other direction and closed it after her.

Bettina sighed. “Hope they all behave themselves.”  She glanced at Gabrielle. “Some’s as think any woman with a will is a challenge.” She went behind the small built in wooden desk and then brought from under it a dagger wrapped in leather. “Would you like a bit of a persuader?”

From behind her, Gabrielle could hear footsteps approaching and recognized their weight and cadence without much trouble. “I think I’ll be fine.”  She said, glancing behind her as Xena came up the steps and into the anteroom, with her cloak around her shoulders masking the distinctive outline of her sword. 

She had Gabrielle’s staff in her hand that she tossed to her as soon as their eyes met. “This as far as you got?” She asked, as she glanced around a room that now seemed much smaller with her active energy in it.  “No sign of Herc yet up there.”

Gabrielle caught the staff one handed and grounded it. “You told me to stall until you got back, Xe.” She protested. “This is Bettina.” She introduced the innkeeper.  “Bettina, this is my partner Xena.” She tapped her staff on the ground. “So, like I said, I think we’ll be fine.” She paused and looked at the woman. “But I hope they behave themselves if they know what’s good for them.”

The innkeeper saluted them with the dagger, then put it back under the desk. “As you say, travelers.  Enjoy your night.”  She waved at them as they went through the door into the pub, releasing the rumble of sound and smell of ale into the outer chamber, then dimming it again as the door closed.

“Well well now.” Bettina leaned on the desk with both elbows. “Life is getting a little interesting tonight.”  She pushed upright and instead of going through either large door she opened a hatch in the wall just behind the desk and slid through it, shutting it behind her.

**

The story was finished and the night ended up after it with the pub emptying slowly out, talking easily, leaving the crafters and Xena and Gabrielle at a roughhewn trestle along with Bettina and Lilith as the last of the patrons wandered out into the cold night air.

“Ah, now that was the ticket.” Bettina settled back against the wall with a satisfied expression. “A story well told, like in the old days.” She nodded at Gabrielle. “Nicely done, traveler and I thank you for it.”

“It’s plain she’s done such a time or two before.” Mele smiled.

“I have.” Gabrielle murmured. “I don’t think this one was familiar to anyone.” She added, in a thoughtful tone.  “Kinda surprising, because it’s a classic. I remember hearing it from traveling bards when I was a child back at home.”

“To be honest we’re not much for that in these parts.” Mele responded frankly. “Too busy with the day to day, if you understand. I’m more worried about getting quality sand for my work. I’ve never asked for any help with that, not since I came journeyman and knew my craft.”

The smith nodded but kept silent.

 “So is all that a true story?” Lilith asked, as she came back from the service bar with a large and battered metal pot of steaming herbal tea and a cluster of worn cups. “That Olympus stuff?”  She looked at Gabrielle. “Sounds wild.”

Gabrielle regarded her for a moment, her brows knit a little.

“Yes.” Xena supplied, in a mild tone. “The details might have been embellished.” She slowly turned her head to look at Gabrielle with one arched brow. “But it happened, if that’s what you mean.”

“How do you know it did?” Lilith asked, ignoring a jab in the ribs from Bettina. “You weren’t there, were ya?”

Xena decided not to take offense and accepted the cup of hot tea the girl passed to her. “I wasn’t. But I know enough to know it’s true.” She took a cautious sip of the tea. “And Gabrielle knows all about the Titans.” She added, with an affectionate side glance.

“Muhuh.” Gabrielle chortled softly.  Then she looked back at Lilith. “You’re not a believer?”

Lilith shrugged indifferently. “Never saw much use it in myself.”  She said, honestly. “Makes a fun tale though, I enjoyed the story.” She paused. “But you think those things are real, for real?” She sounded honestly surprised.

“Yes.” Both Xena and Gabrielle responded at the same time, in the same wry, certain tone. “And I’m pretty sure Hercules would back that up.” Gabrielle added, with a touch of droll humor. “I know he doesn’t like to talk about them but they are what they are.”

 “I don’t know. It just sounds so weird.” Lilith set the tray down and picked up the last cup. “I mean, how does that even work? How do you end up half one thing half something else?”

Gabrielle reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, avoiding looking over her shoulder when she felt Xena rest her elbow on it. “Well, you know..”

“Life’s weird like that, sometimes.” Xena supplied, with a straight face. “But if you think of the Olympians as a.. family that just exists in a different way, it can make it easier to imagine.” She leaned against Gabrielle. “Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“If you say so.” Lilith swirled the tea in her cup. “I think it’s a kind of a scam. Some of us do. So no dis to you, storyteller, like I said it’s a great story, but..” She shrugged, and walked off, heading back to the service area with her tray dangling from one hand.

“Kids.” Mele snorted. “They’ll learn one day what believing is.”

Bettina leaned over towards them. “The girl means no disrespect.”  She said. “She grew up rough, you know. Didn’t have much guidance, and she runs with the lads and girls of the town, they’re a bit wild.” She added in a confiding tone. “But she’s a hard worker.”

“No problem.” Gabrielle responded. “Sometimes people have to figure things out for themselves.”

“She needs to get married and settle down.” Mele said, somewhat portentously. “Gal her age needs to be making a home and having some children not running all hours with the stablemen and the dockworkers. What kind of life is that?”

“Hush.” Bettina waved him off.

“Anyway, time for us to head off and get some sleep.” Gabrielle said. “Have a good night.” She set her cup down and reluctantly the group broke up and started moving towards the door.

Xena kept her hand on Gabrielle’s back as they left the pub and started up the slope. “Where.” She said, as they let the crafters get a few steps ahead of them. “In our plans did roaming around being advocates for Olympus get scheduled?”

“Yeah I can’t even. Someone is laughing their behind off somewhere.” Gabrielle twisted her body from one side to the other to loosen up the muscles in her lower back.  “Lets get this birthday party over with and scoot, Xe. It’s starting to feel very…”

“Weird.” Xena said, succinctly. “Yeah, something just doesn’t feel right.”

**

It was very quiet as they reached the upper slope.  The oil lamps were burning somewhat low, their flames fluttering in the wind coming in off the water at their backs and they had left their new crafter friends behind, politely declining an escort back to their lodgings.

Ahead of them the path was empty, but up near the gates into the compound there were five figures clustered somewhat together, long cloaks obscuring their bodies, their motions somewhat agitated.  

Xena and Gabrielle kept walking towards them, making no effort to hide their approach and as their boots scraped across the stone steps the group heard them, and turned to look.

“Think it’s the goon from earlier?” Gabrielle murmured.

“Hope so.”

“Xena.”

“He was an ass, Gabrielle.”  Xena said. “He’d be just the type to get more muscle and come to show off his manhood again.” She reached up to fluff her hair up out from under the collar of her cloak, casually rearranging the cloth to clear her scabbard.

“Well, nothing like a scrap to end the day with.” Gabrielle shifted her grip on her staff, thunking the end of it down onto the rock as she walked.

The figures split apart and spread out to block passage of the lane and as they reached the top of the slope and passed into the circle of golden oil lamp light at the gates the figure closest to them held a hand up in a halting gesture.

Xena quickly scanned their faces, but they were strangers and their cloaks bore no sigil she recognized.   She continued walking until they reached the line of them and stopped, coming to a halt as the onshore breeze picked up a little, fluttering her own cloak against the backs of her legs. “What’s going on here?” She asked, in a brisk tone.

The figure in the lead took a step back. “Oh.” He said. “Pardon me, ladies. I wasn’t expecting to see such as you out walking in the night air.” He said, in an apologetic tone. “We were told there was trouble brewing down at Bettina’s inn. We are part of Lord Hercules’ guards.”

Xena tilted her head thoughtfully. Then she turned and looked back down the slope before turning back around to face the man. “Seemed quiet to us.”  She said. “We were just down at the inn. Crowd was breaking up and going home.”

“Oh.” The man said again. “We had heard there was a fight, and a man killed.” He said. “You saw nothing?”

Both Xena and Gabrielle shook their heads. “Is Hercules back?” Gabrielle asked.

“No, lady.” The man shook his head. “No sign yet.” He frowned and looked past them. “Well, we should go down and see what the story is so we can report on it.  Clear the path and let these ladies pass.  They were surely no part of the problem.” He gave them a little wave of his hand and the others scattered, bobbing their heads in respect as they swirled and circled around them to head down the path.

Xena turned on her heel to watch them leave, their boots scuffing roughly on the stone, the men hefting short poles they pulled out of holders on their right leg.

“Shows how much they know.” Gabrielle said, dryly.  “Maybe it was that guy she threw out of the inn. He said he’d be back to make trouble.”

“What guy?” Xena swiveled back around to regard her. “What did I miss?”

Gabrielle tucked her hand into the crook of Xena’s elbow and started walking towards the gates. “Some guy staying there was trying to take advantage of one of the inn workers.”  She said, as they strolled into the orchard, feeling the wind from the sea reduce as they were surrounded by the walls. “Bettina hit him with a skillet.”

“In the head? That what those guys were after?”

“Not in the head.” Gabrielle grinned briefly. “He was walking around yelling last I saw him. So unless he went after someone else it wasn’t that.”

“Ah.”

Inside, the smell of the trees and the tilled earth became stronger along with the rich scent of straw from the baskets stacked neatly on either side waiting for the next day’s harvest to begin.  

Behind the grove of walnuts there were lines of other trees, and Gabrielle drew in a breath of the lemon tinted air and exhaled. “I wonder if they have any of those lemons to spare? I’d like to get some to dry out the peel, Xe. I think it would be nice for tea.”

“I’m positive if you wanted one you just have to ask.” Xena glanced around. “Unless you’re asking me to go steal one for you.”  She steered Gabrielle to the right, between the trees and off the path as the shorter route to the building they were staying in. “There’s some of them on the very tops over there.”

Gabrielle chuckled. “I’ll ask tomorrow.” She kept firm hold of Xena’s arm as they walked under the branches, the light breeze only gently fluttering the leaves, that brushed together with the brittle crispness of fall. “Its pretty protected up here for those to grow.”

“It is.” Xena reached out a hand to touch the bark of one of the trees, running her sensitive fingertips over it. “Remind me to see what medicinal herbs they’ve got here. Bound to be some we don’t see at home.”

They walked up the steps, seeing the lights in the gathering hall dimmed, and walking through the still propped open doors to the building there was only the sound of the settling of the wood around them, and on the wind a low whinny from the stables.

The hallway was empty, all the doors were firmly closed, the oil lamps flickering sedately, casting a dim, mellow glow that followed them to their rooms, the door opening at Xena’s light touch on the handle and swinging back with a well oiled silence.

Inside it was as she’d left it when she’d come up to get their weapons and Xena undid the catch on her cloak and swung it off her shoulders as Gabrielle shut the door behind them.

Inside they found a fire neatly built in the fireplace that spread a gentle warmth into the room and the wooden shutters had been closed in the windows to block out the chill.   Next to the fire was a wooden tray with cups and a water pot, and a plate containing some olives and cheeses and one of the small loaves of herbed bread.

“Nice.” Xena hung her cloak up and reached behind her to grab Gabrielle’s from her hand to add it to the hooks in the wall. “Seems like they take care of their patrons here pretty well.”

“They do.” Gabrielle leaned her staff against the side of the fireplace and went over to the water basin, washing her hands off in the cool water and wiping them.  She went over to their bags resting on the bench and sat down, opening hers and removing her well-worn leather pouch from them to set on her lap. “Let me see what I have in here.”

Xena removed her sword and sheath and hung them on a lower hook and went over to the bed, sitting down on it and bouncing experimentally.  She patted it in approval and rested her hands on the surface, sliding her boots out as she watched Gabrielle sort through the packets in her bag. “It occurred to me that maybe Herc is finding an excuse not to be here.”

Gabrielle glanced up at her with a wry grin. “Because you would?”

Xena shrugged a little, and grinned back.

“I don’t’ think so, hon.” Gabrielle stood up with a packet in her hand and walked over to the fireplace, taking the pot of water from the tray and opening the top to sniff it before setting it on the hook over the fire to heat. “I don’t think he’d really do that to Iolaus. Leave him here to deal with it.”

Xena lay back on the bed and regarded the ceiling of the room with its finely joined wood joists. “No, that’s true.” She admitted. “Besides, they’re using it as a way to turn the gifts around to give to other people. He’d be all right with that.”

Gabrielle turned back to the tray and pulled the cups over then looked at the round ceramic pot with the spout next to them with a fluted glass stopper in the top.  She removed it and looked inside, seeing a surface below it with fine perforations forming a surface. “Ah.” 

She emptied the herbs from her pouch into the top of the pot and set the stopper side, waiting for the water to boil before she then poured it into the ceramic pot until it’s level filled it, covering the leaves.  Then she put the glass top back on the pot and regarded it.

Xena was still lying on her back, but her head was turned to watch what was going on. “Teapot.”

“Yeah.” Gabrielle agreed. “All in one not the little wicker basket we use at home.”  She touched the top of the stopper with one finger. “It’s pretty.” She could feel the heat of the water through the surface against her skin. “Like that glass art Mele was making.”

“Yeah.” Xena got up and came over to look at the object, and then sat down in one of the comfortable chairs on either side of the fire and started unlacing her boots. “I’m trying to think if anything that produces is worth the effort to find out how to do it and locate the sand he said you’d need to do it with.”  

She pulled one boot off and set it down, regarding the crimson-colored sock underneath it. “The stuff he does is gorgeous, but so damn fragile. Does that pot work any better than the one we use at home?” She hiked up her other foot and unlaced the second boot, putting it down next to it’s mate. “Does it make better tea?”

“Lets find out.” Gabrielle picked up the pot and swirled it, then she poured some of the contents into each cup, releasing the scent of berry and spruce into the room as the steam rose over them.  She set the pot down and picked up one of the elegant cups, taking a sip from it and licking her lips thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

Xena picked up the other cup and sniffed the contents.  Then she also took a sip.

“Tastes the same.” Gabrielle admitted.

“You picking the right herbs probably has more to do with the result than the thing you put them in.” Xena remarked. “Were those the berries we found by the river?”

Gabrielle smiled and nodded “I dried that last batch of them and mixed them with my venison kit.” She took her cup and settled on the arm of the chair Xena was seated in, draping her arm over Xena’s shoulders while they sat quietly in silence for a while, sharing their tea.

Just watching the fire, enjoying the moment together, appreciating each other’s presence with an understanding built on their history living their lives.

“You know what I think?” Gabrielle finally spoke up, when they’d almost finished, after watching the wood in the fire pop and send sparks up the stone chimney.

“If I don’t, I am about to.” Xena rested her head against Gabrielle’s side, looking up in wry affection. “What’s bugging you?”

Gabrielle took a moment to savor that indulgent tone.  “These people we’ve been traveling with, and the people here.”

“Mm?”

“It’s normal for them to consider women…” She paused in thought.

“Weak? Dumb?” Xena suggested.

“No – just less than able.”  Gabrielle said slowly. “It’s that they seem very surprised when women can do things. Like… tell stories or do metalwork or things like that. I don’t like being assumed incompetent.” She finished, with a frown. “I mean, like those crafters. They weren’t mean or anything about it they were just really surprised when we said, yeah, we do that too.”

She stared into the fire. “I could get that they might not like seeing a woman do that, but why are they so darn surprised?”

Xena crossed her socked feet at the ankle and set her cup down on the table, then folded her hands over her stomach.  “Hmm.” She mused. “Could be they’re generations deep into tradition, Gabrielle.” 

“Tradition.”

“Mm.” Xena nodded. “You come from a traditional village, you know what I’m talking about.” She looked up at Gabrielle’s profile. “You told me once that there were people who lived there, and Hades, at mine too that was the way they knew to live. Women did this, men did this, kids did that that’s what you did.”

“Hm.” Gabrielle echoed the sound. “Yeah. If you do that enough generations. But I never got the sense that people at home thought women couldn’t do these things, just that it was frowned on if they did. Like my father. He knew I could tell stories, he just didn’t want me to, he felt that it wasn’t fitting for a girl to do that.”

“Even if you could.”

“Even if I could.” Gabrielle murmured. “But like that smith, you know, Xena he was totally floored when I told him you did metal work.” She said. “I don’t think he believed me.”

Xena cleared her throat softly. “Well..”

“Yes I know.” Gabrielle leaned her head against Xena’s. “You can do all sorts of things that surprise the Hades out of people but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Xena lifted up one of Gabrielle’s hands and kissed the knuckles. “It’s sad.” She remarked. “You shouldn’t put people in boxes. Let em do what they can do.”  She smiled a little. “I know whenever someone told me I couldn’t do something, I’d do it. Just to prove the point.”

“Except cook.”

Xena laughed, a rich, light sound. “You got me there.” She said. “But that’s the way the world is, I think. People get into a pattern of doing things a certain way and it sticks.” She looked thoughtfully at the fire. “You have to fight like crazy to break out of that.”

“It’s easier to not.” Gabrielle answered, mournfully. “Unless you’re us.”  She exhaled. “So does that mean the world gets smaller and smaller for people like us, Xe? And it ends up just being a little town in the mountains that does weird stuff?”

“I don’t know.” Xena said, honestly. “Feels like it sometimes.”  She eased upright and then stood, lifting Gabrielle up with her. “We can only do what we do as long as we do it.”  She bumped her gently towards the bed. “So lets go do what we do, and leave it for another day.”

She paused and listened, then walked over to one of the wooden shutters and pulled it open slightly. “Horse coming this way from above.” 

“Hercules?”

“Hope so.” Xena closed the shutter and bumped her towards the bed again. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

**

It was well before dawn, the widely ajar shutters letting in the soft night sounds and the very first burbling of birds nearby, but the oil lamps in their room were all lit, and the interior had a warm, golden glow that spilled out over its two occupants busy about some usual morning business.

Xena was seated next to the fire sharpening her sword in an easy, rhythmic manner and Gabrielle was standing nearby, pouring hot water into their novel teapot, leaning over slightly to cup the steam coming up out of it with her other hand and breathe it in, eyes half closed in tentative evaluation of its pungency.

They were both fully dressed despite the early hour. Xena had her cloak draped over the back of her chair waiting for her to finish her task, a vest of soft red leather laced over her white linen shirt and dark leather leggings tucked into her just cleaned knee-high boots.

Gabrielle had on a beautifully embroidered dark green long blouse and golden hued leggings, with an intricately tooled leather belt around her waist, matching the bracelets of the same tanning on her wrists, the worked surface decorated with a pattern of small, colored stones.

A soft, distant sound of a bell floated into the windows, and Xena glanced up and tilted her head to listen. Then she went back to her task. “Sounds like a boat’s coming in.”

“Is that the sea bell?”

“Either that or someone has a cow with a six-cubit wide head.”

Gabrielle chuckled. “I’d rather skip seeing a cow with a six cubit wide head so I’m going to imagine it’s a boat.”

A brisk knock came at the door.  They exchanged a quick glance and then Xena stood up and walked over, shifting her sword into her right hand as she pulled the door open with her left.  “Ah.” She said in mild but pleased surprise. “It was you I heard coming back last night.” 

Hercules was in the doorway, a light cloak around his shoulders. He had on a sky blue silk tunic under it, and darker blue, flowing pants, a stolid elegance. “It was.” He agreed. “Got a candlemark for a chat?”

“Absolutely.” Xena stepped back and cleared the way for him to enter. “C’mon in.”  She said, waiting for him to come inside before closing the door again.  “Glad you made it back here. We were going to come looking for you otherwise.” She said, as she followed him across the floor to where Gabrielle had neatly set a third cup down on the tray.  “And I hear that city up there doesn’t care for uppity women.”

“Hah. That’d have been nice, actually. I would have welcomed the backup.” He grinned briefly. “And no, they don’t. Hercules rubbed his hands and held them to the fire, glancing over his shoulder at them. “Anyway, welcome. Glad you made it out to the… ah… party.” He gave them both wry looks. “Which is not all that’s going on around here.”

“Uh oh.” Gabrielle swirled the teapot around and poured out the three cups, then she set the pot back onto its hook and came over, giving him a brief hug. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”  She sighed.

Hercules chortled wryly under his breath. “It’s always something.” He agreed in a mournful tone. “But it’s been quiet for months I should have expected it.”

Xena wiped down her blade and returned it to its hanging sheath and then joined them near the fire, pausing to also give the demigod a hug. “We weren’t about to turn down an invite to your birthday party.” She said, as they all sat down. “No matter what chaos came with it, or that we brought with us for that matter.  So what’s up? Typical stuff?”

Hercules picked up one of the cups and took a sip from it. “Well, it’s definitely chaos. Not sure how typical.” He said. “Aside from a dozen other minor things, there’s a big fire mountain inland on the that’s rumbling.”  He eyed them both. “You probably saw it on the horizon coming in.”

Xena cupped her hands around her tea. “We saw it. Big cone.”  She said. “Something brewing with it? Olympus involved?” Her tone was knowing. “Some new bet on the horizon?”

Surprisingly, Hercules shook his head. “For once, no.” He said. “I went right up and asked. It’s the first thing I thought, you know? I mean, here we are, settled in a place, having a peaceful time of it and then a mountain nearby stirs. What’s the odds?” His voice took on a slightly sardonic tinge.

“What’s the odds.” Gabrielle echoed the words, with a slight shake of her head. “Kind of a lot for a coincidence. Really nothing?”

“No.” Hercules said quietly. “It was a little strange, to be honest. Zeus took my asking seriously which is a first rather than just zapping me and setting my shirt on fire. He even thundered off and checked with Hades without me prompting him.”

“Hm.” Xena grunted. “That sound different than I remember it being.”

“Yeah, me too.” He lifted his free hand in a slight shrug. “For better or worse it’s been a…” He grimaced slightly. “Truce?” He considered the word in pensive silence for a moment. “Yeah, a truce between everyone. Since…”  He glanced at them. “Since we last saw you.”

“Yeah.” Xena said. “That was a thing.”

“That was a thing.” Hercules repeated. “Anyway, what made me go up there was a small crack in the ground near the crest of the ridge above the town.  We’d been getting more frequent earth shakes here, and I wondered. I rode far enough to get a good look, and that mountain’s smoking.” He related. “People say it’s been doing that for a while.  I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the first time it’s been stirred up.”

Xena nodded. “I heard about the soil they’re raising in the crops in.” She said. “I’ve heard about that being around fire mountains.”  

 “Its useful, and great for the farmers so it’s a net positive.” Hercules said. “But it got here somehow.” His eyes met Xena’s briefly. “Somewhen.”

“Yeah.”

Gabrielle had a sense there was a level of understanding between them that she wasn’t quite clued into.  She could see by the expression on Xena’s face that there was something about what they were talking about that was definitely not a good thing.

“So I went and talked to the city council about it.” Hercules went on, taking another sip of the tea. “They’re closer to the mountain and I was sure they had some history about it. I figured I’d talk it through with them before having that conversation here.”

“How’d that go?” Xena was watching his face. “They didn’t believe you?”

A soft knock came at the door. “C’mon in.” Gabrielle called out.

The faint pearl light of morning was starting to gild the shutters and mix with the oil lamps, and it reflected off Iolaus’ pale hair as he poked his head inside. “Ah, I thought you would be here.” He came inside and shut the door. “Have you…”

“I’m about to drop the punch line.” Hercules told him. “You’re just in time for it.”

“Yay.”  Iolaus dropped onto the last seat in the room, as Gabrielle poured a cup of tea for him. “Here I brought some breakfast with me.” He put a wrapped bundle on the tray next to the teapot. “Fresh from the oven.”

“Okay – where was I. Right, so actually...” Hercules turned back to Xena. “They absolutely believed me. They know all about the earth shakes, and there’s stories about other smoking mountains that have went on fire and sent debris out in the past, and they know there’s been more smoke lately.” He produced a thin-lipped smile. “But they said they assumed I was going to fix it.” He lifted his cup. “What with being my father’s son and all, I should just stop it.”

Xena’s brows contracted immediately. “Stop what?”

“The mountain from doing anything.”

There was a moment of silence, as all four looked at each other, unsaid thoughts flying through the air like gnats.

“Yikes.” Gabrielle finally broke it. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither.” Hercules gave her a commiserating look. “I mean, I really didn’t. I thought I’d made it clear to everyone around this place that there was none of this.” He snapped his fingers. “In me. You want me to pick up your cow? Okay.” He added. “I can pick up your cow. Move your wall? Sure, I can move your wall, or lift your wagon out of a ditch.”  He spread his hands out.   “No bangs, no flashes, no lightning bolts. I’m not my father.”

“He really did tell them.” Iolaus said, gravely. “Because you know, they were asking for all kinds of.. “

“Turning rocks into wine kind of things?” Gabrielle hazarded.

“Turning girl children into boy children kind of things.” Hercules said, with a dour expression. “So I wasn’t gentle about the message if you catch my drift.”

“Yikes.” Gabrielle repeated her previous commentary.

“So what makes them think…” Xena began to ask, hesitantly. “Why would they assume that?”

Hercules sighed and extended his booted feet. “That’s a little more complicated.”

“Okay, wait.” Gabrielle got up. “This is going to take more than tea.”  She went to her bags and started to rummage in them. “Let me break out one of your presents early.”

**

Hercules swirled the wine in his cup. “Good pick, Gabrielle.” He complimented her. “That’s not from by you is it? I thought it was ale country.”

“No came from Costas.” Xena remarked. “None of that being produced around us, most of the product is port and it comes from the coast.”

“Yeah, from a wine merchant in Costas that we shopped at before we had to commandeer a cargo ship and escape mercantile pirates from the town.” Gabrielle sat down. “Now you were saying?”

Hercules stared at her for a moment. “Have you heard that story already?” He asked Iolaus, who nodded briskly. “Sounds like you had a fun time getting here.”

“Wait till you hear about the sea serpent.” Iolaus countered drolly. “Never a dull moment with these two.” He raised his wine cup towards Xena, who smiled and lifted her cup in return.

“Merchant came with us, he’s staying at the inn down the hill.” Xena said. “Has some stock with him unless he’s already sold it all.”

“You make a lot of merchanter friends.” Iolaus said, sidetracked and intrigued. “Had some kind of mix up down at that inn last night and the crafters down there all were talking you two up.”

“We buy things.” Gabrielle told him. “And I told some stories.” She looked over at Hercules. “They were asking me for stories about Olympus, matter of fact, and to your point about the city.”

Hercules looked at Iolaus again, who spread his hands out.  “You asked me not to.” Iolaus said. “Pal, I do what you ask. But you never told me not to ask Gabrielle to, if she showed up.”

“Always a loophole.” Hercules sighed.

“Yeah it was an interesting night there.  We heard there was some one attacked or something?” Gabrielle took this side track. “It wasn’t the guy who was going after one of the inn workers was it?”

Hercules looked at Iolaus in some puzzlement. “What did I miss?”

Iolaus settled back in his seat and exhaled. “No… well, I don’t think so. It was one of the leather crafters, here for the market today.  He was up at the inn and apparently went out to check his wagon and was knifed in the back.” He related. “Kind of odd – he hadn’t been fighting and just had a cup of ale. No one’s really sure what happened there. He and his brother had just shown up late tonight.”

Gabrielle regarded him, tilting her head slightly to one side. “Tall young guy with blond hair?” She asked, watching his face. “Had a striped travel blanket crosswise around his neck and tied?”

Iolaus blinked. “Let me ask the guard captain. I didn’t see the body. Why? He look odd to you or something?”

Gabrielle’s brows furrowed a bit. “It was just the reaction they had to the story I was telling. You know one of the advantages to being the storyteller is you get to see the expressions of everyone listening.  I think those two thought what I was telling wasn’t.. “She paused. “Truthful.”

“Was that the story about Olympus?”

Gabrielle nodded. “The second one I told. The first one was about our voyage here.” She smiled. “It included the sea serpent and Xena cutting it’s head off and its hard to disbelieve something when the protagonist is in the room.”

“Second one was about the Titans.” Xena said, in a musing tone.

“Interesting.” Hercules murmured. “Okay well maybe that all fits in.” He swirled his cup again. “We’re pretty far out here, away from the core of where people are invested in Olympus.” He said, straightforwardly. “One of the reasons we decided to stop and hang around for a while.”

“Ah.” Xena grunted softly.

“There’s a mix of beliefs.” He went on. “Some of the usual cults, some new stuff coming from the east, and a core of the old beliefs in the people who’ve been here for a while who came from near Olympus.  Here in town, it’s mostly that. They’ve been on the coast, they’re old fashioned.”

Gabrielle nodded. “I felt that last night.” She said. “They asked me for a traditional tale, the innkeeper did. But her assistant, a younger gal, didn’t buy into it.” She hiked one knee up and rested her elbow on it. “So we talked to a few others that were there and they said it was a trend.”

“Isn’t it great, Herc? Xena and Gabrielle are here for one night and they find out everything its taken us a month to drag out of people.” Iolaus commented. “You think people just like to talk to pretty women more than us?”

Hercules gave him a slightly exasperated look, then, unexpectedly he smiled. “Yeah, maybe.” He admitted, with a faint chuckle.

“I think they warmed up to us after we had a run in with some patrician from the city.” Xena said. “He was trying to muscle one of the glass blowers.”  She saw them look at each other and then at her. “Don’t worry. I didn’t break anything. I just threatened to beat up his guards.”

“Not Pegolas?” Iolaus leaned forward.  “Has to be he’s the only one who walks around with guards.”

Gabrielle nodded. “That was his name.”

Hercules exhaled. “That explains the mood he was in last night when I saw him.  He was badgering a few of the councilmen about raising taxes on crafts.”  He shook his head. “He’s not the sharpest arrow in the quiver. He’s marrying a lady named Celestina today.” He added thoughtfully.  “She’s the daughter of the high priest of one of the new cults of Ilumos I was talking about earlier.”

“Isn’t that just another name, though, for Helios?” Gabrielle asked. “You said they worshipped what they called the sun god.”

“God of light.” Hercules corrected her. “But essentially, yeah its worship of the sun. It was started up by a bunch of travelers from the west about ten seasons past, they tell me. Started small, but now they’ve got several big temples set up.”

“They say it’s not Helios.” Iolaus chimed in. “They claim it’s different, a god that gives and withholds sunlight based on.. what was it?” He looked at Hercules. “Soul credits?” He hazarded. “Something like each act of dedication given to the temple gets you a sunbeam or something like that.”

Hercules eyed him with a wry smile. “Something like that. It’s grown popular and getting more so especially now that we’re going into winter and it’s getting colder. It doesn’t take much to make people imagine it never getting warmer again, and the crops failing.”

“And their high priest is marrying his kid to some big shot patrician?” Gabrielle took a sip of her wine. “I can see where this is going.”

Hercules lifted his hands in acknowledgement. “Yeah, the city council isn’t that fond of them. Mostly old timers in charge in the city but that group’s influence is definitely growing. There’s a handful of other cults in the shadows as well, much smaller ones, but there’ve been some squabbles.”

“That why they want you to go put a cork in the mountain?”  Xena asked. “The council? Goose up the reputation?”

Hercules looked at her. “Probably. Partly.” He said. “But I really think it’s just a lot easier to ask someone to make your problem go away then think about evacuating your city.” He drained his cup. “Especially if no one can really say what’s going to happen or when.”

“No one can say… what do you think that mountain is going to do?” Gabrielle asked. “Light on fire? That city isn’t that close to it are they?”

“Great question.” Iolaus said. “I’ve asked that a few times myself.”  He gave Hercules a sideways glance. “But the only record they have of anything in these parts is smoke coming out of the top, and ground shakes so for them it’s just more of the same.”

For a long moment there was silence.  Then Hercules cleared his throat a little and shrugged, and then looked at Xena. “They settled here due to the weather and the fertile soil. Way back when.”

She nodded. “They never thought about where that came from.”  She said. “The soil, that black sand… those building rocks… It comes from there.. it comes out of there.” She corrected herself. “It’s not just smoke that comes out of the top of them. Debris comes out of there. Fire comes out of there. Those glass bubbles we saw here are found where the fire inside touches water.”

Gabrielle stared at her. “You’ve seen that happen?”

“No.” Xena said, shaking her head. “I’ve seen the aftermath. When things had started growing again, but you could still see what happened.”

“So that’s why they find all of that around here.” Iolaus said, softly.  

Hercules nodded. “At some time in the past, fire came out of that mountain and came down to the sea.” He got up and went over to the table, pouring himself another cup of the wine. “A long, long time ago.” He turned and leaned against the table.  “Long out of the memory of men. Or women.” He added, with a nod at them.

“Okay.” Gabrielle finally spoke up.  “But if it happened that long ago, Hercules, what makes you think it’s going to happen again now? Is it a regular timing thing?”

“Yeah that’s what I said. The people here, even the oldsters say that mountain’s been smoking a long time, long as they can remember.” Iolaus objected.  “So why now?”

“No, I’m really not sure its now or even when.” Hercules admitted. “That’s why I went to Olympus and asked, because I was sure someone saw it happen the last time, or knew about what made it happen and I wanted to know.” He said. “But they didn’t. This area is not…”

“Of interest?” Xena guessed.

He grimaced a little and hunched one shoulder. “Not exactly. It’s a boundary.” He said, briefly.  “Zeus’s realm is a certain size and space. Beyond that they don’t get involved. In general.” He seemed a little uneasy. “I’m not really that clear about it, and they weren’t interested in clueing me in.”

“It’s not their patch.” Gabrielle said dryly. “To coin a phrase. But there apparently are plenty of people here who believe in them.”

“And other gods.” Hercules reminded her. “Anyway, it wasn’t really something they were into. They left it to whoever it was that had influence in this area. Except now they’re getting involved, because, as you noted, there are people here who worship them and its getting a little interesting.”

“Probably with our help.” Xena let her head rest back against the padded back of the chair. “We’ve been talking them up all the way from the Ionian Plateau.”

“That’s ironic.”

“Isn’t it?” Gabrielle exhaled. “But if it’s interesting to them..” She mused. “Would they stop the mountain?” She looked at Hercules who looked back at her with a very noncommittal expression. “Depends on what they thought was in it for them. I guess.” She made a little face. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Hercules’s pale eyes twinkled a little. “Well, let’s put that all aside for another day, huh? We gotta get this party going. I can hear the market starting up outside.” He changed the subject with stolid determination. “And I think I gotta go judge something somewhere.”

“Best breakfast cake’s up first.”  Iolaus hastily got up and headed for the door. “On it!”  He gave them a brief over the shoulder wave. “We can pick this all up again after dinner. It’s not going anywhere right now.”

Xena and Gabrielle also stood. “Hopefully not for a long time.”  Xena gestured after him, as she went over and picked up her sword in its sheath, sliding it into the catches that held it against her back. “Need some help judging? We had trail bars for breakfast.”

“Sure, you can cut the cakes in quarters with that.” Hercules set the cup down and led the way to the door. “That should get the morning started right.”  He paused to let them pass ahead of him, as Gabrielle detoured briefly to pick up her staff. “Hey by the way, I am really glad you both made it here. “

Xena smiled as she paused in the doorway, face to face with him. “Even if we’re troublemakers?” She asked. “Cause we are, y’know.” She waited for Gabrielle to come to her side and then casually rested her wrist on Gabrielle’s shoulder. “We don’t even have to try.”

“We don’t.” Gabrielle confirmed, with a wry smile.

Hercules returned the smile. “Even if.” He said, then paused, biting his lip a little before continuing. “It’s just nice to have people here I don’t have to either pretend with or explain to.” He said, in a surprisingly straightforward way. “You get what I mean?” He met Xena’s eyes.

She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“There’s something to be said for shared experiences.” Gabrielle acknowledged. “And history.” She bumped Xena’s hip and herded them both forward out the door. “And something to be said for shopping and markets and parties. Lets go.”

“Lets go.” Hercules followed them out, exhaling and squaring his shoulders. “Happy birthday to me.”

**

Continued in Part 10