A SINGLE STEP

By Kennedy Northcutt ©2015

sgkctl1985@yahoo.com

For disclaimers and stuff, see Part 1

Part 10



Chapter 13


She was falling. Air rushed around her. She could feel herself plunging down, down, down into the dark abyss of nothingness.

And then she landed with a hard thud that knocked the wind from her lungs. Her eyes shot open as she gasped for air and sat bolt upright.

“Gabrielle?” A brief pause. “Gabrielle!!!”

Virgil took her face in his hands. He was right there. An astonished expression on his face. And then a smile split his features.

“V—Virgil?” She gasped. The world slowly came back into focus and her breathing slowed. Her head felt like it was splitting. “Wha—?”

“Hey, easy,” he held her to steady her. “Here. Let me help.” He eased her back against a fallen log and tucked a fur around her shoulders.

Gabrielle looked around. They were in a clearing with a small campfire. Their horses were penned a short distance away. It looked like they had been there for a while.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Virgil brought a cup to her lips and Gabrielle sipped the cool water. “I really thought you were dead.”

“Dead?” Gabrielle squinted at him. Her head still throbbed. “What happened?”

“Don’t you remember?” He motioned toward a carcass near the fire. It had been picked clean. “I’m pretty sure you killed that boar, Gab. It was huge. I have no idea how you did it. But I found you next to it. You were pretty bloody, so I thought maybe it had gored you with its tusks. But I think you just hit your head and passed out. You were out for a long time, though. Then you had a fever and…” He swallowed. “Your body started to convulse last night and then you went really still. That’s when I thought you were dead.” He smiled. “But you’re not dead.”

“No,” she held her head. “But I have a headache that could fell an elephant.”

“What’s an elephant?”

“A really big pac…Never mind.” She looked around again. “How long have we been here?”

“Two days,” he sat back. “I made a broth out of some of the boar’s meat. Would you like some?”

“Yes,” she rubbed her stomach. “I’m starving.”

He smiled and then went to the fire to pour some broth into a bowl. “I roasted some of the meat and was able to dry a good portion of it while you were out. We’ll have jerky for the road, once you’re strong enough to travel.”

Gabrielle took stock of her body. Other than the headache, which was slowly receding as she sipped more water, she felt fine. She must have hit her head, like Virgil said.

But what about…?

“Was I here the entire time?” She asked absently as he handed the bowl of broth to her.

“Yes, why?” He frowned as he studied her.

She spooned some of the broth into her mouth and savored it. “This is really good, Virgil. You haven’t lost your touch, that’s for sure.”

He beamed. “I found some wild mushrooms and onions near the stream, as well as some other herbs. Glad you like it.”

“It’s really good. Very filling, too,” she ditched the spoon and drank the rest of the broth down. “I had some really weird dreams while I was out. Did I say anything?”

“You mumbled a lot before the fever set in,” he went about cleaning up. “Nothing intelligible, though.” He then stopped and looked at her. “You did say Xena’s name a few times. I thought maybe…” he shrugged.

“You thought she came to escort me to the afterlife.” She stated flatly. “She didn’t.”

“Oh,” he resumed his activities. “We should probably sleep here tonight and then get moving in the morning. Eve and Aryana are probably already in Aryndahl by now.”

“Maybe we should get moving, then,” Gabrielle threw off the fur and managed to get to her feet. Then she realized her mistake as Virgil turned and his eyes widened. “I’m not wearing any clothes, am I?”

His eyes slammed shut as a blush suffused his features. “Uh…”

She looked down. “Where are my clothes, Virgil?”

“I…uh…” he stammered and then pointed with one hand as he slapped the other over his closed eyes. “They…they were…uh…I had to wash them, so…”

“I’m old enough to be your mother, Virgil,” Gabrielle snorted, as she walked over to the bush that her clothing was draped over and quickly dressed. “You can look now. I’m dressed.” She sat down to put her boots on.

“You…you don’t look anything like my m-mother,” he stammered as he continued packing up their belongings without glancing in her direction. “You look a lot younger than she did before she died. A lot younger.”

“That’s what happens when you cross paths one too many times with the God of War. Twenty five years in an ice cave keeps you very well preserved.”

“Twenty five years? Is that how long you and Xena were gone?” He shivered unconsciously. “Can’t believe you came out of that unscathed.”

“For the most part,” Gabrielle winced slightly. “I think my age is finally catching up with me. These old bones aren’t quite what they used to be. Takes me a while longer to recuperate these days.”

“Maybe we should stay the night, then,” he paused to watch her. “You did almost just die, Gabrielle.”

“Been there, done that,” she kept right on packing. “Besides, moving around works the kinks out. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, Virgil.”

He watched her for another moment, then resumed his own packing. He saddled the horses and secured their packs, while Gabrielle finished wiping away any trace of their presence there. She especially made sure to scatter the remains of their campfire, just in case their Roman pursuers were still stubborn enough to keep looking for them. Gabrielle was under no illusions that the commander from Athens would give up so easily and just let them go. Most Roman soldiers she knew had vast memories and were stubborn as mules.

Gabrielle and Virgil finally mounted their horses and set out in the general direction of Aryndahl. They were careful to stay off the main road, while keeping it in sight. They avoided farms and towns along the way, managing to skirt around them without being detected. The going was slow and they rarely spoke so as not to draw attention.

***

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.”

“Yes, it is.”

Eve stopped in the middle of the road as several people walked past her. Hands on hips, she glared at Aryana. “No, it isn’t. I’m the Messenger of Peace, not the harbinger of death. I will not have you wearing that ridiculous armor while we travel. It’s bad enough you won’t give up the sword. Do you have to wear the armor and look like a warrior to everyone who passes by? It’s embarrassing.”

“The sword has saved my life more than once. I am not giving up my sword or my armor. Get used to it.”

“You’re my daughter…”

“I’m a member of the Queen’s Guard, escorting you to Aryndahl. I’m on official business now that we’re on dry land again.”

Eve rolled her eyes. “I don’t need an armed escort, Aryana.”

“You didn’t mind the sword when we were on the boat.”

“Ship.”

“Whatever.”

“The captain sent us to shore in a boat. We sailed from Athens on a ship.”

“And I am wearing my armor and sword like the warrior that I am. They as much a part of me as your message of love and peace is to you.”

“You’re my daughter—daughter of the Messenger of Peace.”

“Granddaughter of Xena, Warrior Princess.”

“She’s dead,” Eve said flatly as she started walking again.

“At least she died a warrior’s death,” Aryana said as she caught back up and walked next to Eve. “I can only hope to follow in her footsteps one day.”

“Do not say that.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what warriors do? Die in battle like a true hero? It takes great courage to face an entire army by yourself. That’s what the bards say happened to Xena, right? People know the stories because she died a hero’s death.”

Eve stopped dead again. “The bard. One bard. Her name is Gabrielle. She is the one who was there. And she also said Mother’s death could have been avoided. Mother chose to die needlessly. Is that what you want?”

“Whatever.” Aryana pulled her sword from the scabbard at her back and twirled it. “She died a hero’s death and so will I. I swore an oath to protect my queen with my very life and that’s exactly what I’m doing. You just happen to be along for the ride.”

Eve considered answering and continuing the argument, then thought better of it.

“Tell me about your queen,” Eve said in an effort to change the subject.

“Queen Shari?”

“No, Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt,” Eve deadpanned, earning a confused look from Aryana. “Of course I mean Queen Shari.”

“Well,” Aryana resheathed her sword and looked thoughtful. “She’s the most beautiful woman…”

“Describe her to me, so I can paint a picture of her in my mind.”

“Okay, um,” Aryana tried to think of the right words. “She’s really smart, has gold flecks in her brown eyes and smiles like the sun.”

“Tall or short?”

“A little shorter than me and taller than you.”

“Dark hair or light?”

“Dark, like the midnight sky.” She considered thoughtfully as her expression turned wistful. “When the sun hits it, it turns slightly purple—deep purple. And it is very soft to the touch.”

“Sense of humor?”

Aryana shook herself out of her reverie. “She likes to laugh, especially at me.”

“Anything else I should know?”

Aryana considered her answer. “She can wield a sword as well as any warrior, but isn’t big on fighting. She prefers finely-woven clothing over leather and armor. She has a temper that she keeps in check, for the most part. And she loves horses. Really loves them. The stables are full of brood mares, geldings and a few choice studs. She is very hands-on when it comes to choosing which mare gets bred to which stallion. She has even negotiated with other owners to have her mares bred to their studs in order to expand her stock. Spring is a very interesting time in the fields near the castle. There are foals everywhere. And Shari beams like a proud mother as she watches them. When not in the stables, the stable master is always with Shari so they can talk about the horses. You might say she’s a bit obsessed.”

“You might say you’re a bit obsessed, too,” Eve gave Aryana a knowing look. “I look forward to meeting her.”

Aryana looked away with a blush. “I…she…” She shook her head. “I’m not the right suitor for her, so…” She shrugged.

“Why do you say that?”

Aryana shook her head slightly. “I’m just a farmer’s daughter. I’m not royalty. The laws of Aryndahl say Shari must marry someone with a royal pedigree who can give her an heir.” She looked down at herself with a wry smirk. “I’m not exactly equipped to father a child, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Neither was Xena,” Eve added with a wry grin. “Yet, here I am.”

Aryana frowned. “Yeah, about that.”

“You’ll have to ask the bard about that,” Eve said. “I wasn’t there at my own conception. I have no clue who my father is or was. Mother never said and I never had the chance to ask.”

“Gabrielle.”

“Yep,” Eve nodded. “She’s the bard.”

Aryana was skeptical. “The same Gabrielle who doesn’t say much? Who hid away from the world in that weird hospice for years?” She shook her head. “She traveled with the great Xena? And is a bard?”

“She and my mother were…” Eve looked thoughtful. “They are soulmates. They loved each other. Deeply.”

“As in…”

“Yes, they were lovers, Aryana,” Eve said. “Their hearts belonged to each other. In a sense, Gabrielle died when my mother did. It took her a really long time to return to Greece. Years, in fact. And when she finally did, she just wasn’t the same. That’s why she built the hospice and became a recluse of sorts. In a way, I think she blames Mother for abandoning her and has never quite gotten over it.”

“Yeah,” Aryana nodded her understanding. “I could tell when we were traveling together. She would mention Xena and get this look in her eye that would suddenly turn sour. It was weird.”

Eve chuckled. “Yes, Gabrielle was always the stronger person in their relationship. If the tables had turned, I think Mother would have just gone off somewhere and died.” She looked wistful. “I guess it was probably for the best that Mother died first.”

“That’s messed up.”

Eve shrugged. “That’s life.”

Aryana looked around at the people around them. “Maybe it’s for the best that Shari and I will never be together. I can live the warrior life and she can be the ruler she was meant to be. We’ll never have to worry about attachments. I can go my way and she hers.”

Eve sighed. “If only life were that simple, Arayana. The heart wants what it wants. And it rarely gives us a choice in the matter. Love isn’t something that you can snuff out like a candle. If anything, it just grows stronger with each passing day.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just need to finish what I started and do something else with my life, then.” She looked at Eve. “What would you say if I were to offer my services as your protector on the road?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “As much as I would love to have my daughter with me as I travel,” she linked arms with Arayan. “I would still prefer you lose the armor and sword. I’ve gotten along just fine for all these years without an armed escort. But thank you for the offer.”

“Suit yourself. I might just strike out on my own, then. Become a sword for hire. I’m sure there are caravans and such that would appreciate my skills.”

“Live the life of a mercenary? I don’t think so. It really doesn’t suit you, Aryana.”

“It suited Xena just fine.”

“Mother was a whole different story—a lot of back story there, actually.” Eve let go of Aryana’s arm. “Before she met Gabrielle her life had spiraled out of control to the point that she was ready to give up and die. Meeting Gabrielle actually set her on her path to redemption.”

“Yeah, look where that got her,” Aryana rolled her eyes. “She died anyway.”

“Not before living through some amazing adventures.”

“Like the Twilight of the Gods?”

Eve’s expression faltered. “Yes.” She then schooled her features. “Just remember that you are here because of her, Aryana. Neither of us would be here if it weren’t for all that Mother did to try to make up for the years before Gabrielle.”

“So, Gabrielle is actually responsible for Xena’s path to redemption?”

“Exactly.”

Aryana considered this. “So, in a sense, Gabrielle is your father and my grandfather.”

A smile played at the corners of Eve’s mouth. “Yes, in a sense, I guess you could say that.”

“Huh.”

“Huh.”

They continued walking in silence after that, each lost in their own musings. Aryana had a lot more information to digest about her birth family, while Eve tried to come to terms with her relationship with her mother and Gabrielle. It was a turning point for both of them.

***

Continued in Part 11

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