This is an interactive story. There are 107 XWP episode titles embedded in the text. See if you can find them all as you read. The usual disclaimers apply. I don't own these characters. I just borrow them to entertain you.


Horse Sense




The meadow was lush with new grass and patches of sweet clover. There had been weeks of steady rain since the ides of March. The storms, having passed at last, the fragrance of spring filled the air. I pranced about the large, rolling meadow sampling the succulents all around and taking in the honeyed scent of wild flowers. I held a cradle of hope that we would make camp here for the many days. The warrior princess had recently bested ten little warlords and was looking spent and her hapless little sidekick was in some sort of brooding mode. A good long rest would benefit us all and this meadow was paradise found. I could hear the birds chirping overhead and small animals darting about the trees. Spring had come and, detecting no scent of dangerous prey, I let myself roam freely. After all, girls just wanna have fun.

I sensed her presence as she emerged from the forest at the end of the meadow. I wanted to trot away, but the warrior princess had asked me to “be nice” no matter how irritating the little blonde could be. I understood for whom the bell tolls when the warrior makes a ‘request', so I stayed in place, listening as the bard made her way toward me, leaning on her silly staff and stepping lightly. Her ankle was apparently still sore. I turned my tail toward her, then brought my head about and stared. She patted my rump and sighed. Sighing being one of her signature utterances.

“Hello, Argo. Beautiful day isn't it?” Gabrielle leaned on her staff. “Got a minute to talk?”

I'm a horse not a telepath, I snorted. But I stood my ground politely although I preferred a vanishing act. There was a little group of buttercups that I was ready to eat. Unintentionally crushing them beneath her good foot, the blonde reached up to stroked my nose and I let her, reminding myself that mine was not the path of vengeance.

“I know it's only been a month, although, it feels like a lifetime to me.” She sighed. “Do you think she feels the same way? I really need to know, Argo. You are there. You know her best. Do you think she likes me? I mean really likes me…the way I like her.”

She moved around me as she talked, leaning on the staff. I could recognize a friend in need, only I was still ambivalent about the friend part. When it came to seeing the value of the bard, I was not as yet a convert. All I could think to do was shake my head and snort.

“Does that mean ‘no'?” Gabrielle frowned at me. “Are you sure? She's kind to me. I mean, she laughs at some of my jokes and…and she likes my cooking.” She leaned against the staff and pursed her lips. “Only she doesn't say much. Well, other than when she tells me what to do…a lot. And I try to be helpful, of course. Wouldn't want to make her angry, if you know what I mean…tall, gorgeous and deadly, right?”

I stamped my hoof, twice. It meant I wanted to leave, but she didn't understand that. She couldn't even get the whistles I respond to correct much less comprehend a more complex communication. So I shook my head again and took several steps forward. Gabrielle stepped with me, of course. I was beginning to feel like Amphipolis under siege.

“I admire her so much.” the bard continued. “At first I thought that was all there was to it. I admired her. Wanted to be her friend. Well more than that. I wanted to be like her, to learn to do the amazing things a warrior princess can do. You know she can jump like twenty feet in the air? It's beyond amazing actually. She's like one of the titans.” She looked me in the face and smiled. “I study everything she does.”

This was showing no sign of this ending any time soon. So for the greater good, I stayed and took a mouth full of crushed buttercups and chewed them slowly. It was the only distraction I could find at the moment. But I could hear that reedy little voice above my chewing and tossed my mane.

“And she encourages me. We are working on my using the staff for self-defense. It's going pretty well, if I say so myself. Only when she steps behind me and reaches around my waist to show me how to hold the staff, I…I,” She paused just as I was getting use to the drone of her voice and she started to cry. Not a sob so much as a sniffle, but she let a few tears run down her cheeks and quickly wiped them away. Taking a deep breathe she continued. “When we go for a swim I can't keep my eyes off of her. You see, Argo, I've fallen in love with her.”

I'm not a prodigal but I have my limits and that reached them. There was no putting that confession back in the bottle. I broke into a gallop and put a quarter mile between us before stopping to look back. Gabrielle was standing where I left her still wiping her eyes. I shook my mane and nibbled on a patch of morning glories as the blonde slowly walked away.

The next day proved as glorious as the previous one had been and to my great delight the warrior had decided to remain camped a while. I sauntered though the grass enjoying the smells and the taste of spring vegetation. It had been an ordinary night except for one strange occurrence. The warrior had arisen after midnight and walked through the trees for a long time. At first I assumed she'd heard something suspicious and was tracking some villain like the Black Wolf or Devi. That got my lifeblood up with anticipation of kickass battle and I waited to see the reckoning. But it turned out she was merely deep in thought. Somewhat disappointed I watched her for a while as she pondered her destiny. Eventually, I left her to her little problems and slept.

It would have been a good day for a ride over to the lake, I thought the next morning. The sun was bright and warm and I was full of vim and vigor. The same could not be said of either the warrior or the bard. They went about their routine, silent and forlorn. A trip to the lake was to be the path not taken. As the sunny, gloom filled day dragged on, I half expected the blonde to show up again, so I kept my ears up listening and prepared to behave as if I could remember nothing. Except it was not blonde who eventually sought me out.

The warrior's whistle called me as I was sunning myself rather far from the camp site. I didn't hesitate to respond, ours are the ties that bind. Eternal bonds that can only exist between a horse and her master. Or so I thought at that time. She swung up on my back, patted my head and spurred me on with her heels. We trotted to the lake where she dismounted and I assumed she would be busy fishing. She had been there, done that many times.

“Why do things have to get so confusing?” she asked, rummaging in the saddle bags. “I thought, in the beginning, she's young, she's merely curious about adventure. She'd be hinting about coming home within a week.” She untangled my main over my eyes and ran her hand down my face gently. “But I was wrong. Gabrielle has hung in there through a dirty half dozen fights and situations that stemmed from my sins of the past. Only she seems to like the chaos. She wants me to teach her things. And I don't mind that. I like it. But it is getting difficult. I mean, Argo. Have you ever really looked into those beautiful green eyes?”

I couldn't help but snort. Of course I have looked at those green eyes, but apparently I hadn't seen what the warrior sees. I saw an altared state of reality. I saw a young woman with blind faith that a bard could become a warrior yet as far from warrior-like as possible.

The actual warrior leaned her forehead against my saddle and let out a long breathe. “You know what I mean. She's a beautiful young woman. I love Gabrielle‘s hope and optimism. She sees a world I lost many years ago. And somehow she manages to bring it back to me. She's funny and nice. And she's really brave, Argo. I like that. I like…her…a lot.” She rubbed her face and stepped back about to walk away. Then why, I wondered to myself, do you look like death in chains?

I expected the warrior to head to the lake without further comment, but she lingered. Maybe it was my maternal instinct, but I sensed there was something more she wanted to say even if she wasn't sure how. Then I realized she wasn't talking to me. She was doing what I saw her doing during the night. She was wrestling with herself aloud. My presence was merely a necessary evil allowing her to muse. It was a tale of two muses actually, I knew, but neither of them understood that. I stamped my hoof twice asking if I could go exploring. But she tugged my reins and held me in place.

“I've been getting the strangest vibes from her, Argo. I can actually feel her eyes on me, warm and affectionate. Once I looked back at her, stared directly at her while she was looking at me and she didn't turn away. She had a slight smile on her face that grew into a shy grin. It made my heart pound. I wanted to… I wanted to take her in my arms. By the gods, Argo, I have no business thinking like that. I'd never be forgiven. She's innocent and inexperienced and defenseless and yet…she is so beautiful.”

If the warrior had not been holding my reins so firmly, I'd have fled her bitter suite at that point. These are not things that a dutiful, self-respecting horse needs or wants to hear. My job is to be of service to the world's most impressive warrior princess and, of late, to her less than impressive little side kick. More than that is beyond my pay grade. Not that I get paid. I stamped my hoof and pulled back on the reins. Mercifully, my mistress let me free.

I observed them on and off the whole next the day. It was just a day in the life. Finally, things were back to normal, or so I hoped. They followed a routine I was familiar with. Wake at dawn. Make a visit to the woods for a few moments. Put away the bed rolls. Then the warrior hunted food and the blonde prepared it. They mended clothes, sharpened the sword, practiced the staff and sat quietly in the sun: intimate strangers - minus the intimate, heavy on the strangers. Late in the afternoon I conveyed them to the lake for a swim – a cold swim which in my opinion they both needed. They rode together on me and laughed about some story I didn't bother to pay attention to. It might have been about the lost mariner or the bard's favorite – Antony and Cleopatra. At any rate, I failed to get the punch lines.

At the lake, they undressed and dove right in. The warrior caught several fish. The blonde finally caught one and the warrior cleaned all three fish for diner leaving the bard to her bath. I noted it as unusual when the warrior dressed hurriedly before cleaning the fish. She even donning her armor which as far as I could tell was completely unneeded. When the bard got out the lake, the warrior assumed her hyper, one against an army stance. The blonde leisurely rang water from her hair before donning her clothes. The warrior stood with her mouth open, staring at the naked bard, then walking briskly away.

They rode me back in silence as if on route to an execution. The warrior seemed stiff in the saddle as if she were leading chariots of war. The blonde slipped her arms around the warrior's waist, holding tightly, wary lest I burst into a gallop. I trotted defiantly and my mistress could not spur me to hurry. Back at their camp, the warrior, after an hour of furious exercise, sat down and pretended to study her chakram. The blonde sat down beside her and leaned her head on the warrior's shoulder. They sat that way a long time, speaking not a word, until the blonde rose up and strolled silently away. As luck would have it, she walked directly to me.

It felt like the return of the Valkyrie to me.

“I'm so lost, Argo.” she confessed, picking a handful of tall grasses to offer to me. I refused them, partly because I didn't want to encourage the conversation and partly because I've learned to beware of Greeks bearing gifts .

“Xena doesn't feel anything.” She tossed the grass aside and wiped her hands. Lyre, lyre I thought, knowing the warrior's true nature. “It's all just a stupid fantasy, a fiction in my silly head.” She sat down on an old stump. “Xena could never be in love with me.” On queue she sighed. “A bard's really just a dream worker. We bards are good at making up stories. Only now, I wish I wasn't.”

A breeze had come up in the late afternoon. It played with the blonde's bangs and made her rub her arms against the chill. I felt sorry for her, in spite of myself, she was an orphan of war, an inner war at that. She looked completely miserable. Even if I had the power of speech there was nothing for me to say. I trotted over and nuzzled her shoulder, a gesture that surprised her momentarily. She stroked my nose a few times and I could see tears beginning to gather in those green eyes. The price of unrequited love is steep, even when it is not actually unrequited. And, yes, she sighed.

I wandered off to the edge of the forest where I found the warrior in a similar funk. It seemed to even a casual observer that she'd been visited by the furies. Seated on an ancient fallen tree trunk, she looked quite dejected though mercifully not brought to tears. She had picked a handful of buttercups which she held out to me and I most gratefully took them. At least this ridiculous comedy of Eros was keeping me well fed.

“Here you go girl.” she said as I bit into them. ”It's good to see someone happy.”

She stood up and began to pace back and forth in a sort of figure eight amid the trees. Her arms alternately rising in emphasis as she spoke to herself aloud, and folding across her chest as she pondered silently. I stamped my hoof and whinny but she was otherwise engaged. I decided to linger with her. It was hardly a hardship on my part. She was my mistress and I love her. I knew the warrior's previous heart of darkness, when she had been a fallen angel. I had been with her on that past imperfect journey. More importantly, I had seen her rise from the abyss. Watching her struggle to find true happiness had formed an unbreakable bond between us. I knew she would find the key to the kingdom of inner peace eventually. I nuzzled her side and she patted my side.

“I don't know what to do.” She moaned. “I know what I want to do. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her long and hard and press her against me and…” She moaned again. “Only I am afraid if I do that - if that isn't the way she feels, she might leave. I don't want to lose her. But I have no right to her, you know. She is a beautiful and warm young woman who deserves a normal life with marriage and motherhood.” The warrior was waving her arms again. I was glad she wasn't holding a sword.

What a crock, I remember thinking at her last words. I stepped forward and pushed her in the side with my nose. All that time thinking and this is what my might warrior came up with? I was mystified and disappointed. It was horseshit. And I know horseshit. The blonde may be beautiful and even brave, if you say so my warrior, but she is not remotely interested in being a wife and mother. She wants to be warrior, even though in my opinion, she has not a cradle of hope of becoming one. Annoyed, I nudged her again, hard. She stumbled to one side and put her hands on her hips.

“What?” she snapped. “You disagree?”

I nodded unequivocally. The warrior needed to focus on different seeds of faith, I thought. Come on, my warrior, I've seen you looking death in the eye and refusing to falter. How could this misunderstanding send you to Helicon and back? I tossed my head and snorted.

“May I remind you that you are mortal, beloved old friend?” she snarked. She didn't mean it, of course. She had never treated me with anything but respect and I was not dismayed by her outburst. Nor was I intimidated. She needed someone to clear her head, help her read between the lines and see the bard for what - and by that I mean whom - she really wanted. The bard doesn't miss her home any more than you miss Amphipolis, I wanted to yell at her. Instead I turned and kicked my hind legs in the warrior's direction. Not to hit her, only to emphasis that I did indeed disagree with her conclusions. I reared up and pawed the air for punctuation.

“Okay, calm down. I'm sorry.” She grabbed my mane and stroked my nose, then swung up on my back. “I'm not myself lately. Don't mean to take it out on you. Let's go somewhere, girl. I need a place where I can figure out what to do.”

Having no idea where such a place might be, I simply trotted the ring I usually took around meadow. She rode silently, her head down and her legs moving back and forth across my torso as she tried to get comfortable. I had no saddle. It was the eve of night and a full moon had risen into a darkening cloudless sky. In the remaining light, the form of Gabrielle seated near the fire was clearly visible. She was intent on her Xena scrolls for in her mind the quill is mightier than the sword. I am of another mind. But then I cannot actually read.

It seemed the warrior saw the bard as well, because she indicated for me to go the left. I ignored her and headed right to the camp. I stopped and waited for the warrior to dismount. After a few moments she did albeit slowly. Then it was déjà vu all over again. She approached Gabrielle only to turn at the last moment and walk away. I watched with sadness as she did fifty pushups, chinned herself on a half dozen branches and practiced impossible jumps. Gabrielle didn't watch her. Instead, the bard stoked the fire and sat glumly looking into the flames. Thus began a dark and stormy night, mentally stormy anyway. No one slept much and the hours dragged silently by.

“Perhaps I should head back to Podedia,” Gabrielle strolled up and announced to me the next morning. “Or maybe I could apply at the Athens City Academy of the Performing Arts.” She sighed and I rolled my eyes. ”There is no use in torturing myself here anymore.”

If the shoe fits, I wanted to tell her. She didn't seem to mind torturing me with her troubles, or my mistress who was a complete mess over the idea of losing the bard. But I just lowered my head and nibbled at the sweet grass. She was going to talk and I was going to listen for whatever good that would do my unhappy mistress.

“I love her, Argo, with all my heart.” The little blonde confessed to me. “And I want her to love me. Only I have no idea how to make that happen. I don't even know how to tell her how I feel. I'm so afraid she might get angry and send me away. She‘s a very proud, you know.“ Takes one to know one, I thought silently. “I don't think I could withstand being sent away. If I just leave at least I'll have my dignity.” She thrust her head high and turned to leave, adding: “I hope she will forget me not.”

This simply could not be happening, I thought, jumping and kicking my hind legs in frustration. Humans are supposed to be intelligent, rational beings. They have the gift of language. They are capable of great wisdom. They rule the world - just ask them. And yet they are incapable of handling simple animal attraction? If horses acted that stupidly, there would be no horses, I asserted. Horse sense informs horse behavior. We suffer no doubt. No hoof ringing. No ‘are you sure?' equivocations. But humans behave very differently. I stepped in front of the retreating bard and looked her in the eye.

“What would you do, Argo?” The blonde asked . “If you've got some advice, I'd love to hear it.”

‘I'd shimmy my rump until she gets the idea and jumps them bones. Them bones need a good jumping.' It was the right answer, I knew, but there was no way to it to communicate to her. I waggled my rump to no avail. This time I wanted to sigh. I thought bards were supposed to be articulate. ‘Tell her how you feel!' I screamed inside my head. I got a headache and a death mask stare from the bard. stare. I lowered my head to let her stroke my mane if she wished. But she merely gave me a pat and walked away.

Late in the afternoon I came upon the warrior returning from a rabbit hunt. Her head was down and her shoulders slumped, a posture I hadn't seen since the little blonde had come into her life. Whatever the debt the warrior needed to repay had been made lighter by the presence of the bard. I saw at that moment that this was actually a family affair and I had a necessary role to play. I was in soul possession of the truth neither woman would express to the other. So I decided to do what I could to expose their hearts on fire.

“Hello girl.” The warrior put a pair of ducks in the saddle bag and began to lead me toward the campsite. “Got any words of wisdom for me? I'm going to lose her, Argo. She said she's ready to go home to tomorrow.” And finally, the tears she had held back began to flow. The situation was now desperate. It was time to pray to the god, you know. Fortunately traveling with the warrior for years meant I knew a few gods. I emptied my mind and waited for inspiration. It came in the form of a simple albeit clever idea. I stopped and nodded toward a patch of lilies beside a small pond. The warrior got my meaning and went over to pick them. She turned and offered them to me, but I didn't take them from her. I don't eat lilies, which she would have remembered if she had been herself.

“I thought you wanted these.” she said about to toss them to the ground. I put my nose beneath her hand and prevented her from dropping them. “Okay, okay. I'll keep them for later.” We proceeded to the campsite where Gabrielle rose to greet us. Seeing the lilies, she smiled and took them from the warrior, saying “They're beautiful, Xena. Thank you.” She leaned toward the warrior to give her a hug.

“They're for…” The warrior started to explain, but I shoved her in the ribs before she could finish.

The warrior gave me a subtle shove back and a giant killer look. She gathered the ducks from the saddle bag and sat down to clean them without saying another word to the blonde who cocked her head to one side confused. It was a moment that might have worked. It indisputably should have worked. But I will never understand the human species. My courageous warrior has many skills. I have seen her lead armies, battle warlords, dispatch thugs without breaking a sweat. Yet when presented with the option of accepting love, she wilts like a god fearing child. If I‘d had the ability to hit her in the gut with a staff, I would have. But I didn't and Gabrielle didn't come up with any ideas either.

I was the one who paced a good deal that night. The situation was not acceptable. The irritating little blonde needed to admit her feelings. And the once courageous warrior needed to kiss the girl. There needed to be an intervention. Maybe a good old fashion thug thumping would get their juices flowing. Only there was no indication that any thugs were lurking nearby. Maybe I could make the blonde stumble and twist her ankle again. At least the warrior would have to touch her then. Only that might not work, the ankle thing was getting old and the warrior needed yo grasp the situation, not just touch it/her. Then it came to me like a spell from Aphrodite. Perhaps it was simply my innate horse sense. But more likely it was actually an inspiration from the goddess of love. Whatever, it was a terrific plan. I liked the simple purity of it.

Before dawn, summoning deep dedication to my purpose, I searched until I found the plant I was looking for. It was ugly but I took a mouthful. I had to eat enough to ensure the effect I needed. Then I returned to the campsite with my gut churning. I lay down feeling a bit sicker than I had anticipated. But even in sickness and in hell, I was committed to the plan. I was bloated by the time the warrior rose just after first light. She rushed to my side shouting for the blonde to wake and join her.

“What is it, girl?” she asked stroking my side. “What did you do?” There was a touch of panic in her voice as she examined me.

“Gabrielle, get me the saddle bag and skin of water. I'll need lots of water.”

The order was instantly obeyed. I was the center of frantic activity and a hurried discussion of possible ailments and unpleasant cures. To my horror, the warrior chose the most drastic one. While the blonde chewed her nails, the warrior stuck her arm up my arse and filled me with some foul smelling concoction. I snorted my disapproval, not that she was dissuaded. Is there a doctor in the house , I wanted to shout. Then they sat beside me and waited. They didn't hug each other, they didn't even hold hands. They barely spoke. Apparently being focused on my impending death was not the kind of event that would bring them together. I realized the plan might have been a touch too extreme and contemplated how hard I would kick the goddess of love the next time I saw her. Assuming I lived which, of course, I did.

When it was over, there was a tsunami of horseshit to avoid and an unpleasant ache in my gut. However, there was no change in either the bard or the warrior who studious avoided each other. The two women, now certifiably mute, busied themselves with breaking camp. I had failed. Fearing they were actually going to go separate ways, I paced in search of a better plan to get them together. I couldn't let the blonde break my warrior's heart. And I couldn't let the warrior miss a chance at the love she deserved. They had to face their fears. Distracted, I caught my hoof on a large stone and I stumbled hard to my knee It hurt for a moment, but no real harm had been done. Realizing the potential, however, I decided to milk the opportunity. It was a con of sorts, not a king con although I hoped the results would validate my trickery. Otherwise, I was going to owe a debt, too.

“Xena, I think Argo is limping.” Gabrielle broke their silence. The warrior studied me for a moment with those keen blue eyes and agreed.

“What is going on with you?” she asked, gently pulling on my ear. She felt my forelegs and lifted my hooves to inspect the shoes. “Need some new ones, I see.” She patted my shoulder then turned to the blonde. “We need to get her to a stable in the village. I don't think she's lame, but I want to find out what is going on.”

“All right, I'm ready. Let's hurry.” Gabrielle shoulder two bundles and followed the warrior's lead. She placed a hand on the warrior's back. “She'll be okay, Xena. You love her too much to let anything happen to her.”

The warrior looked worried. “I hope you are right.” She gave the blonde a quick touch on the arm.

“I know that much about you, Xena.” The bard smiled. “You always save the day when fates collide.”

I perked up my ears and gave a happy little whinny. Progress, at long last. I would have hummed a Solstice carol, if I had the ability to hum. It was a long, slow walk to the nearest village. I played up the limp whenever the pair fell silent. Sometimes the play is the thing and I felt the tension lessen as we walked along. They were finally communicating. The warrior spoke less than the blonde, but she often took the young woman's hand and once even drew her close. The bard smiled and returned every gesture of affection. The sun was warm and appeared to bath them in a soft, golden glow. I was pleased with the results of my little accident and the deceit with which I enhanced it. And I was relieved that I didn't need to tempt death again to get them closer.

Once we reached the village, the warrior gave me a thorough examination. Satisfied that nothing was seriously wrong, she gave the blacksmith a fist full of dinars and ordered him to make a new set of shoes for me. Since it was late in the evening, she and the blonde secured a room for the night at the small inn above the bar across the street. I watched them enter the dingy little establishment at sunset and willed them to drink as much wine as they could hold and prayed for nature to take its course. After a few hours, I saw a candle come to light in the upstairs room and two figures, one tall and one short enfold each other. They were dark silouettes with the candlelight behind them, yet I could see every movement. The warrior held the bard tight against her and stroked her hair. The bard pulled back slightly and raised her hands to the warrior's face. I didn't even have time to get my hopes up before I saw them kiss. It was the long, loving kiss that the warrior had spoken of so wistfully. Then the armor came off and the bard removed whatever that silly green thing was that she wore on her chest. The warrior's hands cupped the bard's breast and she shivered. They kissed again, removed their remaining garments and let their hands trace each other's curves. The warrior picked up the bard and carried her across the room. She laid her on a bed and positioned her lanky frame above her. I watched the bard's arms wrap about the warrior's neck and slowly draw her down. They kissed, an eager, hungry kiss. Then just as it was getting interesting and I was breaking out in a sweat a waft of wind blew the candle out.

I got my new shoes in the morning. High stepping to show them off, I shook my head and pranced around the stable like the last of the centaurs. There was really no one to admire them. The stable had just one other horse and only a pair of saloon girls walked by that morning. Hooves and harlots don't mix. So I admire my new shoes myself and waited for my warrior and her bard.

They did not emerge from their room until noon. When they did, their eyes shined brightly and their faces radiated joy. The warrior kept her arm around the blonde's shoulders. The bard kept her arm about the warrior's waist. They looked like a royal couple of thieves who had just stolen all of the world's happiness. My new shoes got a cursory inspection as the two now obvious lovers were completely absorbed with each other. I was beyond relieved. Loving the warrior myself as I did, I felt a sense of pride that she had found the horse sense necessary to be happy. I was even inclined to truly like the little blonde from that day forward. While there were to be epic battles to come in their future together, I knew they had conquered their greatest adversary – themselves. With my brilliant help, of course.

I expected to be saddled and to ride off into the sunset with the love birds. Instead they turned on their heels and went back to the shabby inn. They stayed there without a thought of me for the next three days. I've heard it said: be careful what you wish for. My reward for wishing my warrior and her bard would get together was three days of being locked up and tied down. Couldn't they at least have taken me back to that scrumptious meadow? I was after all the deliverer, the one who brought them together. They could have played beside the lake. The warrior liked to fish and the bard could compose some literary gems. We could have a pleasant afternoon of fins, femmes and gems. But,it was not to be.

The blacksmith led me to the corral where a pretty little filly shook her mane at me. I gave her a friendly nod and she pranced toward me. Um, I nuzzled her shoulder and, taking a quick glance at the window of a certain room at the inn, I thought ‘when in Rome…'

Humans consider the legacy of the amazing warrior princess and her loyal sidekick to be about the quest for redemption or setting wrongs to right. But I know why their legend came to be, how they found the source of their heroism within each other. I know that beyond the heroics and the swashbuckling and the sacrifice, too, XWP is a love story plain and simple. A love story in which I, Argo, played a very important role.

Titles in Order of Inclusion:

Ides of March Chakram When Fated Collide

Cradle of Hope Return of the Valkyrie Solstice Carol

Ten Little Warlords Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts The Play is the Thing

Paradise Found Lyre, Lyre A Fistful of Dinars

Dangerous Prey Dream Worker Last of the Centaurs

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun An Orphan of War Hooves and Harlots

For Whom the Bell Tolls The Price A Royal Couple of Thieves

Vanishing Act The Furies Locked Up and Tied Down

The Path of Vengeance Comedy of Eros Deliverer

You are There Heart of Darkness Fins, Femmes and Gems

A Friend in Need Fallen Angel When in Rome

Convert Past Imperfect Legacy

Amphipolis Under Siege The Abyss Quest

The Titan Eternal Bonds Sacrifice II

The Greater Good The Key to the Kingdom

Prodigal The Way

Back in the Bottle Motherhood

The Black Wolf Seeds of Faith

Devi Looking Death in the Eye

Lifeblood Helicon and Back

The Reckoning Mortal Beloved

Destiny Between the Lines

Little Problems Miss Amphipolis

A Good Day The Ring

The Path not Taken Eve

Remember Nothing Xena Scrolls

The Ties That Bind The Quill is Mightier

Eternal Bonds Déjà vu all over Again

Been There, Done That Athens City Academy

Sins of the Past If the Shoe Fits

Altared States Takes One to Know One

Blind Faith Forget Me Not

Gabrielle's Hope Animal Attraction

Death in Chains Them Bones, Them Bones

Maternal Instinct The Debt

A Necessary Evil Soul Possession

A Tale of Two Muses Hearts of Fire

Forgiven The God You Know

Bitter Suite Giant Killer

A Day in the Life A God Fearing Child

The Lost Mariner Purity

Antony and Cleopatra In Sickness and in Hell

Punch Lines Is There a Doctor in the House

One Against an Army Tsunami

Execution King Con

Chariots of War Debt II


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