Christo walked slowly back to the barracks. It had been a tough morning. ‘These damned new recruits,’ he thought morosely, fingering another vacant lot in the back of his mouth. He stopped to pop his shoulder back into place and then walked over to the cistern. Dragging up the bucket, he closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and then emptied the contents over himself.

"By the gods, that’s fucking cold! Bloody stuff’s only good for drinkin’."

Andros watched as the Lieutenant shook himself like a furry dog, the blood and grime sluicing down to puddle at his feet.

"Ahem!"

The swarthy hunk of a man cleared his eyes with one hand as the other went to the hilt of his dagger.

"It’s only me, Christo."

"Ah, Andros my friend." He reached out a grimy hand, which was taken after a moment’s hesitation.

"Time for your yearly bathing?"

The instructor shook his head vigorously, spraying the other Lieutenant in the process, and then stripped off his sodden shirt.

"Bah, I think this cleaning ritual is very bad for you. How can scraping off all that good fine protection and having to start all over again be good for you?"

Andros scratched his fingers through his short beard. He’d certainly wondered about that himself but had to admit that since the Conqueror had forced her men to bath more often, the occurrence of illness had dropped almost 90%.

"It takes bloody weeks to get a fine layer of gunk back on ya to keep the fleas ‘n ticks ‘n creepy crawlies off ya."

The taller man grinned in sympathy. If it wasn’t the Deer Flies it was the Black Flies. "Well, think of it this way, at least people won’t have you scented a good half mile before you arrive in the area. Though you might have them running for the hills as they take you for a complete stranger. You might even persuade some nice maiden to marry you, Christo. After you scrape a few inches of mud off of you. Have you been bathing in the stuff, man?"

"Bah, I’ve no time to play silly bugger with the women or the bleedin’ water. I’ve been up to me brisket going through drills with Polis. A friendly disagreement as to who was best prepared to defend Lord Xena came up. Before too long, the practice field had been reduced to mire, my friend. I have dirt in places I haven’t looked at in months."

Andros grimaced as the man rummaged about in his mouth with hands that looked as if they’d been rooting through pigswill all morning. His nose crinkled as more of the man was exposed to the light of day. He resisted the urge to step back from his comrade, and forced the grimace from his face.

"And?"

Christo looked up and laughed sheepishly. "I don’t have a clue as to who won. But I believe that new Captain has a little more respect for us." He dragged another bucket up and then eyed the soap cake suspiciously.

"I suppose that means you’ll have to look more respectable then, hey my friend?"

"Bah! I’d rather have the grit than smear this bloody stuff around." He sniffed the cake with disdain and dropped it into the water. "I wish the Conqueror weren’t so particular, Andros. She’ll be the death of me before even discharging me duties. Say," he said as he scratched a bare spot on his belly. "I thought the lord was going to be down at the practice field this morning. Didn’t she say so?"

Andros nodded and then handed his dagger to the Briton.

"Do your nails, man. Might as well look as clean as you’ll be smelling."

Christo grunted but went about cleaning and paring his nails as told.

"I take it you haven’t you been up to her chambers, then? I remember the good Captain of the Guards paying you a visit last evening. Said you were to report to her. She’ll have your guts for garters now, you fool."

The burly man grinned evilly and went about completing his ablutions. He seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in dawdling as he scrubbed his chest and arms before rinsing.

Andros glared at the man. Well, if he were foolhardy enough to disobey a direct order, it was nothing to him. He scratched at his neck hairs and then turned to leave.

"Don’t be leaving too soon, my friend. I’ve got some news, I have. If you’ve an ear, you can listen."

Feeling rather put out but curious nonetheless, the Lieutenant nodded and leaned comfortably against the horse stall. A large bay poked her muzzle into his shoulder, demanding attention, and was granted a scratch or two before being ignored again.

After a few long drawn out minutes, Andros huffed with disdain. ‘It can’t be anything much,’ he thought snidely, ‘or the man would have been bellowing it out to all that would listen. Probably nothing but hearsay, anyway. I’ve better things to do than listen to rumours.’

Dark eyes danced in merriment as the burly man observed the Greek’s indecision. Just when the Lieutenant was ready to leave, he laughed wickedly.

"Alright, alright. Well," he said in a stage whisper. "I did go to her chambers, me man, and stood there waitin’ outside a good hour, too." He nodded his head once and then winked.

Andros sighed with frustration. "Well? Get on with it, man! I’ll be old and grey before you even had your foolish story out! Oh, I’ve no time for this nonsense." He patted the filly once more and turned on his heel.

Christo smirked. "Ah, well then. I suppose you’ll not be wanting to hear how her lordship was having parlay with a common slave since early light? Having a right fine conversation, they were."

The taller man placed both hands on his hips and turned slowly to face the blackguard. Regardless of what was heard, the fool had no business sullying the lord’s reputation by repeating it…and to her second in command at that. Did the man have anything betwixt his ears but dirt?

"I won’t listen to slander, Christo. You might think nothing of starting rumours, but…"

The Briton unleashed the other man’s dagger quickly, and grinned as it thunked into the wood a few inches from Andros’ head.

"It’s not rumour, it’s fact. And the reason I repeat it is because I’m worried, mate. I don’t know what’s going on with the Conqueror these days. Seems to be a funny chill in the air concerning her. Oh, there have been rumours, to be sure. As instructor I hear more than I’d care to, but I’ve not been spreadin’ them. You’ve got my word on it."

Andros nodded and plucked his knife from the wood, placing it back into his belt.

"I apologize, my friend. My head’s being filled with discord lately, and these rumours have got to stop. Frankly, I’m worried, too. I’m beginning to see shadows were there aren’t any."

He sidled a bit closer to the man, and then went on. "There were two attempts on her life last evening, and one of her personal slaves paid the price for it. We’ve got to be on our toes, man, and winnow out this traitor, whom ever he is."

Christo grabbed his shirt off the post and scrubbed his face dry.

"Aye. I’ve been noticing a few leery glances myself lately. That Belacos, for one. He and that popinjay Prastin have been thick as thieves. And then, of course, there’s Dagnine and his lot. I suppose it was just luck that Lord Xena took out one head of the hydra when she killed Dimitri. He was thick with both groups. I never liked that weasel." Andros scratched his beard for a bit and then nodded.

"Well, it seems our Belacos is up to his ears in this one. I suppose he’s never gotten over his dismissal from the Royal Guards. Come to think of it, I believe he’s the only one the lord let live. The usual price for stupidity is death."

Christo hitched his belt and smiled. "Aye, but it were thievin’ he was caught at. She took his farm along with his position in her guard." He scratched his belly. "Might have thought the bloke beneath her contempt. She suffers fools far less than bandits, me thinks."

"Hmmm. I suppose she still thinks he’s useful. But if that bloody lot I dealt with yesterday is any indication, I’d say his usefulness is coming to an end."

The smaller man nodded as he gargled with the greasy remains of the bucket.

"Aye, but it means breakin’ in a new lot and I’m not getting any younger. This bunch is as green as the grass, they are." He chuckled. "Though they did give a good accounting of themselves, I’ll grant ‘em that. I expect Lord Xena will be a might more pleased next time she comes onto the field."

Both men walked through the stabling area into the officer’s quarters while continuing their discussion.

"I don’t suppose there is any real way to stop an assassin from gaining the field, but we can do our best about restricting the use of short arms there." He pursed his lips a bit, deep in thought, and then clasped the other man on the shoulder.

"I’ll have a talk with our weapons chief myself. I’ll make a point of having him round up the dirks and daggers and such. That way, he’ll know he has to answer to me directly. Let’s see which way this fish jumps, shall we?"

Andros peered around carefully and then poked the instructor in the chest.

"I don’t know exactly what you heard, my friend, but I don’t want to hear it second hand from the barracks, right?"

The bear of a man smirked and then whispered something into the other man’s ear. The Conqueror’s second stopped in his tracks, both hands on hips, and just laughed.

"I swear to you, Andros. It’s what I heard."

The other man scratched at his beard. "I’d heard she was a feisty one, and I must admit I’m surprised she’s lasted this long, but the lord can’t abide a wagging tongue. You say Lord Xena was arguing with her? For hours?"

Christo grunted. "At great length, I swear it. Perhaps she’s a witch put a curse on our lord? For all the days I’ve been here, I’ve not heard so much palaver come outta the lord’s mouth."

Andros shook his head in puzzlement. While the lord had a certain gift for verbosity prior to leading the men into battle, he’d always done most of the talking when they had conversed privately. The woman wasn’t openly receptive to anyone’s attempts at friendship, and given her steady and murderous rise through the ranks, he could see why.

‘Familiarity breeds contempt,’ had been her watch phrase for almost as long as he’d known her. He supposed he might be the only person alive who knew as much about her as he did. This wasn’t a comforting thought. He, too, had noticed a change in the Conqueror, even more so since the arrival of this newest slave. Perhaps she was another assassin? He dismissed the dark thought immediately. By the Lieutenant’s account, this could only be taken seriously if the slave was going to talk the Conqueror to death.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully as the other man detailed the argument he’d overheard. And then the tight ball of fear in his belly eased as the weapon’s instructor went on about how the slave had pleaded to scream out the lord’s name in ecstasy. There had been a bargaining of sorts and then the two had ended up in bed. If the Conqueror hadn’t killed the woman yet…

Perhaps there was more than physical release required from this slave? There had been many that had spent time in the lord’s good graces, but none that had really stood the test of sand. At the ripe old age of 35, could Lord Xena have finally found love?

"It’s quite possible there is some magic involved, Christo." The smaller man rubbed his head thoughtfully as the Greek smiled toothily and walked away with a bounce in his step.

Part 10

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