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Chapter 2
Crime and Punishment
“Magnificent!” King Perdiccas uttered, admiring the handiwork of his would-be assassin. Darkness had already descended on the land, and the king pondered the unusual events transpiring in his chamber. This was definitely not a night for gazing out from his balcony or tossing and turning in his bed. No, indeed. Perdiccas awoke suddenly to the sound of an intruder breaking down his chamber door followed by a squad of pursuing guards.
Perdiccas raised his eyebrows in surprise as the intruder made short work of the first wave of men. Usually the incompetents hired by his brother didn’t make it past the battalion outside. Yes, the envoy’s reports had been correct; he was in for a treat tonight. The king pulled away his bed sheets and sat upright to watch the fight between his royal guards and the cloaked figure.
Crunch!
The assassin swung from a large tapestry and smashed into the skulls of the pursuing guards. She removed her staff from the holder on her back and assumed a fighting stance.
“Yahhh!” the two remaining guards screamed as they charged towards their target, swords waving in the air. Unfazed, the assassin swept with her staff, tripping both men.
Pow! Wham!
She somersaulted between the two hapless soldiers, planted her staff, and executed a flying split kick that knocked both men unconscious. The assassin returned to her fighting stance and waited for her final opponent.
The captain of the guard slashed the air furiously with his short sword, and ran to attack the intruder. Perdiccas held his breath in suspense, totally engrossed in the show.
“Save the king!” the guard screamed, trying to alert any reinforcements who were still able to hold a spear. After a series of thrusts, the assassin caught the guard’s power stroke with her staff, embedding the edge of his sword in the wood.
Thunk!
The guard struggled to pull it free, but, with a flick of the wrist, the assassin took possession of the sword.
“Kiyaa!” Without a second thought, she impaled the shocked guard by stabbing him in the gut.
Victorious, the assassin returned her staff to the back holster. It was time to get down to business. She parted the front of her cloak slightly and drew her sword from the scabbard. With deliberation and purpose, she stalked towards King Perdiccas, her ultimate target.
“Who are you? Whom do you work for?” Perdiccas asked, clearly intrigued. The figure stepped closer to the bed and pulled back the hood of her cloak.
“I am Gabrielle of Potidaea, and I am here on behalf of the innocents you murdered. You will join them in Hades, Perdiccas of Macedon.” The blonde stared imperiously at the seated king.
“Absolutely stunning,” he grinned crookedly as he reached up and cupped her chin. Gabrielle’s green eyes blazed with outrage as he ran his thumb over her lips.
Crack!
Gabrielle backhanded the king, knocking him onto the floor. Her jaw muscles tightened with resolution as she pointed her sword at Perdiccas’s neck.
“Your reputation precedes you, Gabrielle.” Perdiccas remarked, still smirking. “You’re just as she said you would be. As beautiful as Aphrodite, though very good at your job. It’s such a pity that you’re trying to kill me. I would love to better make your acquaintance.” Perdiccas laughed cryptically.
“Shut up, you worthless dog!” she snarled, jabbing her blade into his skin and drawing blood. “You left us all to rot, and you will die tonight!” Gabrielle raised her sword with both hands and prepared to strike when Perdiccas let out a low whistle.
There was a rustle in the drapes near the balcony. Gabrielle flinched instinctually, but she was too intent on her target to notice the approaching figure.
A vaguely familiar voice spoke, “In the name of the goddess, drop your weapon.”
Gabrielle sneered as she prepared her killing blow. “Go screw a centaur.”
Shink!
“AAAAAAAAAAhhhh!” Gabrielle screamed in pain as she felt the dagger enter her body through her armpit. The unknown warrior wrenched her blade from Gabrielle’s torso, releasing a slow stream of blood. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Periccas seized his chance and quickly fled the chamber.
“Guh.” Gabrielle dropped her sword and staggered forward. Her vision was becoming cloudy, and the room started to spin. She collapsed on the floor and desperately tried to stop her body from shaking. Gabrielle looked up to see the priestess Ilainis of Mycenae wiping off her blade.
“Ilainis…? Whaa?”
“Yes, Gabrielle. Athena sends her regards, chosen one.”
“Ugh.” As Gabrielle stretched to reach her weapon, Ilainis kicked her in the face. Ilainis towered over the fallen warrior, admiring her handy work. She was dressed in silver armor with matching vambraces and greaves. It was quite a far cry from the robes worn by most normal acolytes sworn to the goddess Athena. Still, Ilainis seemed at home with her new role as enforcer.
“Where is she? Athena…the goddess promised…she promised me,” Gabrielle wheezed, regaining her composure. She rolled out of the way to avoid Ilainis’s second kick.
“Revenge? The annihilation of your enemies, Gabrielle?” Ilainis asked, backing off momentarily. “You serve Athena, not Ares. She grows tired of the blood-soaked massacres which have become your calling card.” Gabrielle clung to the side of Perdiccas’s bed and tried to pull herself to her feet. Ilainis sheathed her dagger and crossed her arms over her chest.
“The goddess has been indulgent so far, Gabrielle. She keeps her promises to favored mortals,” Ilainis flushed slightly, “but this massacre must stop. How many ambassadors, how many generals, and how many magistrates must die to sate your blood lust? How many? Athena has ordered you to spare Perdiccas, chosen one. She wants him alive for her own purposes.”
“He should die!! Like all the others!!” Gabrielle screamed with fury and pain. She rose unsteadily to her feet and glowered at Ilainis.
“The ways of the goddess are not to be questioned,” Ilainis stated as she closed the distance between them. “You have forsaken the true wisdom.”
Gabrielle stared into Ilainis’s eyes, considering the priestess’s words. Gabrielle’s mouth twisted into a cruel grimace, and she spat in the young woman’s face.
“Athena warned you, chosen one!” Ilainis shot back, grabbing Gabrielle by the throat and lifting her off the ground.
BAM!!
She slammed Gabrielle’s bleeding carcass against the chamber wall. Ilainis was in no mood for petty games tonight. She never suffered fools lightly, especially when they threw away the highest honor imaginable. Ilainis had prayed day and night since girlhood for the favor of the grey eyed goddess, and this…this…reckless, blood spattered thing had been held above all others? She would pay for her insolence.
Defiant to the end, Gabrielle choked her outrage. “Damn your …gasp…instructions …cough… and simpering Athenas! Do you know who I am??” Gabrielle exclaimed frantically as she tried to draw breath through Ilainis’s iron grip.
“You are filth,” Ilainis growled at Gabrielle. “You are an abomination, and goddess willing, soon you will be dead.”
“RAARR!” Ilainis’s rage spilled over as she released her grip and threw Gabrielle across the room.
“HE IS MINE!!” Gabrielle wailed, heaving and massaging her neck as she lay in a heap near the balcony’s edge.
At that instant, the man in question and the remnants of his palace battalion chose to cautiously re-enter the chamber. Perdiccas grinned at the sight of Gabrielle’s body across the room and shook his head in appreciation.
“Well Ilainis of Mycenae, you and your goddess have rendered a valuable service to Macedonia.” He bowed slightly from the waist. “At the conclusion of our dealings, perhaps I can thank you properly,” the king spoke as he looked Ilainis up and down. “Such efforts deserve a kingly reward.”
Ilainis noticed the focus of his gaze and returned it with a look of disgust. She drew her sword to threaten Perdiccas. “Hear me, little king. The wisdom of Athena has spared your life. Do her bidding, or I will be forced to return and take it from you.”
Ilainis knealed and rested her hands on her sword pommel in prayer. “Hear me O goddess. Return me to your presence. I have carried out your will, my lady, and await your pleasure.” Ilainis smiled to herself and disappeared in a flash of light.
The heavily armed guards scratched their heads as they stared at the intruder’s small, prone form. How on earth did this woman slay so many men?
“Shall we kill her, sire?” they enquired.
“No,” the king ordered. “She may be out of favor, but even I’m not crazy enough to execute one of Athena’s mortal playthings. Teach her a lesson, and I’ll administer to her later.” Perdiccas laughed as he strode triumphantly out of the room and closed the door for “privacy”.
Gabrielle seemed to be in no position to protest. Two guards gripped her by the biceps as a third prepared to begin the interrogation. Reeling from her injuries, Gabrielle’s head hung limp, and her eyes stared blankly at the floor.
Slap!
“Wake up, bitch! How did you get in here? Who did you pay off?” the soldier barked.
Gabrielle remained silent as she fought to maintain consciousness. Her mind was shrouded in mist, her thoughts lost and blurred. Fight? Flee? Exist? Nothing seemed real.
Punch!
Then the fog parted, and only one thought remained: not like this.
“Answer me! Who is the traitor?”
The though resounded again. No, not like this. Gabrielle returned to her senses. It can’t end like this.
Whack!
Gabrielle kicked her astonished interrogator in the groin, incapacitating him.
“Aaaaaa…yipe,” he squeaked, rolling around on the floor.
Running on pure adrenaline, she backhanded the restraining guards and dispatched them using pressure points. It just can’t end like this, she thought.
Gabrielle scrambled towards the balcony and flung herself over to the other side of the railing. She crouched at the edge of the masonry, trying to see the ground below. Nothing. Nothing but darkness and the stars above.
“Surrender in the name of the king.” Gabrielle turned to see the king’s auxillary guards battering down the door to the bed chamber. No, it couldn’t end like this, she thought frantically. Damn the gods and their vile works! Damn them and their strange ideals! She would return, and she would have her vengeance! Gabrielle stared at the abyss over the railing and pondered her fate. Damn you, Athena! Damn you; you promised! Gabrielle jumped over the edge into the night sky.
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“Athena..,” Gabrielle whispered helplessly as she convulsed with fever. The healer Iatros gently dipped his cloth into a basin of water and mopped the sweat off his patient’s brow.
“It’s all right,” he said, calming the two concerned onlookers. “This is a side effect of the nepenthe I gave her earlier. Sometimes it produces strange dreams and visions.” Xena and Lyceus nodded their heads in understanding and watched as the healer administered to the shivering warrior. Xena hesitantly reached forward her hand and smoothed the unconscious woman’s hair. After Iatros sponged off the blood, Gabrielle’s locks shone with their usual golden hue.
Lyceus turned to Iatros as he dried his hands with a dry towel. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked curiously.
Iatros shook his head thoughtfully and cleared his throat. “I think the better question, lad, is what’s right with her. In all my years of practice after studying with the priests of Asclepius, I’ve never seen the like of her injuries. Cuts, contusions, perhaps a concussion. Blood and dirt everywhere! Add to that the gaping side wound, a dislocated shoulder, cracked ribs, a fractured ankle, a broken arm, and Hermes knows what other internal injuries. It’s like someone decided to run her through and throw her off a cliff for good measure.” Iatros’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But still she lives. And even more extraordinary, she’ll probably recover. It’s just crazy, lad,” he shrugged. “I have an Athenian colleague who would give his eye teeth for a look at our mystery lady.”
Iatros turned to the siblings, “And you two said that she was walking around the city? And she saved your life, lass?”
Xena crossed her arms indignantly. “I could have taken him.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Cyrene said as she entered the guest room.
“Lyceus!” Xena turned and punched her brother in the arm.
“Ouch!”
“Aye, madam,” Iatros nodded in greeting. “When Lyceus came running to find me, I thought that your Xena got into another scrap with Diagoras behind the boxing arena,” Iatros chuckled.
“Diagoras started it,” Xena grumbled. “Besides, I’m sure that broken arm will teach him not to insult my cooking.”
Cyrene sighed and placed her head in her hands, “May the gods preserve my deranged daughter from her foolish stunts,” she said as she swatted Xena’s hair. Cyrene turned to Iatros, “Well, healer, how is our hero doing?”
“She’s hanging on by her toenails. She’ll need cool water baths to reduce the swelling and inflammation,” Iatros said as he shoved the water basin into Xena’s arms. “As soon as her fever breaks, she’ll need a tunic and fresh bedding,” he also noted, dropping the towel on top of the basin. “Here’s the remainder of the nepenthe for pain.” Xena ducked to prevent the flying herb pouch from hitting her in the head. “Now if she starts coughing, use a mustard poultice to prevent the sickness from taking root in her lungs.” Xena flinched, waiting for the next volley which never came.
“Now then,” Iatros continued, “the source of the problem is a very deep wound. She’s right fortunate that the blade didn’t pierce her lung. Now the bandage has to be wrapped just so.” Iatros moved to pull back the bedsheet and then paused.
“Don’t you have something else to do, lad?” Iatros asked.
Lyceus looked around blankly, “No, nothing.” He shook his head and waited for the unveiling.
“Lyceus, go tend the bar. We have a group of Scythian mercenaries who will want more wine with their mutton stew.”
“Yes, mother,” Lyceus groaned, closing the door behind him.
Iatros pulled back the blanket and revealed Gabrielle’s bruised shoulder and an elaborate bandage reaching around her breasts to cover the side wound. “I snapped the shoulder back into its socket, so pay that no mind. Now, you’ll have to change the bandages twice a day and wash the wound with wine.” He emphasized the last part as Xena silently thanked the gods that he had no wineskin to toss at her.
“If Asclepius smiles on us, we’ll avoid blackening of the flesh or any other nastiness.” Cyrene nodded in understanding as Xena pulled a face from behind her pile of “remedies.”
“And if that wasn’t enough, I set the left arm and ankle. Keep an eye on that too, and she should be up and about in a month if the other injuries behave themselves.” Iatros made his final pronouncement and reached for his cloak. Xena stashed her supplies in the corner of the room and walked with her mother to accompany the healer out.
Cyrene bade him goodbye at the doorway, “Iatros, we can’t thank you enough. You’re always welcome to a fine meal at the tavern.”
Iatros bowed in acknowledgment. “As always, it’s a pleasure, madam. I’ll return in a few days to check on my patient.” Iatros then turned to Xena, “Now you take good care of her, and she’ll come round soon enough. Truly amazing,” he muttered in disbelief. “Follow my instructions, young Xena, and all shall be well.” He started to leave and then stopped. “Also, be careful with that right cross of yours, lass. You almost broke poor Diagoras’s nose, too.” Iatros smiled to himself and left.
Mother and daughter stood side bye side, watching the healer journey back to his home. Xena began, “Mother…”
Cyrene stopped her in mid-sentence, “Not one word out of you. That woman saved your life, and we owe her the best care possible.” Cyrene shuddered, “If she hadn’t been there…”
“I said I could have taken him,” Xena asserted.
“Xena, you can’t keep doing this! You’re a young woman who will be married soon. What would Maphius think about his future wife dueling thieves and beating up hooligans?” Cyrene asked with a pained expression on her face.
“You mean, what would Thanasima, his esteemed mother, think?” Xena interjected.
“That’s not the point! I want you to be happy, Xena. I want you to find a good husband with a nice home, and then you can start a family.” Cyrene’s tone softened. “I want you to have a good life.”
Feeling guilty, Xena responded, “But Mom, I will have a good life.”
“As what, a warlord? If Atreus were still around, he would have knocked some sense into you long ago.”
“Mom…”
Cyrene decided to change the subject. “A messenger came from the city magistrate while you were in the guest room. The trial is scheduled for tomorrow at noon. The city garrison gathered the evidence, and it seems likely that the thief will hang for this.”
Xena grunted in approval. At least some things made sense around here.
“After the trial,” Cyrene droned, “we can gather provisions for the Festival of Poseidon and prepare for your engagement ceremony.”
Xena looked at her mother expectantly.
“I’ll tend to your savior for awhile,” Cyrene said finally. “Finish making dinner, and prepare the main table. Toris is coming home tonight, and he’ll want to hear about the grain prices.”
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The next day, the sun beamed brightly on the main courtyard. The chief magistrate, the Archon of Amphipolis, rushed towards the appointed meeting place, hastily putting on his judge’s robe. The next trial wasn’t scheduled to start for an hour, but the magistrate had an important guest to meet.
“General Eucles! It’s good to see you, sir,” the Archon said, warmly shaking his hand. “Just arrived from Athens, I see.”
Eucles, the new Strategos in charge of defending Amphipolis, coolly accepted the welcome. He surveyed his surroundings with disinterest and then returned his gaze to nervous official standing before him.
“Yes, Archon. I intend to officially assume command of our forces after our business is concluded.”
“Well, we could delay your introduction to the city officials” the magistrate offered.
“No, no. That’s fine,” Eucles stated. “I make it point to establish good working relations with the civilians.”
“Oh.” The magistrate quickly recovered, “My aide will escort you to the site of the official welcoming ceremony. I believe he’s waiting for the carriage to arrive.”
Two soldiers carried a large table to the center of the courtyard, while a third brought a large satchel. “Please excuse me,” the magistrate said as he removed a dagger and pieces of armor from the satchel. “Evidence,” the magistrate explained. He placed the objects on the table and arranged them. “I’m preparing for my next case at noon.” Eucles appeared interested. “Luckily it’s a fairly straightforward case,” the magistrate noted, “Theft and assault, I’m afraid. The thief’s intended targets fought him off, and we found him unconscious at the scene of the crime.”
“Here comes our man now,” the magistrate gestured as a group of soldiers dragged the shackled thief Autolycus. The general’s eyes widened in recognition.
“Ah, Autolycus. We meet again,” Eucles said as he peered down at him.
“Always a pleasure, mon general,” Autolycus replied.
The magistrate seemed confused. “Do you know this thief?” he asked.
“Alas, yes. He has quite a reputation in Athens,” Eucles explained. “I haven’t seen you since my battalion captured you for stealing Athena’s golden peplos,” he said, staring at Autolycus.
“Yes, well I’ve been keeping busy. You know, avoiding execution, escaping from prison, expanding my franchise,” Autolycus winked. “That sort of thing.”
“How nice,” Eucles said, rolling his eyes.
“But enough about me. How are you, Eucles?” Autolycus continued. “And more importantly, how is that beautiful daughter of yours?” Autolycus’s eyes sparkled as he grinned.
“Oof!” Autolycus reacted as his guards pulled the chains tighter.
“Quiet, thief,” they warned. The soldiers then consulted the magistrate. “What should we do with him, Your Lordship?” they asked.
The magistrate waved his hand. “Place him in a holding cage until the trial begins.”
“Send my love to Lysandra!” Autolycus taunted as the soldiers dragged him away.
Eucles crossed his arms, satisfied. “He is to be tried at noon, you say?” he inquired. The magistrate nodded. “Excellent.”
“There is an interesting aspect to this case,” the magistrate noted. “The thief was defeated by a strange warrior. A woman, no less. She saved the life of a local girl by knocking him out with her fighting staff.”
“Interesting. I would enjoy meeting such a woman after the trial.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the magistrate noted. “She suffered severe injuries and lapsed into a coma after the fight. The local healer doesn’t understand how she could breathe, let alone walk. We thought that the thief beat the pulp out of her until the young girl and her brother came forward to tell their side of the story.”
“Do you have any idea who she is?” Eucles asked apprehensively.
The magistrate shook his head. “We don’t even know her name. At first, we thought she could have been one of Melosa’s girls. But no one in the city had a clue about her identity. The city guards said they saw her cross the bridge over the River Strymon two days ago. In fact, merchants reported seeing her hobbling down the road from here all the way to the Macedonian capital.”
“That’s more than a day’s ride away,” Eucles realized. The general’s curiosity was piqued. A female warrior, who, by all accounts, should be dead, travelled a considerable distance on foot into Athenian territory and saved the life of a complete stranger. This woman was definitely not just another Amazon.
Eucles carefully examined some of the evidence on the table. Hmm, the leather bracers were nothing out of the ordinary. There were very unusual markings on the warrior’s armor, though. He scraped off the blood from the breastplate, revealing an embossed medusa head. Eucles picked up one of the greaves and ran his fingers over the raised snake and owl design. Such symbols were only worn by the Agretai, the priestesses of Athena. Something strange was definitely going on.
Eucles smiled to himself slightly. His mission to find Gabrielle might be easier than he expected.
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