"Like Father, Like Son"

By Elizabeth A Merz

Disclaimers:

Xena: Warrior Princess is TM and © by Studio USA Television Distribution LLC. I am not connected to the cast, crew or producers, Studio USA, Renaissance Pictures, or Universal Television Enterprise in any way. The stories that appear here, at AXD : Legacy are works of fiction produced for the sole purpose of entertaining my fellow XWP fans, and to keep my favorite characters alive. I am not making money from my stories.

Comments, feedback, and constructive criticism may be sent to eamerz@tds.net. Thank you.

 

Prologue : Scrolls, scrolls and more scrolls

The discovery in Qumran shed new historical light on the ancient times. Among the so called Dead Sea Scrolls was The Treatise of Eve. Nothing is known of this woman, other than she was connected somehow with a historical figure; a Roman conqueror named Livia. Her scrolls are a compilation of spiritual teachings as well as the story of her travels to the East, far beyond the boundaries of the known world at that time. Her teachings marry the Tao Te Ching with the teachings of a little known Hebraic prophet named Eli. (As a side note, Eve quotes the Tao a total of seven times without properly attributing a source. With each quote, she added "so taught Lao Ma," instead of attributing Lao Tzu, traditionally thought to have written the Tao.)

Similar ideas to the Tao are found in other Qumran scrolls, which were written later than the Treatise of Eve, giving rise to the theory that the latter was used to form the basic spiritual construct of the former.

Eve's spiritual teachings survived the years well intact, while her personal journals did not fair as well. The jars in which they were hidden had broken long ago, exposing them to the elements, promoting decay. The few scraps of these unfortunate scrolls that could be pieced together reveals Eve's belief in a (believed to be) mythical heroic figure, Gabrielle de Poteidaia. Up until the summer of 2001, there were several schools of thought concerning this figure. The majority of historians working on the Qumran believed that Gabrielle was a forgotten minor god, perhaps of Sumarian origin and adopted later by the Greeks and Romans. (There are stories tying this god with other mythical heroic figures, such as Hercules and Xena.) However, a recent discovery in Egypt has given rise to a new theory; that Gabrielle de Poteidaia was in actuality a flesh and blood human being, and was known to Eve.

July 25th, 2001, an Egyptian archeologist discovered a modest tomb near Dashur that claimed to hold the remains of Cleopatra's son, Alexander Helios, son also of Mark Antony. While his twin sister, Selene, survived a rocky childhood to eventually marry King Juba II of Mauretania, it is thought by historians that Alexander Helios and his younger brother, Ptolemy Philadelphos, were murdered by Herod the 1st when they were still children and in the care of Octavia, Marc Antony's wife. The remains found in the tomb, mummified with the same care of a Pharaoh, were that of a grown man, bringing to mind this question.....If Herod did not murder Helios, what became of the Ptolemaic heir apparent who, had his parents succeeded in dominating the known world, might have ruled both Egypt and Rome?

The answer to that question may well lie in the scrolls that were found in the sarcophagus. The scrolls were stored in amphorae, as well preserved as the mummy they kept company, were written in Greek and signed by a bard named "Gabrielle." It told the story of her appointment to Helios as protector, and made reference to a teacher from the East named Eve, which brings us back to the subject at hand.

A section in The Treatise of Eve tells a similar story found in Gabrielle's scrolls, of a struggle between the Romans and the Egyptians in Saqqara. The similarity between the two accounts could imply that both authors were witnesses to the events they discribed, or perhaps Eve met Gabrielle later and from the bard learned of the struggle in Saqqara. Either way, we've quite possibly found evidence of Gabrielle de Poteidaia's mortal existence.

 

 

Chapter 1

Octavia had only met her visitor once before, many years ago, and then had estimated that they were about the same age. Octavia grew old; her hair sterling, her body soft and her features creased. Gabrielle, however, hadn't aged. She was as young and beautiful as Octavia remembered.

Her eternal youth had made Gabrielle a legend in Rome, and there were even those who thought of her as a Goddess. Though Octavia knew the true story of Gabrielle's seemingly eternal youth, of the cold sleep that she and Xena had endured as a result of a plan gone awry. They were trying to save Xena's baby from the cruel wrath of the gods, and succeeded in a round about way, by entrusting Octavia's brother with the care of the child after their "deaths." Octavia knew the child as Livia, and hadn't liked her much. She had always believed the stories her brother told of the two warriors' return from death, and yet seeing Gabrielle young and unchanged was shocking.

Perhaps unchanged is too strong a word, Octavia mused as Gabrielle paid her homage with a partial bow. The green eyes returning her gaze belonged to an ancient being, aged by experience, and by loss.

Octavia waved the bow away with an imperious gesture, and reached out to take Gabrielle's hand. "Do you think you are in Rome, or that I hold status enough to warrant your courtesy?" she joked lightly, though the bow pleased her highborn sensibilities.

Gabrielle smiled at her, and covered her hand with both hers, a friendly gesture of peace. "It is very nice to see you again, Octavia."

"It's been so long, I didn't think you would remember me."

"It's been long for you," Gabrielle reminded, "for me it has only been a few years."

"The gods truly were amazing." She said, doubting now her brother's claim that the gods had wanted Xena and Gabrielle dead. Surely they had a hand in preserving Gabrielle's life, and her precious youth? "Too bad they are all gone now."

"They aren't all gone." Gabrielle replied wryly, and with the same wry smile on her lips, she got right to the point. "The messenger you sent for Xena said that you needed help."

"Yes. And I see Xena is not with you."

Gabrielle averted her eyes, but not before Octavia saw grief in their depths.

"Bad news travels fast, Gabrielle." She said, "I heard that she died a warrior's death."

"True."

"She will be missed for all time."

Gabrielle gave a short nod in reply and withdrew her hands. She drifted to the balcony and faced the dawn. Octavia noted at that moment that Xena's chakram hung at Gabrielle's side.

"You've taken up her cause."

"Cause? No, we never had a cause, other than to help people in need." Gabrielle turned on her heel and met Octavia's eyes with a peaceful, steady gaze. "If you still need assistance, then I am willing to lend a hand. What can I do for you?"

Octavia was reminded of Xena's quiet charisma in the way her petite protégé did business. With a sense of renewed hope, she said, "I've heard many stories about you, Gabrielle, particularly in regard to your abilities as a warrior. I hope the stories are true, because I am afraid I am in need of a warrior."

Gabrielle didn't deny or claim her legend. She waited, listening.

Octavia sat on a marble bench and gestured for Gabrielle to sit next to her. Once the warrior was at her side, she began. "Caesar Apollonius, my cousin, has been named Prefect of Egypt."

Gabrielle nodded, "I heard he is an especially harsh ruler."

"He is," Octavia acknowledged, "when he is crossed. And my son, Alexander Helios, has crossed him in an unforgivable manner. He has laid claim to Egypt."

Gabrielle laughed slightly, then coughed to cover her bad manners. Speaking of Marc Anthony, she said, "He is very much like his father, isn't he?"

"Yes. And if he were really my son, his would be a laughable claim. But, unfortunately it is truly his birthright." To the confusion on Gabrielle's face, she went on to explain, "Marc Antony made many children with many women. I accepted his habit as a matter of rote, because I loved him, and because he gave me two daughters to treasure. For their existence alone, I forgave his infidelity. Perhaps it was my forgiving nature that caused him to trust me, or perhaps it was simply a matter of good politics, (I will never know) for in Antony's will, he bequeathed to me all his possessions, including three children he sired with another woman." Finally, with a bitter smile she admitted the truth she was instructed to never reveal to another living soul, "They were the children of Cleopatra."

Gabrielle shook her head slightly, a subtle movement that spoke volumes of her doubt.

"I assure you, it is true. I took in my rival's children, two sons and a daughter, and raised them as my own. In time, I came to love them, more than I ever loved my husband, I think. But that doesn't really matter now." She atoned softly, "It is the past, and a past I choose not to think about too often. What matters is the present, and Alexander's safety. Alexander is rousing the ire of the Egyptians, promising them a return to their former glory. My cousin and Herod the 1st are working together to have him killed. I need you to find Alexander, and convince him to return home with me. Once we are home, I can protect him."

"What makes you think he will listen to me?"

"Because, he respects you." Octavia gestured in a helpless way, "He venerates Xena. He would have certainly bent to her will. But he has also read your scrolls, and speaks highly of you. You may be able to convince him to end his campaign. If not, I trust you will use other methods to bring him to me."

"You are talking about kidnapping."

Octavia leaned forward and said earnestly, "Please, if not for me, then for Egypt. Without Alexander, the Egyptians have no reason to war, for they have no Ptolemy to lead them. I am afraid that the Egyptians cannot endure another war with Rome."

Gabrielle sat back, and seemed to think about Octavia's request. Her gaze moved about the room, scanning first the row of busts sitting on pedestals along the facing wall. Among the depictions of famous Romans was a likeness of Marc Antony, as well as Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus. "Where was he last seen?"

"In Saqqara." She admitted lowly, suddenly worried that Gabrielle might not want to travel to The City of the Dead.

Gabrielle did not disappoint. "I'll go. I'll find him. And I will do my best to bring him home."

A smile softened Octavia's hard, lined features. "I am relieved."

 

* * * * * * *

A servant showed her to a guestroom, brought her food to eat and offered to bathe her. Gabrielle accepted the food, bathed alone, and wrapped herself in the comfort of a huge swathe of cloth, throwing one end over her shoulder, like a toga. She lay down, but couldn't sleep. A soft breeze curled through the garden, up and into her room, circulating a sweet floral scent around the bed, drawing her up, and leading her outside, onto the balcony. The sun had set, and the stars were vast. Octavia's home was built on a hill, and below the balcony where Gabrielle now stood was a stunning panorama of Alexandria. She could see the palace where Cleopatra reigned, and the lighthouse not far away. She noted other landmarks that she remembered, as well as those that were no longer there.

Alexandria once had an impressive library, preserved by Cleopatra, how had a passion for written literature. During her first trip to Egypt with Xena, Gabrielle was allowed to spend time in that library, hold and read scrolls written by ancient bards, both the famous and the forgotten. The bard in her was thrilled. She could have spent a lifetime going through the scrolls, one by one. She'd dreamed of one day returning to Alexandria for the sole purpose of exploring Cleopatra's library. But her travels kept her far from Alexandria, and in the meantime, the library burned to the ground due to the folly of Julius Caesar.

At the time, Rome was gaining control over Egypt. Cleopatra and her younger brother, Ptolemy, were supposed to rule Egypt as a team, with Rome as a benefactor. But the balance of power between the siblings shifted once Caesar became enamored with Cleopatra. Feeling usurped by Caesar's claim on Cleopatra, Ptolemy incited his army to besiege the palace. Unfortunately, before his generals could gain control of the situation, Caesar took him hostage. He became Caesar's prisoner, and Caesar, in turn, was held prisoner by the Egyptian army.

During the stand off, Caesar maintained his access to the harbor side of the palace by taking control Alexandria's lighthouse. In retaliation for Ptolemy's actions, he set their naval fleet on fire. It burned out of control, not only destroying their fleet of ships, but the library, as well. The majority of over 4000 scrolls perished in the fire. Looking now in the direction where the old library once stood, Gabrielle felt a tug in her middle. A waste. A horrible waste. Egypt's glory had been ruined by Roman occupation. Of course, that was not an opinion she dared to share with Octavia, who was an obvious patriot of Rome. Gabrielle didn't trust her, or her motives for saving Alexander Helios from Herod's executioner.

Sight unseen, she felt an affinity for the son of Marc Antony, simply for the spirit of his cause, but her dislike of Rome would not keep her from carrying out her mission. Despite the losses Egypt suffered at the hands of the Romans, there was peace here, and peace was more valuable than libraries, or golden cities, or the survival of the Ptolemaic line. She hoped fervently that the son was not too much like the father, that he would listen to reason. Marc Antony had been a man of many excesses, including his desire to rule supreme as a god by Cleopatra's side. His blind ambition had been his undoing. Alexander Helios certainly sounded as though he shared his father's ambitions, perhaps more so for the audacity of his claim. If so, she might have to return him to his stepmother by force.

A sad smile lifted Gabrielle's lips as she considered what Xena might have thought of her situation. Her love of Mark Antony would have compelled her to aid his son in any way possible, especially if it meant warring with her old nemesis, Rome.

"We'll take the side of peace this time." She said aloud to Xena, speaking as though the Warrior Princess stood at her side, alive and available. Though the world seemed silenced by her death, Gabrielle comforted herself by believing that Xena could hear her even now, and often spoke to her in quiet moments. She added, as if hearing a contentious response, "Because it is the right thing to do."

A strange feeling enveloped her, as if someone stood at her back. She turned to look, to see who was there. No one. "Xena?" But no, it was not a pleasant or comforting sensation, as if the spirit of her friend had joined her in her moment of reverie. It was cold, prickly. A haunting, but not of a ghost.

"Ares?"

And dismissed the very notion by laughing at herself. Ridiculous. She didn't have the ability to sense his presence. That was Xena's talent, an inborn instinct that in her wild youth brought Ares near to her heart, nearly destroying her. Later, her instinct became her protection against his intrusive machinations.

It was nerves, that's all. This was her first adventure since Xena's death. In the past she'd thought herself independent, though in the back of her mind, no matter what happened to her, she knew she could always count on her friend for assistance. Perhaps she'd depended on Xena far more than she ever allowed herself to realize. Her teacher and mentor gone, she felt like a baby bird preparing to leave the nest for the first time, knowing in her heart that she was formidable and capable, and yet fearing the vast unknown beyond her former boundaries.

Instead of returning to bed, she chose to write. Sitting on a bench before a marvelously carved writing table, she gently spread out her scroll, paused to think on what she wanted to say, then put pen to scroll and let it pour out. She'd been writing prolifically of late, often beginning each new scroll with "Dear Friend," as if writing a long letter to Xena. Today she wrote of her arrival to Alexandria, her doubts about Octavia's honesty, her affinity for Alexander Helios, and her terrible longing for the presence of her dear friend.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Gabrielle rose early the next morning, and was taken to the docks in order to board the ship that Octavia had commissioned for her trip down the Nile. Arriving, she noted first that a camel driver was loading a large number of camels onto the ship. Her horse, a beautiful black mare she'd named Anemone, was gamboling among the camels, unsure of her place in their herd.

She started toward Anemone, intent on calming the animal, and halted abruptly as she noticed a large number of men, all wearing some form of armor and carrying weapons, waiting impatiently for the camels to move so that they could board.

She searched the length of the dock, and found Octavia speaking to a tall man in a nomad's robe. Without preamble, she gestured to the armored men and demanded, "They aren't the hands on this ship, are they?"

"I've hired a small contingent of men will accompany you into Saqqara." And dismissing Gabrielle's concern over the armed men boarding the ship, Octavia gestured to the man at her side. "This is Philemon." She introduced, "He is the Captain of the Nubian Night. He will take you down the Nile, as far as Giza, and from there he will serve as your guide to Saqqara. He knows the Sahara better than any guide in Alexandria."

Gabrielle's eyes rested on Philemon, who seemed rather familiar to her, though she couldn't quite place him. To Octavia she said, "I don't like the idea of traveling with an army. I am not marching off to war."

Philemon imposed himself into their conversation. "Saqqara holds the wealth of Egypt within the tombs of the Pharaohs. Grave robbing bandits roam the desert, and have been known to attack unwary travelers."

"Thanks, I can take care of myself." She informed him firmly.

His smoky green eyes twinkled with dark amusement. "A warrior, yes you are, and a woman," he gave her form a quick look, and added lowly, "indeed, yes. One makes you strong; the other makes you weak. Therefore, you are not invincible, Gabrielle."

He was handsome and dark, muscular and lean. Tempting, had he not been so damned patronizing! Gabrielle's retort was ready on her tongue, but Octavia intervened before she could tell him just what she thought of him.

"It is a vast desert," Octavia said in a placating way, "and it would be easy for you to get lost without a guide. As for the armed guard, I must insist that they accompany you, as well." And she added, "For what good would it do Alexander if you died before you could reach him?"

Perhaps she made sense, but Gabrielle didn't have to like the situation. "I'll send word when I've reached your son." She said to Octavia.

Brushing Philemon aside, she returned to the boarded platform and ahead of the warriors, she boarded the Nubian Night.

 

* * * * * * *

She spoke few words to the Captain and his men as the made their way down the Nile. During the day, she occupied herself by watching the passing scenery, and fighting seasickness. If the latter became too heady, she'd dig her fingers into a pressure point at her wrist, a trick Xena had taught her long ago, and the nausea would fade.

At night she'd retire to her cabin, and spend a few hours writing by candlelight. She noted early on the second morning that the Captain had become her favorite subject, because he was so very insufferable. If he paid her heed at all, he usually insulted her in some way, or worse, she'd catch him staring at her from time to time. She had been the focus of unwanted male attention in the past, but never like this. His attentions weren't courtly, not even in a rude way. He seemed to study her, as if he were trying to fathom her depths. She wished he would either ignore her, or leer at her, then she'd at least know how to react to him.

It wasn't until the second evening, as the golden sunset split the sky from the land, that the Captain deigned to speak to her in a civil tone of voice.

"You see there?" he said, coming up beside her, and he pointed, "In that direction?"

"I see sand in that direction."

"Wait."

The sunset partially blinded her view, and she placed a hand at her forehead to shade her eyes. In the far distance, three distinct shapes rose from the valley. They were like mountains, but unlike any mountain she'd ever seen.

"The Pharaoh's Tombs of Giza." She breathed.

"Yes. Have you seen them before?"

"Yes, I have. They are amazing."

"A wonder to behold, a product of Egyptian genius. Genuis, and an age long past."

She dropped her hand from her eyes and looked at his profile. "You love Egypt."

He slid a sideways glance her way, a lopsided smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Is it so hard to believe?"

"I thought you were Roman." she admitted, truth lifting her mouth in a smile. "You act like a Roman."

A short nod accepted her judgement of him, and he went on, businesslike, saying, "We will reach the docks of the necropolis soon. But before we dock I must ask you a question." He turned to her, serious. "What is the task you are performing for Octavia?"

Her brows hooked with confusion at the pointless question. "To find her son."

He moved closer, a decidedly malevolent movement. "For what purpose?"

Octavia's warnings of assassins and imminent danger set her defenses tingling. Gabrielle didn't especially like Philemon, but she hadn't considered that he might be an assassin. She reached for the chakram.

Dark amusement played across his features as he saw her intention, and he swept away from her, whipping his cloak off his back to reveal thick bare arms and a scant Egyptian styled frock. In a movement that was amazingly quick, he removed the dagger from a scabbard he wore across his stomach, knocked the chakram out of her hand and lunged at her, capturing her in a violent embrace, one arm around her arms and torso, dagger held to her neck. His face was close to hers, and anger edged the amusement off his lips.

"I am a Roman, Gabrielle," he informed her, "and I have no time or energy for cowardly assassins."

Feeling the bite of the dagger and understanding at once that he intended to kill her, she reacted by kneeing him square in the groin, then stamping on his foot. He groaned, and as he loosened his grip on her, she pushed off from him. Dropping back an arm's length, Gabrielle took a defensive stance and kicked him three more times, quick movements in succession; once again in the groin, jabbed the heel of her foot at his nose, then his chest. The latter had enough force behind it to drop him to one knee, gasping for air. Once he was down, she shoved him onto his back, removed her sais from her boots, held one at the ready as she spun the other in her right hand. She descended gracefully onto his chest. Once the sai stopped spinning, the tip of the blade rested on his throat.

He froze, and they locked eyes. Her expression dead serious, she said, "Is that any way to treat a lady? I don't think so."

"Kill me." He invited, and he glanced toward the men in his command, now forming a circle about them. "You will certainly die with me."

"You'd die first." She replied, and intuiting how best to infuriate him, she added, "I'd win."

His lids dropped with pique. "Winning is important to you?"

"In this situation," she laughed mirthlessly, "Yes."

She leaned into the sai, biting into his neck with the tip of the blade. "Tell me what you want with Alexander Helios."

He bared his teeth, "To protect him from the likes of you. Assassin." He hissed, and he punctuated his slur by spitting at her face. She did not flinch, though she didn't much appreciate his spittle hanging from her chin.

"I am not an assassin. Octavia sent me to find her son, and take him into my protection until I can deliver him home."

Surprise swept through his expression, and he shocked her by belting out a harsh laugh. "Oh yes, that is rich. You will protect him by delivering him to Octavia! So then she is the assassin. I should have known. It makes perfect sense."

"What are you talking about?"

He measured her, searching her face. Again, she felt it, the uncanny sense that she'd met him before, but couldn't remember where or when. There was familiarity in his features, but it was more than his features that struck a chord in her. Inside the depths of his eyes she seemed to recognize his soul.

He started to reach for her, halting a hand in midair as she bit him harder with her blade. Though the blade broke his skin, blood oozing from the wound, he continued to reach for her. He gently wiped the spittle from her chin.

"You are not an assassin." He said, clearly relieved by the truth.

"No, I am not an assassin." She confirmed, at once startled by the immediate affinity she felt for him. She eased off him, but continued to hold her blades in a defensive posture.

"Tell me what is going on, Philemon."

"My turn." He said simply, and he lurched up, flipping her onto her back with a thud that knocked the air out of her. Again, his movements were impossibly fast. One moment she was over him, the next, on her back with her arms over her head, his hands on her elbows and his full weight astride her, pinning her to the deck.

Looking down into her eyes, he said, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ptolemy Philadelphos."

He waited for her to understand. She stared into his face, into his green eyes that seem to mock the entire world around him, the shape of his jaw, his eyes, and his mouth. She realized now that his familiarity was due in part to seeing his mother within his features, and his father within his mannerisms.

"Marc Anthony's youngest son?"

"At your service."

"But why did Octavia lie to me about you?"

"To protect herself. She is plotting with Herod to have my brother killed. She enlisted me to deliver you to Helios, so I imagined that you were her assassin. I am glad to be wrong about you, Gabrielle." He said, smiling in a friendly, appealing way into her eyes.

It made sense. Octavia, a patriot of Rome, would have a vested interest in protecting Rome. "But why would she trust you to deliver an assassin to your brother? Unless you are party to her plot?"

His smile fell away and he grew serious. "I am Octavia's servant. Not of my own free will, but through her treachery. She believes I am utterly trustworthy, which is why she used me to deliver you to Helios."

"She is blackmailing you."

"Yes."

"And you are allowing her to believe that she has the upper hand."

"Exactly."

"If I had been the assassin, you would have killed me."

"My loyalty belongs to my brother."

"Then if she really wanted Helios dead, why didn't she send an assassin? Unless she knows that you cannot be trusted."

The suggestion clearly troubled him.

As abruptly as he'd thrown her onto her back, he pushed off her and offered a hand to help her to her feet. She took his hand, and let him pull her up. Once she was on her feet, he didn't readily let her hand go. Leaning in to her, he said lowly, "There is another possibility. Octavia is actively seeking favor with Herod. Perhaps she wants to deliver Helios and his wife to Herod, alive."

"His wife?"

His expression was inscrutable. "She is our contact in Giza."

He released her hand, and began shouting orders at his crew. The bay of the necropolis was in sight. Though this site had been alive with activity thousands of years ago as the tombs of the Pharaohs were being built, it was empty and still at the moment, save one, lone cloaked figure standing on a dock, waiting.

* * * * * * *

 

"Gabrielle!"

Gabrielle recognized Eve's voice immediately. She hurried down the ramp to embrace Xena's daughter.

"I can't believe it is you." Eve said to her, and smiling she asked, "Where is Mother?"

Gabrielle's happiness tempered. "You haven't heard."

Eve's smile melted away, anticipating bad news.

Gabrielle reassured her with a smile. "We have much to discuss."

* * * * * * *

"I met Helios in India." Eve told her, and her features softened in a way that Gabrielle had never seen in Eve. "I was traveling from Chin to Alexandria, and chose to take a ship from Kuman, rather than Muziris, as I had originally planned. Helios lived in Kuman with a family of rug makers, hidden there by Octavia when he was still a boy. I first saw him in the marketplace, selling his family's wares. I new instantly that he was the reason I'd changed my plans. I'd gone to Kuman to meet my soulmate."

Gabrielle nodded her understanding of that knowing that goes beyond simple love and trust and friendship, that knowing that two souls are meant to connect from one lifetime to another. The urn carrying Xena's ashes, resting in Eve's hands and warmed by the glow of their fire, inspired indescribable gratitude in Gabrielle for the time they'd had together, and equally intense pain for the time they lost.

The desert and their camp were quiet, though many of the crew of the Nubian Night sat with them near the fire. Philadelphos stood apart from them all, but not so far that he couldn't hear what was being said. He drank wine from a skin, his eyes resting on Gabrielle as he listened soberly to a story he'd already heard.

"Helios and I chose to marry." Eve concluded, "Afterwards, we sent word to Octavia. She asked us to meet her in Alexandria so that she could share our joy. On our way, we encountered the first of many assassins. Helios forced one of them to talk. He told us that Octavia was trying to have us killed."

"She told me that Helios wants to claim Egypt."

Eve did not respond, except to lower her eyes to the urn in her lap.

Gabrielle drew her own conclusions. "He does, doesn't he?"

"It isn't power that he seeks." Eve defended softly.

"You of all people." Gabrielle countered, "You are an apostle of Eli, a messenger of peace. How can you advocate a war?"

"There is more to Helios' claim than the desire to liberate Egypt."

Gabrielle refused to hear more. "Eve, a claim for power is no justification of war. Rome has brought peace to Egypt. Surely, peace is worth something to you? It must be worth more to you than pleasing your husband's vanity."

Concern drew Eve's brows in a knot. "It is not vanity, Gabrielle. I have seen the future. Helios must take his place as a Pharaoh by the Vernal Equinox, or the consequences could be devastating."

"Why? What happens during the Vernal Equinox?"

Eve looked to Philadelphos for support, and he shook his head.

"I cannot say."

Gabrielle looked over her shoulder at Philadelphos. Frowning, she replied, "Have you already raised an army? Is that when you plan on attacking Rome?"

Eve's eyes were on the urn, and she touched her stomach. The gesture was thoughtful, as well as revealing. Eve looked a bit rounder, and her features had that tell tale glow.

"You are with child." Gabrielle discerned.

Eve's silence confirmed her guess.

"The vernal Equinox is when you child is due to be born." Gabrielle realized.

"Eve, you look tired." Philadelphos interjected, "We have a long journey ahead. Rest while you can."

"Why is the birth of your child important in the timing of Helios' rise to power?"

"Philadelphos is right. I am tired."

"Eve, you don't have to listen to him." Gabrielle urged, placing a hand on her arm to keep her from leaving. "You can trust me."

Earnestly, she said, "I do trust you."

"Then tell me everything."

Eve seemed to want to answer, but again with a glance she sought counsel from that maddening Philadelphos. She shook her head, saying simply, "The answers will come soon enough. Tonight, it is enough that we've found one another." She kissed Gabrielle on the cheek, and gently returned the urn to her hands. "You were everything to my mother. I am glad you are here."

Gabrielle stood, and watched Eve walk away. She disappeared into a tent, and two of Philadelphos' men stood guard before the entrance.

She glanced toward the place she'd last seen Philadelphos, intending to pick a fight with the man for his audacious control over Eve's situation, but he was gone. She glanced to his tent. The flaps were moving, though there was no wind. She set the urn on a rock by the fire, and stalked after him.

Without announcing herself, she burst into the tent. Philadelphos stood facing the opening, his hands folded in front of him, looking as though he expected her.

"You will tell me why Eve is afraid for her child." She demanded.

"Why do you insist on ordering me about as if I am a slave?"

"Are you threatening her child? Is that it? Are you using her child to leverage your brother into power? Or are you the one that is trying to gain control of Egypt? Is that the real reason Octavia trusts you? Are the two of you allies?"

Seemingly disinterested, he replied, "Be gone with you, Gabrielle. Your questions are tiresome."

Gabrielle moved toward him with the intention of using the pinch to force him to talk. Before she could reach him, he waved a hand in a half circle before him, a gentle gesture. At once Gabrielle was held in place by invisible hands. Astonished, she struggled against the restraints she could not see, finally spearing him with a glare. He no longer mocked her, but looked rather weary of the world.

"There. You now know a secret that I have kept hidden from my guardians, my teachers, and my own family for the entirety of my life."

"What is this? You are a sorcerer, is that it?"

He laughed low, shaking his head. "Cleopatra claimed before her people that she was Isis, reborn. The Romans, even the Egyptians, thought her claim was conceit. It was not. She was the daughter of a god, Gabrielle. Her father, and his father before him, all the men in the Ptolemaic line are born with the powers of gods, but mortal. As mortal as Cleopatra's brothers, who she had put to death in order to preserve her position as Queen. I was very young when we still lived in the palace with our mother, so I do not remember her well, but Helios tells me that our mother instructed us to keep our powers a secret, so that we did not meet the same fate as her unfortunate siblings. For if she were so brutal to her own family to gain an empire, imagine what a stranger might have done to us for the very same reason."

Gabrielle stopped struggling against the restraints, stilled by her own curiosity. "Octavia knows, doesn't she?"

Philadelphos sighed, and averted his eyes. "My sister, Selene, gave birth to a daughter last year. The child was born defective, and would have died."

"But she didn't." Gabrielle intuited.

"Selene is not happy in her marriage with King Juba. Her children are her only happiness. I couldn't stand to see Selene in pain." He reached out, as though his memory placed him before the cradle of a condemned child. "I touched the child, and by my will, she recovered."

"And Octavia witnessed you heal your niece?"

"She threatened to kill Selene's child with her bare hands if I did not tell her my secret. She could have gotten away with the murder, for the child was expected to die. It was my weakness, Gabrielle, that has now put my brother and his bride in peril."

"The desire to save the life of an innocent child is not a weakness, Philadelphos."

He grinned, an expression that did not touch the self-loathing she now saw in his eyes. "I could have lied, and told her it was my gift alone. My weakness lay in needing to share my fate with my brother. I was afraid."

"And fear is not a character flaw." She added, softly.

It was clear by the expression on his face that he did not believe it was true.

"Helios was content to live his life as a normal man. He was a rug maker. A husband, and soon to be a father. I took that away from him."

Philadelphos did not wear self-pity with grace or style. It weighted down his sardonic personality, casting ugliness around him that Gabrielle immediately recognized.

"You came to me in Octavia's home, didn't you?"

Surprise lifted his fine, dark brows.

"You were going to kill me." She said, understanding now her sensation of being in the presence of a god, and feeling that she was in danger, as well.

"I couldn't," and he laughed at himself, "though I thought you were an assassin, I couldn't kill you."

"Because you aren't a killer."

He stared at her, willing her to more fully understand.

"Because you knew I wasn't a killer?" she offered, and denied that there could be more to it with a shake of her head.

"I know you." He said finally, and he waited for her to admit the same.

"We've obviously met." she agreed.

"No. We've never met. I was in Carthage with a Nanny when you and Xena were in Alexandria. My parents both died, as you know, and from Carthage, I went straight to Octavia."

"Then you are familiar to me because I knew your mother and father. You resemble them both."

He rejected her reasoning. "From the moment I met you, I felt I knew you somehow. It was as if I had known you forever."

She understood the feeling he was referring too, and had felt it with him, too, but unwilling to admit as much to him, she demurred by asking, "What does the birth of Eve's child have to do with Helios taking power?"

He threw a canny glance at her for the way she'd shifted the subject, and the mocking smile returned. For a second, she felt he knew her better than she knew herself, a discomforting thought.

A wave of his hand, and the invisible restraints released her arms. Gabrielle lurched forward slightly.

"You know of our secret. It is all you need to know. Leave, if you must." he smiled fondly at her, "Stay, if you must."

She rubbed her wrists where bondage had left a tingling memory. Though a moment before she was angry enough to use Xena's none-to-gentle pinch on him, she was suddenly reluctant to leave.

"You might as well tell me the rest. Or do you prefer a captive audience?"

He stepped closer to her, and speaking lowly, he said, "There is a curse connected to our Ptolemaic legacy." Standing over her, looking down into her face, he seemed to drink her presence with his eyes. "If Helios is not accepted by the Priests of Ra as ruler of Egypt by the time his child is born, Ra will bestow his favor on the nation that rules Egypt."

"Ra, the god of the sun." she said doubtfully, though for a moment she found it difficult to concentrate on anything more than his closeness, his scent, the way he looked at her. The revulsion she felt at their first meeting had transformed into disconcerting attraction.

He sensed her inner conflict, and heightened it by inching closer. "Ra empowered the first Ptolemy." He said lowly, "For centuries, only the high priests of the old religion knew this to be true, and now Octavia knows, as well. If she prevents Helios from taking his rightful place as Pharaoh before his heir is born, the power of Ra will be granted to the presiding ruler of Egypt, which at the moment is Claudius."

"But how can you hope to take control of Egypt in time? You cannot defeat Rome."

"We do not need to defeat Rome to break the curse of Ptolemy." His gaze lingered on her lips. She could almost feel his gaze, as though he physically touched her. "We need only the cooperation of the Priests of Ra, and an heir." He told her, "If we stand as one before Ra and ask that the curse be removed from our line, the power will leave this world."

"But Octavia worried that Helios was raising an army."

"Perhaps she thought so because the priests of Ra followed Helios into Saqqara. But there is no army. No rebellion. Only a ceremony, and our desire to end the Ptolemaic legacy before the power is passed to unworthy hands"

His sensual warmth embraced her, and her yearning for him was almost too painful a delight to bear.

As if knowing her mind, her heart, her body, he leaned closer still, resting his cheek on hers, seeking comfort from her. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensation of his breath tickling her cheek. He embraced her first in spirit, then with his arms, his hands open and firm on her back. She'd been with men after her husband, Perdicus, had been killed, and most recently had taken her friend Beowulf as a lover in order to satisfy those needs that kept her awake late in the night. But none of her past lovers had thrilled her senses the way that Philadelphos did with a single touch. He inspired her body to sing. Relishing the sensation of being close to him, she sighed, and returned his embrace.

Hearing her sigh, and understanding what it meant to be held by her, he drew her closer, leaning her full body against his, and with his mouth on her ear, he whispered, "I want you, Gabrielle."

"I want you." She said low, feeling silky in his arms, and very happy.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

She'd learned much from Xena during their time together, including how to live in the moment, and how to courageously follow her heart.

Without hesitation, she replied, "Yes."

* * * * * * *

 

Before dawn, they packed up their caravan and struck out into the desert, heading south, for Saqqara. Philadelphos lead the way, with many of his men trailing behind him. Eve and Gabrielle took their place in the center of the long caravan, riding side by side. They spoke of Xena, with Gabrielle telling Eve of their adventures since parting with her in Amazon country. Eve listened, and made few comments other than to question the necessity of her mother's sacrifice for the 40,000 vengeful souls.

"I don't understand fully, myself." Gabrielle admitted, "I've always believed vengeance was wrong, and I didn't much like letting Xena go because those spirits couldn't forgive her. But, I suppose she knew it was her time. Her last request of me was to let her go. How could I refuse her?"

"I understand." Eve wiped tears from her eyes. Laughing unsteadily, she joked, "Besides, my mother was a hard woman to argue with."

Gabrielle smiled big. "She was stubborn when she thought she was right."

"Yes, but often she was right."

"Yes," she agreed.

They rode in silence for a time, abiding in their own memories of the woman they both loved, until Philadelphos glanced backward at them. It was a simple glance, and nothing in his expression revealed more than the curiosity of one that wants to know that his caravan is still intact.

Eve chuckled wryly. "You've left quite an impression on him."

The comment startled Gabrielle. It was not as if she'd chosen to keep her passionate encounter with him a secret, she didn't see the need in advertising the fact, either.

"Why do you say that?"

"It is in the way he keeps looking at you. Hadn't you noticed?"

"No," Gabrielle replied, though in truth she had noticed that his gaze usually lingered on her a moment before he turned back toward their destination. The attention was pleasing, until Eve noticed.

However discreet they were, soon enough the entire caravan knew of their love affair, including Eve. Each time they broke to make camp, his tent became her haven for rest. Outside the tent, their easy rapport and obvious fondness for each other announced their romance for all to see. Gabrielle knew she was falling in love with him.

Once they reached Saqqara, they made camp for what Eve promised would be the last time before meeting with Helios. Laying together during the cool of the night, Philadelphos spoke softly of their future. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth," He told her in a passionate moment, "belong to you for the rest of your life."

"I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms."

"Promise me," he said suddenly, "that you and I will grow old together."

She touched his cheek, wiping the sheen of perspiration away, and smiled. "I promise."

That night she dreamed of Xena. They were sitting by a beautiful lake, on a rock, side by side. The dream felt real, the moment, real, and Xena's hand in hers, real.

"You are with me." She breathed, looking into her soulmate's face.

"Always." Xena acknowledged, smiling.

From afar, she felt the warmth of a corporeal embrace. She squeezed Xena's hand. "Philadelphos." She explained, sensing that Xena knew of him and her love for him. "What do you think?"

"He makes you happy." She smiled, "I think I like him."

"Thank you," Gabrielle gushed, "It means so much to me that you approve."

Xena bent closer to kiss her lips, and was gone.

Gabrielle woke with a gnawing ache deep in the pit of her stomach that even Philadelphos' embrace could not chase away. She rose, careful not to disturb her lover, and dressed quietly. She left his tent, and sat next to the dying fire to weep in private for her lost friend.

The wind circled her as soon as her first tear fell, and in the wind she could have sworn that she heard Xena's voice calling her name.

She scanned the rolling dunes around them, and caught sight of a wraith gleaming in the light of a waning moon. The form was of a statuesque woman in feminine body armor. "Xena?"

Gabrielle scrambled to her feet and started toward the figure, walking quickly, then running as the figure turned and walked away.

"Wait! Xena, wait!"

She chased the figure over three dunes, and each time she crested a dune she saw her more clearly. The long dark hair, straight back, sure step; the closer she came to the wraith, the more Gabrielle was certain that she was in pursuit of Xena. The wraith ignored her pleas to stop, continuing on until Gabrielle caught up to her, and grabbed her shoulder to turn her around.

She spun, her profile definitely Xena's, but as she fully faced Gabrielle the image transfigured into Ares, the god of war.

Gabrielle recoiled, instantly crushed, and thoroughly angry with Ares for tricking her. She struck him in the chest with her fist, and shouted, "How could you do that to me?"

"Ouch! I needed to speak with you alone." He countered, "I doubted you would answer to my call. Especially as you were," and he said the word as though he'd caught her in an act more lurid than he could imagine. "indisposed."

"What do you want, Ares?"

"I'm here to do you a favor."

"Really." she countered dubiously.

"Philadelphos." He said the name matter of factly, as though it explained everything.

"Yeah? So?"

"He has an agenda, Gabrielle. Like that is so surprising. Men like him always have an......uh.....agenda."

Gritting her teeth, she demanded, "Get on with it, Ares, or I am out of here."

"Come on, Gabrielle, this is a no brainer. But I should probably cut you some slack, because you haven't actually used your brain since you started playing hide the phallic symbol with Philadelphos."

She clenched her fists, and warned, "Ares, I swear,"

"Okay, okay, I'll get right to the point." He tilted his head to the side, cocking his brows, and said, "Philadelphos has no intention of abandoning his godhood. Not for anyone, including you."

"You liar." She accused, angry that he would disturb her peace of mind and her happiness with his games. "You are the father of all liars!"

With false modesty, he smiled and said, "Well, yes, but that is beside the point." He moved toward her, halting with hands in the air as she grabbed hold of the chakram and took it off her side, threatening in a gesture to hurl it at him if he came any closer. "Settle, settle," he intoned, and informatively, he said, "See, there is this catch to the whole Ra passing on his power dealio, one Philadelphos didn't see fit to share with you. On the night of the Vernal Equinox, if he and his brother relinquish their claim before the Priests of Ra, then their powers as gods disappears."

"Old news, Ares."

He threw a finger in the air, demanding her silence. "But," he added, "If one brother has an heir, and kills the other brother, then the remaining brother keeps his power, however the power will skip his heir and move on to the heir of the ruler of Egypt." He stopped, and thought about it a moment, looking a bit confused, then deciding he was right, he nodded his assurance.

"Then the power is passed along to Claudius' son, but it doesn't leave this generation of Ptolemy."

"Right."

"That means that Philadelphos is in danger."

"Wrongo!" Ares retorted, "Helios has no interest in aiding the Roman empire, nor does he care to be a god."

"But Helios is the one with the heir, not Philadelphos."

"Well, yes, Helios and Eve are expecting, but their child will not be the only Ptolemaic heir."

"Philadelphos has an heir?"

"I believe so." he nodded, a smarmy, know it all expression on his face, "Oh yeah."

Upset at once that Philadelphos didn't tell her that he had a wife, or a child on the way, she demanded, "Who is the mother?"

Ares grinned at her with all teeth showing, a decidedly evil expression when worn on his features. "Congratulations, Gabrielle!" He shouted, "You're gonna be a mommy!"

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2
 

Gabrielle stared at Ares a moment, stunned speechless by his outrageous claim.

Unable to endure him one second longer, she turned and started back to camp.

"Gabby! Look, like it or not I am telling the truth!" he insisted, "I am a god, I can sense these things!"

Without looking back, she threw a gesture at him that she only used on special occasions.

"Now, Gabrielle," he chided, "I would have expected something that crass from Xena, but never from you."

She slid to a stop and turned on him; "Philadelphos wouldn't harm his brother. He isn't a killer! He is a healer!"

"So you fell for his line." Ares rolled his eyes and in a mocking tone said, "Yes, I really love you, no it isn't contagious..by all the tombs of dead gods, women can be gullible."

"So what is in it for you, Ares?" She demanded, "You wouldn't lift a finger to help another living soul if there wasn't something in it for you."

"Now, that hurts." He deadpanned. "Could it be that I'm just protecting a friend?"

"A friend?" She threw an accusing finger his way. "You didn't even bother to pay your respects to Xena, you just intruded into my life. Well, your Warrior Princess is gone, so bug off! I don't need you, and I don't like you."

Dismissing him, she turned once again toward camp.

He disappeared in a twinkling, only to reappear in front of her, blocking her path. She halted, and glared at him.

"Exactly how should I have paid my respects to Xena? She's been dead so often that for awhile there I was starting to suspect she was immortal."

Sharply enunciating her words, she demanded, "Step aside."

He held out his hands, and at once Xena's sword materialized in them. The blade was encased in her black leather scabbard, the hilt polished to a high sheen.

Her mouth fell open. "Where did you find that?"

"I check up on you two when I am bored," and his tone hardened, "At least I used to. The last time I found Xena while she was burying her leathers, armor and this." He said of the sword. "Right before her kama kazi run into battle. After she died I went back for her stuff. I half expected to return it to her myself, but she went and stayed dead." with accusation, he added, "Thanks to you."

She hated him for stirring her guilty conscience. "I had no choice."

"Sure." He sneered, "You couldn't have, you know, `oooops' and accidentally (on purpose) dropped her ashes into the fountain."

"She died. We all die. If I had a choice, she'd be alive, but I didn't!"

The tears in her eyes drove him to an Ares style of contrition. He averted his gaze to the sword, shrugged, and presented it to her. "I was going to keep it, something to remember Xena by. Would you like it? Call it a peace offering."

As much as she hated him, she couldn't refuse Xena's sword. She took it from his hands as though it was a precious breakable.

"It can be a keepsake that you pass along to your kids." He added, the malicious glint returning to his eyes.

She gripped the hilt of the sword until her knuckles turned white, fighting the urge to run him through for good measure. "It isn't possible."

"Trust me, it is possible. Philadelphos is a man, you are a woman, you are both young and healthy, and," he winked at her, "active, if you know what I mean and I think you do......unless Xena neglected to tell you the facts of life, and if that is the case, I can fill in the blanks for you."

His personality was a torture; one moment he did something sensitive, the next he was too abrasive to endure. With a catch in her voice, she begged, "Stop it, Ares, stop it, please."

"When you are ready to face facts, just give me a call."

With that, he disappeared.

"I will never call on you!" She shouted after him.

Embracing Xena's sword as though it was a talisman that protected her from evil, she returned to the camp. She quietly retrieved her bag out of Philadelphos' tent, pausing briefly to gaze at the serene expression he wore in sleep. He anticipated her needs, finished her thoughts, shared her interests, and confessed his sins to her, just as she had confessed hers to him. He made her happy, so happy. But what if he did have an ulterior motive for seducing her?

Gabrielle hated Ares for infecting her with doubt.

By the glowing embers of the campfire, she sat to write. She had to write it all out, to get it straight in her own mind, though she acknowledged in print that there was nothing more confusing than loving someone, and fearing that he did not deserve her trust.

She lifted her quill, and ruminated over her last foray into motherhood. It was a disaster; leaving death and heartache in the wake of a child she loved so much, and in turn tried to kill not once, but on three separate occasions. An unnatural pregnancy given to her through a rape committed by the hands of a dark god.

Would it be less of a rape for her willingness if Philadelphos had lured her into loving him for the sole purpose of impregnating her? More so, a rape of her soul and her heart.

"He can't be like that." She decided. "No."

But her doubts compelled her to count the days backward, and with small, even strokes, she committed tally marks to the top of her scroll. They'd been in the desert for weeks. The time had passed quickly for Gabrielle.

The last tally mark was put in place with a slow, deliberate movement.

"Can't be."

And she recounted. And recounted. In frustration, she abandoned the scroll, furiously rolling it up and shoving it into her bag.

She turned her attention to Xena's sword. Touching it calmed her in the oddest way. She fastened it to Anemone's saddle, determined that she would never use the weapon. She wouldn't lose it, either. Touching the hilt, she grew wistful. Who would she pass her keepsake on to, if not her children?

"Already preparing to leave?" Philadelphos said, and he embraced her from behind.

She involuntarily stiffened under his touch, and he noticed. He released her, and viewed her quizzically.

"Feeling alright?"

She laughed off her discomfort, trying desperately to cover her apprehension. "I feel a bit off today."

Did she see suspicion in his eyes? Or was it just the awful reflection of her suspicion staring back at her?

"I woke and you were gone." He commented, "Where were you?"

"Writing." The truth was easier than a lie, and he accepted it without further question. Instead, he smiled at her, touching her hair, his expression softening for her, full of love. She did not see artifice in him, only truth and honor, two traits Ares couldn't even aspire to.

"Come. We should wake the others. Helios is waiting for us."

And yet her doubt remained.

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

Philadelphos lead them on a straight path over the shifting dunes of a barren desert. He did not need landmarks, or a map, or the stars to find his brother. Through the power of Ra, he was strongly connected to Helios, their thoughts pulling them together. In childhood, their bond kept them close to each other though they lived in different worlds.

Philadelphos told Gabrielle that he left Octavia's care to become a sailor in order to be closer on the physical plane to his brother and sister. Once he became the Captain of his own ship, Kuman became a regular stop on his trade route.

When Helios and Eve married, it was Philadelphos who informed Octavia of the union, at his brother's request. He, in turn, relayed Octavia's invitation to visit Rome with Eve. He'd transported the happy couple on the Nubian Night, never suspecting that assassins were aboard. One of the crewmen headed off the plot, and was killed in the ensuing struggle. After discovering Octavia's duplicity, Philadelphos transported his brother and Eve to Rosetta, and with the priests of Amon-Ra, took them next to Giza.

Gabrielle had accepted his version of the story without question, and would have continued to do so had Ares kept his nose out of her business. But now, as Philadelphos eagerly lead them to his brother, she wondered at his motive and his opportunity. How could the assassins board the Nubian Night without Philadelphos' knowledge? He would have to be an accessory. But why help Octavia? Unless he also had a vested interest in seeing the power of Ra passed on to the Roman Empire.

She looked around at the militia traveling with them, astride their camels and looking bored. All hired by Octavia. They were Egyptians, and Philadelphos had claimed that he'd handpicked them, and that their loyalty was with the Ptolemy.

"Am I gullible?" She muttered.

Eve asked her what she'd said, hearing only her voice. They were, again, in the middle of the caravan, side by side.

Gabrielle moved Anemone closer to Eve's horse. "The assassin that you caught on the Nubian Night," she started, and she eyed Eve, already wary of the answer that she expected to hear. "did you or Helios hear his confession?"

"Why?"

Gabrielle tried to smile, and shrugged. "Just curious."

"No, actually we never saw him. Philadelphos kept him in the hold until we reached Rosetta."

A cynic's laugh tore from Gabrielle. "Of course."

"What is it?"

"I am gullible."

"I don't understand."

"Eve, what do you know about Philadelphos?"

Eve threw her a teasing smile. "I imagine that by now you know more about him than I do."

Dismissing the playful reply, in a low voice she demanded, "What do you know of the ritual they must complete in order to banish the curse of Ptolemy?"

Her smile faded. "They must each shed blood." She said, her words halting, "and use their blood as an offering before Ra. Once the offering is made, Ra will remove the curse of godhood from their line."

The murderous ritual to bring up Dahak flashed through her mind, and chilled her to the bone. "A blood sacrifice."

"Helios assured me that no one will die."

"What if one brother kills the other?"

Shock widened her eyes. "Why would you suggest such a thing?"

"If it happened, what next?"

"Then the curse of Ra passes into the Emperor of Rome."

"What about the remaining Ptolemy?"

"My child? He will be normal."

Irritably, she countered, "I meant the surviving brother."

Eve did not understand her concern, and it was obvious she knew nothing of the loophole alluded to by Ares.

A whistle from the fore of the caravan announced that Helios had been sighted.

Gabrielle cast her eyes to the vast horizon, and saw a figure standing next to a camel on the top of a large dune. He was dressed in robes, his head covered, his face obscured to protect him from the sand that the midday breezes lifted from the desert floor.

He waved.

With unrestrained joy, Eve urged her horse into a gallop. Philadelphos watched her pass the caravan, whistling his approbation as she sped by, a smile creasing his features.

And he glanced backward at Gabrielle. His smile disappeared, replaced by a sober stare. Her stomach lurched as she realized that she'd not thought about the scope of his powers before questioning Eve.

"You heard everything, didn't you?" she whispered.

He turned away.

* * * * * * *

Alexander Helios closely resembled his father, so much so that for a moment Gabrielle thought she stood in Mark Antony's presence, but his differences were equally remarkable. His hair was hidden in a turban, he wore a beard, and robes; his appearance was reminiscent of Eli's. He and Eve seemed quite suited to each other, and though Gabrielle had come to question her own judgement of late, she could see how much they loved each other.

They turned to the east, for what Helios promised would only be a day's journey. Early in the afternoon the barren desert gave way to grasses and gatherings of palm trees, an indication that they were nearing the Nile, and Helios' camp.

Passing a heavily laden date palm, Gabrielle reached out and grabbed a handful of dates, dried on the vine. She ate hungrily, spitting the seeds out of her mouth with force in what became for her transient entertainment, as she tried each time to outdistance her last effort.

Finishing the last date, and spitting the pit as far as she could make it go, she was suddenly forced to slide off Anemone and drop to her knees to vomit.

Philadelphos was first at her side, his concern real.

"Here. Drink." And he gave her water. She sipped, and gagged.

"No thanks." She rebuffed, as he offered her more.

"We can stop, rest." Helios offered from the back of his camel.

"I'm fine."

Philadelphos offered an arm to help her up, which she refused.

"I'm fine, really." She insisted.

She caught the knowing eye of Eve. At once she feared Eve might suspect the truth. Glancing from the very pregnant Eve, to Helios, Gabrielle was struck by the danger that the truth posed in this situation.

"Bad dates." She insisted.

Eve accepted her explanation, but her knowing look did not disappear, even as she turned away to follow her husband back to the front of the caravan.

Philadelphos tried to take her arm, to help her onto the horse. She recoiled from his touch.

"What have I done, Gabrielle?" he asked, his tone pleading, "You've been cold to me all day."

The ache in her gut that until now she had only associated with losing Xena, wrenched her with guilt and loss for distrusting Philadelphos.

"The caravan is moving." She replied simply.

She mounted her horse, and without casting a backward glance, caught up to Eve. The gallop excited Anemone, as did the smell of moisture moving in the Nile's breezes, and she allowed her restless and thirsty horse to run on ahead a bit. Anything to put a little distance between her and Philadelphos.

Shortly before sunset, they reached the rise that stood over their campsite. Tents were mounted in an orderly way around a crook shaped inlet, and beyond the lush growth surrounding the inlet was the shimmering waters of the Nile. Gabrielle could see for miles in both directions. A step pyramid could be seen to the south of them, and in the north, on the river, there were ships.

"Men of War." She commented, nodding in the direction of the ships.

Helios and Eve followed her gaze.

"Octavia must have had us followed." Philadelphos commented, worried, and shading his eyes he said, "The Nubian Night is among them. My crew."

Gabrielle felt his worry, and before she could shut down her empathic connection to her lover, she knew his mind. He'd left a meager crew on the Nubian Night, and instructed his first mate to join them down river after the Vernal Equinox.

"Do you think they were taken by force?" she asked, and she looked at him, suddenly doubtful that force was used to take the Nubian Night. "Or could there have been traitors aboard?"

"No. No traitors. They weren't pirates, they were seafarers."

No traitors, and yet treachery surrounded Philadelphos at every turn.

"Why would a navy take a trade ship? The Nubian Night wasn't equipped for war."

"Exactly what are you implying?" Philadelphos demanded.

Gabrielle shook her head, unwilling to voice her suspicions before Eve and Helios. She brought Anemone about, putting her back to Philadelphos, and to Helios said, "You go on to the camp. I'll catch up."

Sensing that Gabrielle was going to investigate the navy laying in wait up river, Eve said, "I'll go with you."

Gabrielle couldn't help but smile at Eve. She had a fearless streak in her, like her mother. Even heavy laden with child, a warrior thoroughly tamed by the teachings of Eli, Eve's eyes still brightened at the prospect of intrigue.

"No. I want you to stay with Helios. Take care of that baby."

"I agree." Helios chimed pointedly.

"I won't be long. I just want to see whose banner they are flying. That is all."

Eve relented, biting her lip. "Be careful."

Gabrielle urged Anemone north on the ridge. Behind her, the caravan started down the slope to the inlet oasis. She thought herself alone, until she heard Philadelphos aside of her, urging his camel into a loping gallop. She sensed that no amount of argument would compel him to turn around and leave her to her business. She threw a narrow look his way, and veered Anemone off the path, plunging her down a sandy slope.

Once under the cover of trees, she quickly dismounted and pulled Anemone under the low hanging branches of an acacia, where she waited. Not long after, Philadelphos' camel trotted by - without Philadelphos.

She heard movement. Quick movement, the type of movement she'd seen him use against her on the Nubian Night. This time she was prepared. As he came through the brush behind her, she fell back, and went under Anemone to her other side, emerging behind Philadelphos. She tapped him on the shoulder.

And as he turned, she put the pinch on him.

He stiffened and fell to one knee, gagging.

"I've just cut off the blood to your brain. You have 30 seconds to live." she told him, repeating the introduction to the pinch Xena often used on her victims, and anger welled up inside her for being forced to use violence against someone she loved. She bared her teeth and demanded, "Are you aligned with Octavia against your brother?"

"No."

"Damn it, you have to tell me the truth!" she shouted, her anger turning to tears. "Don't you understand? The truth!"

"-is the truth - now." he croaked.

"So you were aligned with her at one time?"

"Yes."

"Why are there war ships out there?"

"I don't know."

"Did you instruct your crew to bring them here?"

"No!"

She dropped to her knees, looking into his face. "I want to believe you."

"Believe me." He choked.

"I want to." she whispered. and she framed his face with both hands. "I want you to be innocent. I want to trust you."

Blood streamed from his nose, his ears, and his eyes beseeched her "Why?" but it wasn't a question at all, but a plea. Why had she turned against him? Why recoil from his touch?

Confused, and unable to watch him suffer any longer, she removed the pinch. He fell backward, gasping for air.

She stood, pacing around to his back. Looking at his bent form, she said, "When you went to Kuman to pick up Helios and Eve, you knew about the assassin that was aboard your ship from the beginning."

Philadelphos caught his breath, and sat on his heels, rocking slightly.

"You did, didn't you!" she demanded.

"I did." He relented.

Sick inside, she paced around to look down at his face.

"Tell me everything." She ordered.

Philadelphos stood, wiping the blood off his upper lip. Anger tinted his face a darker shade of brown, and his green eyes sharpened.

"I have already told you enough!" he insisted, "I've already confessed to you that I behaved as a coward before the gods," and he gestured to her, "and before the woman I love. Must I confess myself a coward again to earn absolution?"

She put her hand to her forehead, feeling her softer side relenting, though she feared becoming more vulnerable than she already felt with Philadelphos. "I don't like being lied to."

Eyes bright with desperation, he said, "The truth? The truth is," and his voice dropped low as he continued, "Claudius promised Syria to me for the delivery of my brother into Octavia's hands."

Gabrielle softly wept.

"Octavia hired the assassin. I hired him as a mate aboard the Nubian Night." Averting his eyes, he said, "I almost let it happen. But in the final hour I found I couldn't let the political schemes of selfish men and women kill my brother. So I killed the assassin before he could do his job. I told Helios of the plot, but unable to confess myself before my brother, I told him that I had extracted the information I knew from the assassin's partner."

"In truth, you were the assassin's partner."

He acknowledged her comment with a sober nod. "I returned to Octavia and told her that her hired killer had left the ship at Kuman, and never returned. When she told me that I would be transporting you directly to Helios, I assumed you were another hired assassin."

Recalling their tussle on the Nubian Night, she decided that he was finally telling her the whole truth.

Sensing in her a relenting, he leaned closer to her, looking deeply into her face. "Last night, you said you knew my heart. Today, you shun me. Please, if you are going to reject my love, do it honorably. Don't play games."

She wiped her tears with the palms of her hands, noticing now that it was difficult to reign in her emotions.

"I discovered something this morning." She said, and though her mind turned to the tally marks on her scroll, she demurred, "I found out about a catch in the ritual to remove the curse, and it bothers me. It makes me wonder about your motives."

He waited, curiosity softening the anguish that lined his face.

"I've learned that it is possible for a Ptolemy with an heir to retain his godhood, even if he is not ruling Egypt at the time of his child's birth."

His expression did not change, though sadness took the light out of his eyes. "You are speaking of a spell called Soter's Sacrifice."

"You know of it?"

"Of course." and the bitterness entered his features, "You believe I plan to kill Helios."

"Do you?"

"Even if I could fulfill Soter's Sacrifice, I wouldn't. The consequences are too great. And as you may have already surmised," he frowned, "I do not desire to see my brother dead."

"You say you can't fulfill Soter's Sacrifice," and she hesitated before asking, "Why?"

"I'd have to take the life of a lesser male heir, meaning I would have to be the elder brother. I am the lesser heir, after Helios. If I were to kill him, it wouldn't work. He is not my heir." His manner filled with the mocking sarcasm that she'd once found infuriating. "If you need confirmation of this, feel free to consult with Mahji. He is the head priest of Amon-Ra, and though he has an aversion to women, he may answer your questions concerning the ritual. Especially if you," and he held up his fingers as she had when she put the pinch on him.

"If you killed Helios, Claudius would become a god."

"If I wanted to make that pompous ass a god, I would have killed my brother on the Nubian Night when I had a chance. Tell me, Gabrielle, why would I go to this much trouble just to kill him? I hate camels, and I hate desert travel." He cocked his brow, challenging her to find fault in his logic.

Her instinct, which had fared her well in many a dangerous situation, urged her to renew her trust in him, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to reveal her most intimate secret. Not yet.

"I believe you."

His relief washed away his sarcasm. "Tell me, Gabrielle, why did we take this painful journey?"

"To get to the truth." An idea occurred to her. "And we will, tonight. Will you help me?"

"Tell me what to do."

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

Gabrielle waited until dark to make her way to the edge of the water. The ships were gathered loosely across the wide expanse of the Nile, anchored and waiting, at least a dozen that she could see. They did not bear banners, but she saw a centurion aboard the ship nearest to the shore where she stood.

Under the cover of night, she waded into the water and feeling the depths increase, she took a deep breath and let herself sink. With clean strokes, she swam silently to the closest ship, and reaching the rudder oar, she broke to the surface of the water. Visually, her goal looked impossible, but she did not allow limited thinking to intrude on her now. Her goal was to get aboard this ship, and she was determined to do so. She took hold of the wide blade of the oar and pulled herself out of the water. The blade was slippery, but able to hold her weight as she climbed, hand over hand, to the shaft. Standing on the top of the blade, her hands around the shaft, she looked up. The deck rail was four foot out of her reach. She closed her eyes, and vividly visualized her feet landing on the deck. Willing strength enough to make the leap to reach the railing, she launched herself off the blade. She grabbed hold of the railing, and pushed herself up and over. Landing softly on the deck, she crouched, disappearing into the shadows.

Her stealthy movements in the darkness looming across the deck went unnoticed by the Centurion on guard duty. She trotted quietly to the bow of the ship, pausing a moment to search the waters below. Seeing what looked like floating rocks, she grabbed a rope from the sails, and jumped overboard. The rope's length took her nearly to the water's surface before snapping tight.

The floating rocks grew eyes and looked at her as if she were a worm on a hook. They were harmless, as long as they were left alone, which she had no intention of doing. She dropped onto the slippery back of one of the bulky beasts, and once regaining her balance, she used them as steppingstones. She'd disturbed them well enough to cause them to move, en masse, in the water; to sink or swim away or turn on her with open jaws that displayed their prominent canines as a warning. She had to be quick. She had once seen a herd of these animals destroy a reed boat that had invaded their waters. They were grass eaters, but would kill to protect their group. She flipped over the open maw of a beast, and onto the sinking back of another, quickly leaping to yet another moving target, and from the middle of that back, leapt onto the back of another. She continued on until her path disappeared entirely. From the sinking back of the last beast left at the water's surface, she ran and jumped at a knotted rope dangling off the port bow of the Nubian Night. Her heart racing, her mind on fire with the excitement of what she'd just accomplished, she climbed the rope.

On board Philadelphos' ship, she crept into the captain's quarters. The cabin should have been empty, but there was a person in the bed, sleeping. She moved closer, trying to see the face of the man who'd commandeered the Nubian Night.

The air stirred behind her and in a movement too fast for her to detect until it was too late, a lantern was lit. Light filled the cramped space, illuminating the man in the bed. It was the first mate of the Nubian Night, who was dead, eyes wide and staring.

She knew the identity of the intruder before spinning to face him.

"Helios."

Helios stared intently at her, as if trying to decide what to do with her. Behind him was a priest garbed in red silk and an expensive black wig.

"You must understand, I cannot help that my family has cursed us."

"You planned to murder Philadelphos all along." She accused.

"Murder is repugnant to me, but I had to choose between the lesser of two evils." He held out his hands in a gesture of peace, "Gabrielle, the son of Claudius is destined to be a destroyer. Not a great man, not a conqueror, but a waste of flesh, and a waste of blood. If he becomes a god, then he will destroy Egypt with his stupidity, his greed. I can't allow that to happen."

"Then perform the ritual without bloodshed." She pleaded, "Remove the curse, and the power of Ra, and leave Philadelphos unharmed."

The priest glanced at Helios, brow raised.

"There is no such ritual, is there." She realized.

"How could I tell my brother that he is to be sacrificed to appease a god he doesn't venerate?"

"He should have a choice."

"And if he chooses not to die, then my child must be sacrificed." Angry, he shook his finger at her, "You cannot judge me! You do not understand the difficulty of my decision!"

"I understand all to well the agony of sacrificing a loved one for the greater good." She retorted, "It must be Philadelphos' choice, too! Or then it is just murder."

"There is no choice to be made, Gabrielle."

Helios turned aside toward the priest. "Lock her in the hold, and inform my men to keep a watch. We will set her free after the ceremony is complete."

She had to get to Philadelphos and warn him. Gabrielle glanced toward the door, then to the men blocking the door. One a god, too amazingly fast to outrun. One an ordinary man. A quick calculation, and she removed the chakram from her hip and heaved it toward Helios. He possessed the powers of a god, yes, but he had lived as an ordinary man too long, and he reacted like an ordinary man. He did as she hoped, and ducked to avoid being struck by the spinning weapon. Gabrielle back flipped onto the bed, tucked and rotated forward to land on the table in the center of the cabin. The chakram ricocheted off the four walls all around her, and she moved within its boundaries as though it were her aura. She dove from the table, twisting in midair in order to land on her feet, facing the backs of Helios and the priest, and once her feet were firmly planted, she reached out and plucked the chakram from its course.

She ran.

The futility of running from a god might have occurred to her if she hadn't been focused on Philadelphos, on needing to save his life. She dashed across the deck and jumped for the waters below. The living rocks, the beasts, had reappeared on the surface, but widely dispersed. She braced herself for the water, and landed instead on a beast's back. It let out a bellow, which woke the entire herd. She couldn't find secure footing, and slid off his back right into the waiting jaws of his mate.

Events slowed to an impossible crawl. She saw her leg sliding into the gaping maw of the beast, and at the same time, caught a glimpse of what seemed to be an angel descend to pluck her out of harm's way. Her arms and legs grew heavier with each passing moment, until she was unable to move, talk, react. She was flown to the shore and gently placed on the ground.

She looked up at her angel, and it was Mahji.

He knelt down before her and stared intently into her face. "I've met you as a child. I've met you as an old woman. You have many faces, and in dreams I have seen them all. And I have seen you reunited," and he put his hand to the chakram at her side, "with the one you love most."

The slowness of events turned, and now everything around her moved faster, too fast for her to comprehend. She understood two things. She was not going to be a beast's meal, and the priest just promised her the impossible.

A pale figure flew in at them from the darkness hovering above the water. Helios landed next to Mahji.

"Take her back to the ship. She'll be no more trouble tonight."

"As you wish."

Helios disappeared into the night, landing on the ground and walking away from them as though nothing extraordinary had happened.

Mahji looked again into her eyes. "I follow a higher authority than Ptolemy." And he smiled into her eyes.

Gabrielle tried to scramble away, only to be scooped off the ground by Mahji's hands and pulled toward the sky. She cried out, and covered her eyes. The flight pulled her stomach into her throat, and left her dizzy. By the time they landed, she was disoriented, and felt drugged.

Mahji released her waist, allowing her to crumple to the ground. He raised his hands above his head and shouted a chant in Egyptian that she didn't understand. The earth around them began to move, and Gabrielle struggled to push herself up in order to see what was happening.

Before them, a stepped pyramid was opening, the top layers sliding away from the foundation mastaba. An opening became obvious, and as soon as it was big enough for them to pass through, Mahji pulled her to her feet and half carried her down the steps.

There were no lanterns, no torches, and yet light emerged from out of the shadows, seeming to follow them as they descended a narrow and sloping passage, deep into the earth. The passage opened into a huge cavern the size of an arena.

They passed through a corridor lined with finely etched pillars, and into an expansive temple. Gabrielle tried to take in the sight of the ancient temple, buried in sand for centuries and made to look like yet another tomb in Saqqara, but found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"You will become accustomed to being in the presence of Ra very soon." Mahji said, as if hearing her wish that she could wake fully.

He walked her quickly past a long and wide pool, which Gabrielle understood was the Sacred Lake.

Mahji said softly, "Yes. You will know soon."

Beyond the lake was the Oracle of Amon-Ra. The priest lay her before the statue, a smaller version of the sphinx that stands protectively over the pharaohs' tombs in Giza. Mahji bent to look into her face.

"Do not fear, Gabrielle. Very soon it will be over." And Mahji smiled, "And it will begin again."

She tried to reach out to him, to beg him not to leave her alone in the subterranean temple, but he left her anyway. The light followed him out, leaving her in darkness for a time. Her arms and legs sluggish, she was unable to act on her panic as she heard the top of the pyramid closing.

Soon after, she saw the light returning, moving languidly along the edge of the water, and then it was all around her, keeping her company. Giving her comfort. Calming her fears.

Lulling her to sleep.

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

"The astrologers believe that the most auspicious night for the ritual would be two nights hence."

Helios eyed his brother as he responded to the priest, "If Mahji agrees, then we will take the date your astrologers have chosen."

The priest bowed, and departed.

"I've given my consent." Philadelphos said angrily, "Tell me where she is."

"She is safe." Helios replied with a smile, "No harm will come to Gabrielle, or the child she carries."

Philadelphos averted his eyes, unable to hide his terror for Gabrielle. "You're mad."

"Yes," Helios admitted, "the visions I've had of the future, of the destroyer, the one they will someday call Nero, have driven me mad. My children will not survive in that world, and neither will yours, if we do not take action to prevent his coming."

"War against Rome," Philadelphos replied, "it will bring destruction to our own people."

"No, my war is not against Rome. It is against a boy who will inherit powers that he does not deserve. I can feel that we are in agreement, Philadelphos. I know that you do not want the son of Claudius to inherit the power of Ra. We are connected, always."

"Why forced me into an agreement by threatening Gabrielle and our," and with the same astonishment he'd expressed when he'd heard the news, he continued, "child?"

"I know your nature, my brother. You would not have consented to the sacrifice without being encouraged. You are too much a coward."

Hearing his brother judge him as harshly as he usually judged himself stung his pride. He cast a dour glare at Helios, and stalked out of the tent.

Ares appeared at Helios' side. "Your brother is too loyal for his own good. Reminds me of my pesky little brother. Always doing the right thing. Annoying."

Helios turned a scowl at Ares. "You promised that I would not have to murder my own brother in the sacrifice."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "I did my best with Gabrielle. Had her there, too, for awhile. But that maternal instinct is strong voodoo. Makes even the most pathetic loser look damned good in their eyes."

"I cannot murder my own brother." Helios lamented.

"And speaking of cowards." Ares said pointedly.

"For Eve, I took a vow of peace."

Ares mocked the sound and motion of a whip.

Exasperated, he said, "How can I expect the God of War to understand?"

"There is a solution." Ares grinned at him, "Allow me to do the honors."

Hope brightened Helios' eyes. "You could be my proxy. Mahji could bless you as a priest of Ra."

"Let him know that I refuse to wear a loin cloth and shave my head." He moved in closer and put his arm around Helios' shoulders. "We do understand one another, don't we? When I kill your brother, you are beholden to me. In fact, you will owe me big time."

"I will give you anything you want, so long as blood does not stain my hands."

"Then we have a deal."

* * * * * * * *

 

Gabrielle felt buoyant. Her head, shoulders and torso floated in the air, her feet left to lightly touch the stone floor. Movement opened her eyes, and she looked up to see the ornate carvings on the ceiling begin to move, telling a story in quick images that seemed alive. It told the story of Alexander the Great's visit to the Oracle of Amon-Ra. His favorite general by his side, he paid his respects to Amon-Ra, and was rewarded by a message from the god that proclaimed him a Son. Alexander believed the message was for him, and he left the temple victoriously, though the god had not spoken to him at all, but to his general. His general was destined to be Soter the 1st, the first Ptolemy.

The beginnings of the curse of Ra seemed more in line with the stories she'd heard about Zeus' womanizing, resulting in the birth of Hercules, as well as other half-god, half-mortal beings. Soter was a human son of Ra. Beloved by all the gods.

The images on the ceiling stilled, and the story faded from her mind. She was only partially aware of her surroundings, becoming increasingly entranced by the bright light all around her. She knew she was being carried, or at least felt like she was being carried, though there were no hands on her. Abruptly she felt water on her back. Briefly, she was submerged. Before her air ran out, she was brought back to the surface. She took a long, deep cleansing breath.

The hands she could not see carried her to a small, private space and lay her on a stone dais. The walls and ceiling here were white stone, unadorned, unmarked. The light was all around her, and hovering about her were ghostly apparitions. They had form, in that she could see their outline, as though they were the opposite of shadows, an echo of the light. Oil was poured on her nude body, and it was here she realized she was nude, and the hands massaged the oil thoroughly into her skin, paying close attention to her face and her hair. The smell of the oil was pleasant, and familiar. Frankincense and sandalwood. Her entire body tingled under their touch and her relaxation was complete.

The apparitions departed. Alone, and in her relaxed state, her mind wandered to past friends. Their faces hovered above her, their eyes looking into her eyes. Joxer. Perdicus. Eli. And Xena.

Her longing for Xena compelled her to raise her arm, to reach for the mirage. And just as she touched Xena's face, it disappeared. The light disappeared. Gabrielle was plunged into the relative darkness of candlelight, awake, alert, and strengthened.

She sat up, and noted her nudity, and the oil coating her body. Her clothing lay at her feet. She slid off the dais and quickly dressed. Her memory of what had happened to her in the temple was fuzzy. The dais looked too much like an altar, and reminded her too keenly of Dahak's altar.

Bad memories aside, part of her knew that nothing unseemly had happened to her in the temple. The idea of ritual cleansing came to mind, and she wondered how she could come to such a conclusion.

She replaced her sais into her boots, the chakram on her side, and froze. Xena's sword lay nearby. Last she saw it, it was still tied to Anemone's saddle. She picked it up, noting that the scabbard's leather smelled of the same oil that had been rubbed into her skin. Trying not to think of what that might mean, she bore the sword on her back, grabbed the candle from off the wall, and made her way out of the preparation room.

 

* * * * * * *

The priests prepared him by bathing his body and anointing him with oil. He was not permitted to walk to the altar, and was carried on a litter by eight priests, four each holding a side.

The temple altar was a slightly raised platform that bore the large, inlaid form of an ankh. He was placed in the eye, his legs and arms positioned to perfection.

Mahji knelt by his side, smiling. Though he was afraid of the priest, Mahji's smile had a calming effect.

The priest said, "Amon-Ra does not require sacrifice. Nor does he will it."

"If I have a choice, then I choose to live." Philadelphos retorted.

"Amon-Ra will protect you in death, and in life."

Philadelphos took that to mean that the sacrifice would happen regardless of Amon-Ra's will. He closed his eyes, refusing to look into the calm face of the priest. He sensed his brother was coming. Mahji ordered the priests, his underlings, to depart. A moment later, he welcomed Helios and Eve into the temple.

A dark man appeared above Philadelphos, who he immediately recognized as Ares, god of war from statues that had been erected in all throughout Greece and Rome. Ares held a dagger in his hand, and wore a grin on his face.

Eve rushed forward, holding her pregnant belly. "Ares! Get away from him!"

She didn't seem to notice her husband's restraining arm on her elbow.

Ares said to Philadelphos, "Just so you know, your brother is a bigger coward than you."

And with that, Ares swooped down on him and plunged the dagger into his heart.

 

* * * * * * *

 

The corridor was long, and dark. Wax burnt her hands as it dripped from the candle, and she cursed it, switching it from hand to hand as she searched for an outlet. Just as she began to wonder if she'd been trapped forever in this place, this tomb, she found an opening leading to the sacred lake.

She paused by the water's edge, and remembered her ritual bath.

Voices coming from where the Oracle stood brought her to attention. She could hear the muffled sounds of two, or more, people speaking. As she started toward the sound, a louder, clearer voice echoed above the sacred lake. The language spoken was Egyptian, and the sing song tone bespoke of an incantation. She recognized this voice.

"Mahji."

She followed the sounds to the Oracle. The stone figure was askew, and revealed a recess in the floor and set of steps. Without hesitation, she descended into the temple proper.

She heard them more clearly, though the echo was distracting. Arguing. Two voices, both familiar. Helios and Ares. A woman in the background, pleading. Eve.

Without thinking, she drew Xena's sword.

The light that Gabrielle remembered (dreamlike) seeing as she was laid before the Oracle of Amon-Ra filled the temple proper, and the walls and floors shone as if fire lived inside the blue stone that made them. Statues of all the Ptolemaic rulers lined both sides of the temple, between columns. The altar, nearly flush with the marble floor, was at the far end of the temple. Philadelphos lay on the altar, nude, a stream of his blood running down the side of the altar and pooling on the floor below.

Ares was saying, "I never promised you that it would work. I just promised that your hands wouldn't get dirty. That is what you wanted. Am I right?"

Eve intoned, shocked and weeping, "Helios, if only you'd confided in me I could have warned you not to trust Ares."

"The sacrifice was for the greater good." Helios uttered, stunned, "For the greater good." he continued, trying to convince himself that he was right.

Ares cocked a brow toward the priest. "Mahji, let him in on our little secret, will you?"

Mahji said, "Soter's Sacrifice can only be sealed by the death of a Ptolemy, exacted by the hands of a Ptolemy."

Screeching at the priest, Helios retorted, "You have condemned Egypt!"

"By the will of Amon-Ra."

As if she were alone in the temple, Gabrielle started toward Philadelphos, unable to tear her eyes away from the bloody wound in his chest. Her presence was first noted by Mahji, who, with a purposeful step, retreated behind a column.

The remaining three noticed her as she went by them. Eve was the first to react, rushing to her to grab her arms. "No, Gabrielle, you mustn't."

She shook off Eve's hands, and exploded in a fury. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen!"

Helios, as if in apology for her loss, held out his hands and said, "It was for the greater good." His control collapsed, and he wept bitterly.

"Selfish man!" she spouted at Helios, "You took him away from me to be a god. I could kill you for what you've done!"

"No!" Eve put herself between Helios and Gabrielle, "Helios does not have the power anymore. It has gone to Claudius and his heir."

"I don't understand. I don't,"

"Helios didn't kill his brother." Ares interjected smugly, "A little requirement in the ritual of Soter's Sacrifice, the only way it will work, is if a family member performs the deed."

Looking into Eve's eyes, afraid to know the truth. "Who killed Philadelphos?"

"I did." Ares admitted, and he laughed.

Blinded by fury, Gabrielle brushed Eve aside and attacked Ares with Xena's sword. A sword appeared in Ares' hand, and he deftly deflected her attack, blow by blow. That he was a god bested only by Xena, immortal and impervious to physical harm, did not sway her from trying to kill him. Their blades rang in the temple, the echo of each blow overlapping the last until the cacophony was unbearable. Helios and Eve fell back, finding each other, huddling in a corner to watch.

Gabrielle backed Ares into a statue, and their blades locked at the hilt.

"You've improved." Ares commended.

"If I could kill you I would." She hissed.

Satisfaction was in his grin. "Blood lust really turns me on, baby."

With a cry of frustration, she pushed out of their locked position to put distance between them. Ares fell back and toppled the statue.

"I bet that was expensive." He quipped.

Gabrielle renewed her attack, swinging the sword with strength and expertise. Even as she was in the midst of combat, the surreal notion that Xena was with her, directing her through her sword, crossed her mind. The notion only made her more aggressive, fearless, and indomitable.

Ares retreated, defending himself, following an irregular path that seemed to have no destination until they reached the altar. On the edge of the anhk, Ares did a high and long back flip, landing on the other side.

Gabrielle would not step over her dead lover to cross the altar. She stalked around the ankh head, chasing Ares as he retreated by walking in the same direction.

"You can't hurt me." Ares chided, "You can't kill me. This is a real waste of time. Besides, I did you a favor."

"You are a twisted bastard, Ares!"

"Say what you like. You'll know I am right, soon enough."

She saw Mahji out of the corner of her eye, but he was moving too fast for her to react to his approach. He held a bowl in one hand, and a dagger in the other. He cut her forearm, and caught the stream of blood in the bowl. She swung the sword in his direction, but he was gone before the sword split the air.

Standing in the center of the altar, Mahji began singing an incantation, and he poured her blood into Philadelphos' chest wound.

The air grew heavy, and a low thrumming sound caused a complete silence to descend upon the temple. Intense light poured down on Mahji and Philadelphos. Gabrielle watched as the gaping and bloody wound closed. His eyes fluttered and he took a long, deep breath.

She rushed to him, and grabbed hold of his hand. "My love."

Seeing her, terror filled his features. "Run Gabrielle." He demanded weakly, "Run!"

Her happiness that he was alive was short lived. Ares lunged at her, grabbing her by both arms, and he dragged her backwards toward a second shaft of light, descending from the open mouth of a likeness of the Oracle carved in the ceiling.

"Trust me. You will thank me for this."

And he threw her into the light.

Gabrielle stumbled as Ares released her, falling onto her knees on the hard temple floor. Furious with him, she sprang to her feet and spun around to confront him.

A gasp escaped her lips as she noticed many things at once. She was no longer in the temple. She was on a road that was flanked by trees. It looked like Greece. It was cool outside, not hot. And Ares was no longer with her.

"Are you alright? What, you trip over your own feet?"

Xena stood before her, Argos' reigns in her hands. Amusement twinkled in her vivid blue eyes.

"Xena." Gabrielle whispered, astonished.

Xena cocked a brow. "Expecting someone else?"

 

Chapter 3

 

"Xena." Gabrielle repeated, disbelief suspending the happiness she felt in seeing her in the flesh.

"Yeah?" Xena prompted a bit impatiently.

Gabrielle took in her surroundings again. As she turned her head, she felt the length of her hair shush across her back. She reached to take a golden lock in between two fingers, and felt it was long, as it had been before she and Xena had confronted Alti in India. She looked down at herself. She wore a simple frock, a blue and white dress that her mother had made for her when she was a young woman.

"It is an illusion." She realized, but touching the material it seemed very real.

"What is?" the doppelganger Xena replied.

"Or a dream."

She took Xena's hand in hers, and turned it up to caress the palm. The skin felt warm, unlike the cold and stiff hand of the headless body she had fought for, and won from the Samurai warrior that had killed Xena. She shuddered at the memory of gathering together body and head, an outrage that sickened her still, and she gripped the warm, living hand tighter.

"You are not real." She reminded herself, and she could have wept for the truth.

"Gabrielle, what are you talking about?" Irritation crossed her brow, sparked in her blue eyes. "I am as real as can be."

Gabrielle shook her head, and laughed unsteadily. "We are in a place and time I've wished for many times since your death. A return to our innocence" She glanced upward, "Ares must have thrown me into Illusia. All we're missing is the song and dance, and the snappy musical accompaniment. What about it Ares?" she shouted toward the sky, wryly demanding, "How about a song?"

Ares did not respond.

Xena looked around, a light scowl on her lips. "So you worship the god of war, do you? I would have figured you as an Athena worshipper."

"You do look like Xena." She went on to the apparition, and she tenderly tucked Xena's hair behind an ear. "You sound like her. But I bet you don't know what she knew. I bet you don't have her memories." And she cupped Xena's face into the palm of her hand. "I bet you don't remember Akemi."

Xena looked perplexed. "What's an Akemi?"

Gabrielle smiled at her and at herself for this wish made flesh; that Xena had never met Akemi.

"But I don't want to live with an illusion." She told the false Xena.

Her surroundings changed. The Greek countryside turned to stone. A temple grew up around her, and it looked similar to the Temple of Amon-Ra, except that it was no longer deep in the ground. Sun blazed through the open spaces between the columns. The faded Lapis Lazuli tiles that made the ankh under her feet turned vibrantly blue, and looked brand new.

Xena's image faded more slowly, fading like a memory.

"Okay, Ares." Gabrielle demanded, thoroughly irritated that he could torment her, imagining he did so with utter glee. "I've had enough of the games."

"Ares is not here."

Reluctant, she acknowledged the men in the temple with her. She recognized Mahji, and though his appearance hadn't altered, he looked very different. Younger, perhaps, though his age hadn't changed so far as her eye could see.

The man standing next to Mahji had been the one to speak, and he smiled at her now, an expression that made his already beautiful features luminous. His elegant appearance reminded her of statues she'd seen of the ancient Pharaohs. He wore a knee length pleated skirt made of purple dyed linen and tied off with a belt woven from gold thread, and a matching headpiece that flowed down his back. His chest and arms were bare, exposing a well-muscled body and golden brown skin that radiated good health. He wore jeweled armlets, bracelets, anklets and a several strings of lapis lazuli beads around his neck. His large eyes were accented with kohl black lines very much like the markings around the eye of Ra that she'd seen decorating the friezes in the temple of the Oracle.

"Welcome to my home, Gabrielle."

She stepped off the altar, uncertainty working in her features. He had a subduing affect, and she found it difficult to pull her eyes out of his magnetic gaze. "Who the Hades are you?"

His amusement deepened, and his eyes sparkled. To Mahji, he said, "She is forthright."

"She is also a skeptic." Mahji replied to him.

"They were all skeptics in the beginning." He countered, and he turned his gaze on her while still speaking to his companion, "I've made a good choice in this one."

His vibrant warmth shone like the sun around him, casting a peaceful feeling on Gabrielle. It was like.........and with clarity, she finally remembered the temple of Amon-Ra caring for her, and the peace she felt as it prepared her for a sacrifice that had been reversed at the last minute.

Thoughts of the sacrifice quickly turned her mind from the many questions she had, toward another pressing concern.

"Where are the others? Where is Philadelphos?"

He smiled briefly, and bowed slightly toward her. "You speak of one who will not be born for more than 3000 years."

That was enough to break the spell of his magnetic beauty. She rolled her eyes, assuming she was being duped. "Okay, Ares!" she shouted, "I am not amused! I demand that you answer my call! Now!"

"Ares will not know you, and cannot answer your call." he informed her. "He is but a babe, suckling at Hera's breast."

Gabrielle laughed at the thought of Ares as a baby. "Now, that is something I would love to see."

Her surroundings changed, engulfing her in a vision of Olympus. In a courtyard near where Gabrielle stood, the Goddess Hera lounged in a black velvet settee, a squiggling infant in her arms. Gabrielle's breath caught in her throat, a sound that alerted Hera to her presence. Noting Gabrielle, Hera's merciless pale blue eyes narrowed, and she shifted in her seat.

Gabrielle discerned that Hera posed no immediate threat to her, but instead seemed to present her infant to for inspection. Gabrielle stared with wonder on the face of a sweet baby with a thatch of dark hair crowning his head. Without thinking, she said, "He looks so innocent."

"We are all born innocent." Hera replied, and her ice blue eyes returned Gabrielle's direct gaze. "Even you were born innocent, Gabrielle."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course. All the gods of Olympus felt your arrival." Hera's brows spiked, amusement turning her fine features dangerous. "Your intrusion comes at a most opportune time. The birth of my son. Be warned, Gabrielle, I do not suffer threats kindly. Perhaps I should pay you a visit after the birth of your child?"

Discomforted by Hera's anger, she replied, "I'm no threat to you."

"I know your fate," Hera said, her smooth tone conveying spite, "as do you. My son is destined to destroy the gods of Egypt as all of Olympus watches. I will quite enjoy watching you die with them, my dear."

Knowing Hera's ultimate fate emboldened Gabrielle to laugh. "Doubtful."

Hera's amusement fled, sharpening her unnatural looking eyes. "Return to your father, little girl. Or I will make an example of you and send you back in pieces."

"Father?" Gabrielle countered, confused, and as if waking from a dream that she could but vaguely recall in touches on the corners of her mind, she understood briefly Hera's inference.

She figured it was the will of Hera that returned her to the pristine Temple and to the presence of the beautiful one who resided within.

"Who exactly are you?" she demanded of him.

He replied, "Perhaps you'd rather know who you are?"

"I know who I am." She asserted angrily, though anxiety swept her from head to toe. She felt close to a realization that she could not accept, and did not wish to accept.

"Gabrielle de Poteidaia," he intoned softly, "bard, warrior, Amazon Queen."

"Yes," she whispered, and she shook her head, denying there was more to be known, more to be uncovered.

He gestured out through the columns. "Come with me, Gabrielle.

He left her, expecting her to follow. She watched as he descended the steps, until he was out of her site. She turned to Mahji to question him, and faltered. He was gone. She was alone in the temple.

She hesitated a moment, and once she chose to follow the enigmatic stranger, she did so with swift, sure steps.

She faltered once again as she emerged through the columns. The scene before her was as beautiful as it was unreal. The temple was the highest point of the complex, and far below was a courtyard. She recognized the Sacred Lake in the center of the courtyard, and beyond was the Oracle of Amon-Ra. Along the edges of the water, and on the edges of the courtyard, grew grass and palms, foliage she might expect to see along the Nile, but beyond the edges of the courtyard lay a starry sky, not a desert, no infinite horizon of sand. The sky extended above and around, deeply blue, nearly black and speckled with stars, and yet the grounds were brightly lit, as though the midday sun shone directly into the waters.

She started down the hundreds of steps leading to the courtyard, and though a slight apprehension for the height gripped her stomach she couldn't help but glance back to the stars, again and again. She'd never seen anything quite as beautiful as this sky. Joining him by the lake, she burst with questions. "Where are we? What is this place? Why do the stars seem so close?"

He held up a hand to beg her patience, his ever-present smile warming to fondness for her. "Look here for answers." He beckoned, and he waved his hand toward the lake. Images of civilization appeared on the surface of the shimmering water.

Workers clad in loose rags and loincloths moved giant stone blocks toward a building site. Though the structure was in the earliest stages of construction, Gabrielle discerned that they were building a pyramid.

"They call me Amenhotep." He said of the builders, "I am the master architect of Egypt."

Staring at the images in the water, she discerned, "You are more than an architect." Turning her direct gaze on him, she added, "You have the power of Ra."

He chuckled with friendly amusement. "Indeed, I do."

"But I thought it began with Ptolemy."

"No. The power of Ra passed from one dynasty to the next, just as it will pass from Egypt to Rome."

"The Pharaohs claimed to be gods," she said to herself, her eyes turning back to

the images. "because they were gods."

"Mortal gods." He confirmed, "As I am a mortal god."

Though he equated himself with the God Kings of Egypt, she sensed there was more to him, an ancient nature of such longevity to seem immortal.

He bent toward her to bring their faces closer together. "Others see what I wish them to see. I wish you to see the truth."

She felt compelled to close her eyes and, like memories the history of Amenhotep flooded her mind. It was a history that went beyond the known world, a history that took her far into the past and far into the future, from the desert of Egypt and into the stars.

Breathlessly, she uttered her discovery with awe, "You are Ra, father of the Egyptian gods and goddesses." She opened her eyes, and was drawn into his depths and to the truth about the power that bound them as one. Ares and Mahji had conspired to include her in the ritual of Soter's Sacrifice. Ares had his own reasons, unknown to Gabrielle. But Mahji's reasons were clear. He included her to do Ra's will, to change her biology, and her paternity.

"You've made me your daughter," She blurted in a hushed whisper. She clutched at her middle, her hand covering the growing child within her, "and my son will be your grandchild. He will possess your powers. You've made him into a god?" And at once she needed to escape the captivity of his eyes, and his history, his memories. She turned from him, walking away a handful of steps, enough to put space between them.

"Do not be angry." Ra pleaded softly.

Her mind turned to Horace, her biological father, who she had loved dearly, and missed terribly. She had hoped to see some of her father reflected in the face of her child, but that would never happen now that she had been altered. "I'm not angry." She replied, "I am heartsick."

"Gabrielle," he started gently, "I chose you to be my daughter, and my avenger, because you are worthy. By my will, you are also a Goddess."

"A goddess," she laughed incredulously, "This really isn't happening. This is an illusion. No, this is not an illusion. This is a nightmare."

He approached her back, and it was the habit of the warrior within that caused her to turn and take a defensive stance.

"You do not believe, and yet you have been in full control of your powers from the moment you entered the Light of Sekhemet. You followed your heart to Greece, to relive times gone long past. Questing the truth brought you here to this time, and to me, as I am today. Even now, you feel the power in your blood. In your spirit. Even now you feel the bond we share. My dear child, you have come to me as the Mother of the Pharaohs. You will leave me as the Avenger of the Ptolemy."

"I don't understand. Why," she demanded lowly, "choose me as your Avenger? I don't believe in revenge. I believe in redemption."

Soberly, he replied "For that reason, you are the perfect Avenger."

He cast his hand out toward the water, and the image of boy about 12 years of age appeared. He was slender, his face handsome, his dark hair curly, and his light eyes wild.

She knew at once that she was looking upon the face of the Roman heir.

A black fog appeared in the background of the figure. It took on a form, but even before she could make out the features, she recognized Ares.

"Ares has taken the Roman heir under his wing." She realized, "Just as he mentored Xena and Eve."

"Ares is this child's true father."

And at once she saw his similarity to Ares, in the eyes and the shape of his mouth, though he had a recessed chin, and it made him seem more boyish, more innocent than his father.

"Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus." Amenhotep informed her, "Born mortal, and powerless. Ares produced this child with a woman he thought suitable in order to repopulate Olympus to its former glory, with himself as ruler of the gods. But with Zeus dead, Ares no longer has the power to pass his godhood on to his mortal descendants. By a trick of fate, Lucius' mother married Claudius, and convinced Claudius to accept Lucius as his son. Ares knew that the powers of Egypt would soon pass on to the Roman emperor, and was pleased by Lucius' position until he discovered that the powers pass along through the bloodline, and not into adopted sons."

"Unless the Avenger was activated," Gabrielle added with discovery, amazed by her own increasing knowledge of the situation, "and then the powers automatically go to the legal heir; a child who will eventually take power."

He nodded appreciatively for her ready comprehension. "Ares had to convince the mother to intrigue on their son's behalf so that Claudius would make him the heir to the Roman Empire. After that was done, he needed only to incite the passions of the Avenger. By taking Philadelphos' life with the Avenger's approval, Ares succeeded in securing godhood for his son."

"Helios became the Avenger when Philadelphos died,"

"And the power passed into you," he finished for her, "as I revived Philadelphos from death."

She looked at the undulating image of Ares' mortal son. She slowly shook her head, "I can't take the life of a child, even a child of Ares."

"Yes. I know, and Ares knows this of you, as well."

"Which is why Ares wanted me to become the Avenger?"

"Ares is shrewd. He counts on you to wait for this boy to come of age to take action, knowing that by that time he will be more powerful than you can imagine. Right now, in the body of a child, the heir to my powers is weak."

Disapproving, she added, "Which is why Soter's Sacrifice makes certain that your powers are placed into a child."

He nodded to the waters, to the image of the boy. The boy became a man, and all around him were depictions of the destruction to come.

"He will be the destroyer," he said to her, "of nations."

The appellation struck a chord in her. Defensively, she replied, "Xena was once the destroyer of nations, an innocent taken under Ares' wing, a bloodthirsty Warrior Princess, and she changed. People can change." She gestured to the image of a man, and by her will changed it back to the boy, "Right now he is an innocent under the influence of an evil force. We can't predict what he can become if that weren't the case. I can't execute a child for crimes he might commit as an adult."

The compassion on his face made him more beautiful, more compelling. She felt he knew her fate, as well as the fate of Lucius, and even as she reminded herself that she did not believe in fate, she dreaded her return to the world, to the ruins of this temple.

The temple ruins. She looked around, understanding that this temple was not a replica of the ruins where they'd held the ritual, but one and the same. Ra's temple fell from the sky, and into the ground, as Alexander the Great marched across Persia, Syria, and claimed Egypt.

"The power of Ra left the Pharaohs," she said aloud, "and entered the Ptolemy. But how? How did it skip several generations and survive a conqueror?"

Ra touched her face, a tender expression of fondness she allowed. "Goodbye my daughter."

The stars engulfed her in a swirling mass, tightening around her until she couldn't breath, then released her, fleeing her eyes. Gradually the temple resumed around her, but as it looked in her time. Battered, aged, and buried deep in the ground. The remaining statues of Ptolemy were in place, save the one broken in her tussle with Ares. This was Ra's home, its place once in the stars. Soon it would be a tomb for a god. She understood that Ra was dying. His last strands of life existed within her, and within the Roman heir.

Light surrounded her, and she knew then that the temple's illumination had been the manifestation of the spirit of Ra.

"I recognize my daughter, Sekhemet."

The light faded, sinking into the stone until the temple was consumed in darkness.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the substandard light of torches. Her first site was of Philadelphos, rushing toward her. He was dressed in a robe, clean, and best of all, alive. She welcomed his embrace, and was happy all at once.

"I thought you were lost." He breathed in her ear.

"I was worried about you, too."

"Did you hear the voice?" Helios asked of Eve, Mahji, and to Philadelphos, he exclaimed, "She is the Avenger!"

Philadelphos released her and stared soulfully into her eyes. "No."

"Its true." She confirmed.

Despair swept his features.

Aside them, Ares said, "My job here is done." And he laughed uproariously as he turned to walk away, and disappeared.

Eve stepped up onto the altar, and touched Gabrielle's arm. "Ares must have a reason for inflicting you with the curse."

Gabrielle nodded to her. "Oh yeah, he has reason."

Mahji imposed himself to interrupt. "We are surrounded by Roman troops, sent by Ares. They are here to hold us captive, or kill us if we flee."

"Is there another way out of the temple?"

Mahji looked to Gabrielle and smiled. "Yes."

An escape route occurred to her, and with a wry smile, she asked Philadelphos, "Did you ever learn how to do this?"

In the span of a heartbeat they left the temple, and arrived on the deck of the Nubian Night.

Their arrival startled the mates on watch, and though Philadelphos' intervention stopped them from attacking, they continued to stare apprehensively at the five people who seemed to appear out of thin air.

Dawn was imminent and the sky was pitch black. The ships aside, in front and behind them were alight with torches. Shouts from the Roman guards on duty announced that they'd been spotted.

"They won't let us go."

"They won't have a choice, Helios." Gabrielle replied.

She went to the bow of the ship, aware that the war ship off their port bow was moving with the intention to ram them, then board. Speaking to the Nubian Night as if the ship were a sentient being, she said, "Take flight."

Her hands tingled, a sensation that raced through her arms, torso, and down her legs, rooting her feet to the deck. She lifted her hands slightly from her sides. The Nubian Night responded by rising out of the water.

Excitement flew through Gabrielle, placing a grin on her features. The ship was one with her, and she one with the ship. She closed her eyes, sensing the body of the ship as if it were her body. The oar rudders were her legs, the hull her torso, the prow her breasts, and the sails, her mind. She lifted her hands higher, and the ship rose higher. As it broke with the water's surface, she gasped with the satisfaction of feeling free.

Cries of horror from the crew on board erupted from behind her, the less hardy specimens jumped off the ship and into the Nile. Their fear satisfied a feral part of Gabrielle, the darkness in her that she generally kept well in check. She felt darkness moving inside her, resisting the yoke of her decency.

"This is the true curse of Ra's power." She heard Mahji say. He did not speak with a physical voice, but rather through a connection between their minds. "If you fight your destiny, your darkness will overtake you. It happened with Helios. It will happen to you."

"To kill a child," she retorted, "is a dark task. I cannot do it!"

"We are all darkness, and we are all light." He replied. "You know this truth in your heart. You've tasted your darkness in the past, Gabrielle. You cannot pretend it does not exist."

She ignored him, and urged the ship up and over the sand for an impossible aerial journey east to the Red Sea

* * * * * * *

 

The vertical movement of his ship was astonishing enough, but once the ship sailed in the air as if it were on the sea, he could do no more than prop himself on a sail rigging and stare in wonder at Gabrielle's arched back. The effort of her feat was evident in the rigidity of her body, her splayed hands, as though she held onto the ship and lifted it with simple physical strength rather than the will of a goddess.

"She is more powerful than any Ptolemy ever born." Helios remarked.

Philadelphos threw a derisive scowl at his brother. Someday he might forgive Helios for his betrayal. Part of him understood his brother's compulsive need to plot his death. The urge to follow the path of the Avenger had stolen his humanity. But understanding had not yet fully bridged the chasm between his anger and his acceptance. Tonight he couldn't abide his brother's presence, nor his voice.

"Go away, Helios," he ordered, and with disdain, added, "tend your wife."

Defensively, Helios countered, "I fought my destiny as the Avenger for my entire life because I did not want to perform Soter's Sacrifice. I lost the battle. Don't you see? The curse took hold of my soul and turned me against my beloved brother. I was a simple rug maker." He gestured toward Gabrielle's back, "She is a warrior. What will she become once the curse has hold of her soul?"

"It won't happen."

"Don't be naïve. It already has."

Helios walked away, but his omen of ill will hung like a black cloud over Philadelphos.

 

* * * * * * *

She closed her eyes as the hot wind caressed her face. Below, the sand shifted like a restless sea. Above, the clouds drifted by, kin to the Nubian Night.

"Gabrielle,"

She opened her eyes to the sky. The clouds had collected and pieced themselves together in order to form Xena's features.

"Xena," she whispered in return, knowing this was not illusion, nor was it a wish made manifest. It was a visitation from the dead.

"That's quite a trick." She replied, her voice silky in the wind.

Speaking of her appearance in the clouds, Gabrielle smiled, "Right back at 'cha."

The movement of the clouds formed a smile in return, a smile that turned into a serious frown as quickly.

"Ares' army waits for you in Kuman."

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