To War!

I know how to hurt, and I know how to heal
I know what to show, and what to conceal
I know when to talk, and I know when to touch
No one ever died from wanting too much
The world is not enough, but it's such a perfect place to start, my love
And if you're strong enough, together we can take the world apart, my love
People like us know how to survive
There's no point in living if you can't feel alive.

Garbage, "The World Is Not Enough"

The army camp was an immense square, four gates set into the centre of each side, two roads crossing it at right angles. Where they met, in the centre, stood Livia's command tent, surrounded by several smaller merchants' tents. The camp set-up, Roman to the core, was utterly foreign to Xena. She and Gabrielle had spent the last of their money on the requisite Roman armour; now they sat, cold and uncomfortable, near a small guards' fire, trying in vain to warm their hands. The sun was a spot of brighter white in the milky overcast sky, providing little warmth. Through the gap between the tents on either side of the fire, Xena could just make out the entrance to Livia's tent and the tall standards flying beside it, the eagle-shaped Aquila most prominent of all.

Xena looked down at herself, then at Gabrielle: identical leather cuirasses over short tunics, cloaks, boots, helmets... She longed for the feel of her own armour, the leather and metal that fit her and only her, and said, simply, 'Xena'. But here, she wasn't Xena. She was Semra, and the sooner she was used to it, the better her chances with Eve. Xena turned her hands over, watching orange tongues lick at coals and at the rainy air. She could not afford to lose focus now.

Gabrielle touched her arm, pointing in the direction of Livia's tent. "Look."

Xena's heart thumped painfully at the sight of the woman striding towards it. Her baby, her flesh and blood. The make-up was gone and the torn wine-stained clothes had been exchanged for the bright armour of a general, the cuirass tooled over with intricate designs. The feeling of having been cheated rose up in Xena's throat, settling into a cold lump of dismay. All those years between the first smile – and the nod of greeting to a guard. It was impossible to believe they could be so completely, so irrevocably lost. Livia disappeared inside.

Xena met Gabrielle's eyes for an instant and their warmth did more good than the fire.

"Be strong," Gabrielle said, and Xena nodded. "For Eve."

They rose together and headed for the command tent. It was time.

"Halt!"

Xena and Gabrielle stopped at the guard's command, cloaks slapping against damp leather. The burly man did not display the slightest hint of interest in them. Far too Roman for comfort.

"Name and rank?"

Xena saluted the guard, fist closed. "Semra, rank to be confirmed."

The guard nodded curtly and glared meaningfully at Gabrielle. When no response came, he repeated impatiently, "Name and rank!"

Surreptitiously, Xena stubbed the toe of her boot into the side of Gabrielle's foot.

"Oh," Xena heard Gabrielle cough to cover up momentary panic, "uh, Jana. Rank to be confirmed."

The guard disappeared inside the tent, his partner remaining at his post, seemingly oblivious to the cold, staring straight ahead. Xena and Gabrielle exchanged a tense look. Somewhere in the camp, a drum started up, rhythmic beats to synchronise a weapons drill. Beat, beat, beat-beat-beat. Pause. Beat, beat-beat-beat, beat.

The guard ducked back out, lifting the heavy flap of the entrance. "You, Semra – the General will see you now. You," he indicated Gabrielle, "have no authority to be inside the camp. You will be escorted out." He motioned at another man.

Gabrielle opened her mouth to object, but Xena cut in smoothly. "Jana is my attendant, officer. I'm afraid her presence is required."

The man scowled. "Wait here." He re-emerged from the tent almost immediately. "The General will see you, with your attendant."

"Thank you."

Xena entered the tent, Gabrielle a step behind her. The two guards remained outside, but another pair on the inside of the doorway, identically uniformed, moved in to flank them silently.

When Xena's eyes had adjusted to the low light within the tent, she was slightly taken aback by its lavish interior. Even in her days as a plunderer, she had never appointed her tent with such luxury. The thick leather walls were lined with tasselled hangings, there were pelts on the earthen floor and a trestle writing table, complete with inkwell and quills, was placed in the centre. It would take an entire wagon to haul all this! Behind the desk, on a high-backed seat, sat Eve, Livia, to all appearances engrossed in writing. Her quill scratched back and forth on the scroll spread out on the table. There were other scrolls there, too, and a sizeable map held flat by brazen weights shaped like eagles.

Livia continued her writing without acknowledging their approach. It was not a subtle way to assert dominance, but nevertheless a powerful one. Xena had often employed it herself, especially in her younger days, before she had gained the skill and confidence to play for subtle manipulation over gross effect. She waited, observing her daughter numbly, Gabrielle at her side.

Long brown hair, no longer styled but drawn up into a tight ponytail at the top of her head. Clever. A concession to practicality, but attractive enough to use her femininity as a weapon if need be. The same applied to what was visible of her armour – the metal, leather and linen were undeniably functional, but cut to enhance, rather than conceal, their wearer's shape. Xena tried to focus on these tidbits of information, to ignore the gnawing ache at the thought of knowing nothing more about her daughter. With a start, she realised that her breathing was shallow, synchronised with the drum beat outside.

Beat. Beat. Beat-beat-beat. Hold.

Livia. Livia. Livia-Livia-Livia. Eve.

No!

Deliberately, Xena took a long breath, breaking the pattern. She must learn to separate this young woman from her child. She must, or she may as well walk away now.

At last, Livia replaced her quill and looked up, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. "Semra."

Xena's heart flip-flopped in her chest, all sensible thoughts leaving her at the sound of her voice. Low, laced with slight contempt. So familiar, it hurt. How far was it from Champion of Rome to Destroyer of Nations?

Not trusting herself to reply, Xena took a step forward and saluted, every muscle fibre strung taut with the effort of keeping her hands from shaking. Following her lead, Gabrielle did likewise, but placed a fist against her heart instead of completing the salute, in deference to her 'commander'.

"I have a proposal for you that I think you may find interesting." Livia remained seated comfortably in her chair, looking over at the two women. 'She enjoys the feel of it,' Xena thought. 'Like an Empress on her throne.' She said nothing, waiting for Livia to continue.

Livia picked up a dry quill and indicated the map. "I believe you agreed to offer your services to Rome for the duration of one campaign."

Xena inclined her head.

Livia waved the quill over the map. "And you'll no doubt want to begin your service as soon as possible?"

The smugness in her voice told Xena that she had been right to let Livia draw her own conclusions back in the temple. "Of course."

The prospect of obtaining a highly skilled officer for a campaign, with no pay at all, had most definitely appealed to Livia. Especially since all that was required in return was to dangle the carrot of an offer to speak for the said officer to the God of War. And a bonus – ensuring that Ares' interest in her did not remove him from Livia's side. Even as Xena was pleased by the success of the plan, she felt an increasing revulsion at herself.

"I thought so. Let me show you these maps." Livia's gold-ringed finger pointed to marks around a group of valleys in Moesia and northern Thrace. "This is Greek Amazon territory. For now."

Xena heard Gabrielle make a small noise behind her. Not just any Amazons. Gabrielle's tribe was there, in the northernmost of the valleys.

Xena looked directly at her daughter, defying protocol. "Send away your guards."

Livia smiled, genuinely amused by the idea. "Never fear, Semra, these men are deaf and mute. Quite literally, I assure you." Unspoken was the qualifier: they had not been born that way. "Whatever it is you wish to say, you can say it in their presence."

Xena lowered her voice, taking refuge in the persona she had created. "Nevertheless. What I have to say is for ears of the Champion of Rome only." She emphasized the point with a sidelong glance at the doorway that also encompassed 'Jana'. Flattery was always a useful weapon. Livia's smile widened – apparently, she had not yet learned this fact.

"Of course."

Livia curled a slender finger, beckoning a servant. The man appeared, bearing a steaming wine jug and a platter of eggs and cheese. He set the food at the side of the desk, avoiding the maps, and hurried away.

Livia flicked her arm at the two guards either side of Xena and Gabrielle. Her arm moved with the certainty of one used to being obeyed – but also, Xena noted, with a fluidity that revealed childhood lessons in dance and poise which no amount of weapons practice could disguise.

The men saluted and exited the tent. Xena gave Gabrielle an apologetic look. "You too, Jana."

A moment's hesitation, then Gabrielle followed the soldiers outside. The beat of the drum rose in volume briefly, then was muted again as the flap at the entrance closed.

Alone with her daughter, the role she had chosen began to suffocate Xena. Her baby, blue-eyed and rosy-cheeked, a little bud of a human being, stolen from her along with the rest of her life. Perhaps Semra was no pretence after all. Standing in this tent, playing this farce, Semra was every bit as real, and as illusory, as Xena. Xena lay dead in a cave somewhere, her passing mourned by some, rejoiced at by others, probably ignored by most. The hollow shell in Roman armour was indeed Semra. Nothing more.

Livia rose slightly in her seat to pour two small measures of mulled wine from the jug on the table. The hot sour smell drifted in the air. Xena's eyes followed her daughter's movements hungrily, as though avid attention now could somehow make up for all those empty years. She took the offered cup woodenly, cradling it in her hand.

Livia sat back with a look of patient tolerance which brought to Xena's mind an unbidden image of Ares. Xena gulped at the wine, pretending to enjoy its watered-down heat, disgustingly Roman.

"Well?" Livia asked, her tone slightly bored. She was, however, betrayed by her eyes – bronze sparks of curiosity in pools of dark blue. That much, at least, had not changed. Xena focused completely on those eyes until the woman around them was no more real than the child in her memories. She breathed again to dispel the mesmerising drumbeat outside and forced her lips and tongue to form words.

"Permission to speak informally?"

"Granted."

"I can't accept your deal." Xena's heart beat in time with the drum.

A minute change in posture was the only sign of Livia's confusion. "Why is that?"

With a monumental effort and another gulp of the watered wine, Xena silenced the part of her that yearned to envelop the girl in a hug, to loosen her hair and make her little again, to protect her from herself. She approached the table and pointed to the map. "I've fought there before."

She watched Livia scrutinize the patch of land at her fingertip.

"On whose side?"

A final sharp mouthful of wine, and it was Semra who replied. "I am an Amazon, Commander."

Livia's head rose slowly, eyes narrowed. "An Amazon who had a child with the God of War?"

Xena did not have to feign the pained look in her eyes. "Yes."

Fascination replaced sarcasm. "Tell me."

"Not much of a tale." The voice was Semra's, steady. "As you can imagine, it didn't endear me to my tribe. The baby was out of season, we were attacked and I was too weak to fight." She mimed self-disgust. "I was taken prisoner."

"Did they rescue you?"

Xena snorted. "Oh, they ransomed me, all right. Wouldn't do to have their war-leader paraded as a trophy! Had to have their little trial, make an example of an Amazon who'd tried to gather power to herself through her daughter."

Livia nodded. "Your daughter would have been older than all the others born that season, stronger. More likely to win the fight for leadership when the time came."

"Yes."

"And with Ares as a father... So they banished you both?" There was no sympathy, the inquiry was just a gathering of information.

"No. They'd rather have my daughter fight for them than against them. No, they banished me. I walked out of the village naked, carrying nothing, while every Amazon in the tribe watched and jeered. I haven't seen my daughter since." Was it the incessant beat of the drum? Or the wine? Xena found herself slipping easily into 'Semra'. Too easily. But she could not risk pulling back now.

Livia nodded again. "None objected?"

"Jana did."

"You're a lucky woman, Semra." Livia bit into a small piece of cheese, cringed and threw the rest of it on the floor. "Loyalty is a rare commodity."

"That's true," Xena said, remembering the deaf guards. The sour wine-soaked air nauseated her, giving her voice an acid edge that she knew must only add a ring of truthfulness to her words. "When Ares returns my child to me, she will be queen above them all and they will fawn and roll over, like the dogs they are!"

Livia picked up half an egg with nimble fingers, popping the yellow pellet of the yolk into her mouth. "So you won't fight them because your daughter will be their queen?"

"That's right."

Livia rested an elbow on the desk and put the remaining egg white on top of the eagle-shaped paperweight, making a little cap for the bird. She pressed her thumb against the egg white and looked straight into Xena's eyes. "Sometimes, Semra," the thumb pressed further in, "you have to squash a few fools to get what you want." The egg-cap compressed under her thumb and tore, falling around the eagle figurine in two pieces.

Xena watched as Livia rose from her chair, circled the desk and walked to the corner of the tent, where a large chart was pinned on the wall. Livia ran her hand over the parchment, then turned around. "This will be my final campaign."

Xena's fingers tightened around the now-empty wine cup.

"It's not a battle for land or taxes, Amazon. I'm sure you've caught the rumours in Rome – that I'm to wed the Emperor?"

"I have."

Livia returned behind her desk.

"My victory over the Amazons will please Augustus." She sounded very certain of both the anticipated victory and the expected reaction. "And will prove once and for all that I have fought my campaigns for Rome – for him."

She looked at Xena, very serious and suddenly very childlike. "I trust you, Amazon – call it intuition. So I will tell you this much. I was not born Roman. No matter how great my victories are, or how many triumphs I celebrate, that will never change. A non-Roman Empress of Rome is," she laughed, "a novel idea." The laugh ended abruptly. "But I intend for it to catch on."

Xena leapt at the opening. "Forgive my ignorance – I have not been in Rome long, but I heard rumours that Fortuna herself placed you on a battlefield as a child." There was no reaction, so Xena went on. "If the most Roman of goddesses brought you to the Emperor, then how can you not be Roman?" Xena added a bemused frown to the question, hoping she was not overdoing it.

Livia glared at her. "Let's just say that some Romans do not hold this most Roman of goddesses in quite as high esteem as they ought. They don't question her judgement. Just her existence."

"And you're among them," said Xena shrewdly. A gamble that paid off immediately: Livia's eyes sparkled.

"You're clever! I like that – I need clever people in my army. Fortuna must have sent you to me."

Xena chuckled at that – was irreverence towards the gods hereditary? – and realised that Livia was grinning, too. The single shared moment engulfed Xena, the sea roared in her ears and threatened to dump her senseless onto harsh sand. She had to break it, before it broke her.

Xena set her cup on the table, hating the excuse to look away. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I want to offer you another way to reach your goals – if you help me reach mine. You want revenge on the Amazons? You will have it." Livia reached across the table, refilling Xena's cup. "Join me, Semra, and you will do more than see your daughter again and have the Amazons brought to their knees. She will be queen – more than queen. She will be Empress of Rome!" Livia looked up. "I am offering you a position as chief legate of my army, and your daughter, the name of Caesar. She will be adopted and named my heir. You and I will crush the Amazons, Semra – and your daughter will one day rule them, and the world."

It worked! Xena's mind shouted warnings – if she wasn't careful, she would start to believe her own story. Sudden silence brought her back to herself: the drum outside had finally, mercifully, ceased.

"All this in return for the betrayal of my people?"

"Betrayal? They ceased to be your people when they betrayed you, Semra. With your knowledge and my army, we can make them pay."

"What about my daughter? She's still with the tribe."

"By the time we reach Amazon lands, she will be out of harm's way. I'll talk to Ares."

Xena waited a few moments, pretending to consider. "You're right."

Livia grinned triumphantly and thrust her arm forward. "Then – to war!"

Slowly, Xena gripped the girl's forearm, sealing the deal. "To war!"

It occurred to her, as servants were called back with more food and wine, that that hard handshake had been the first touch she had shared with her daughter in twenty-five years.

* * *

Ares made himself visible as soon as Xena left Livia's tent. Livia did not notice him at first, engrossed in the map on the table. She reached for the platter at her side and took a piece of bread without looking up – and it seemed so easy to just place the ambrosia there, and wait for her to take it. Ares shook himself free from the thought. The God of War, scared? Please. He just wasn't sure that it was the right time for this. Of course, thanks to Xena's interference, there would probably never be a right time.

"Well, that was certainly an interesting turn of events."

Livia twisted around in her chair to face him, then stood up. "I'm glad you approve."

"Oh, I do." He glanced at the map. "An Amazon in your army – stroke of genius. But Augustus may have just a little problem with leaving his empire to one, don't you think?"

Livia came closer to where Ares stood at the corner of her table, and tried to put her arms on his shoulders. He stepped back and glared at her until she dropped her hands with a frown.

"What makes you think I'd leave my Empire to some Amazon's brat?"

Ares raised his eyebrows. "Let me see. Could it be the pledge you just made to your second in command?"

One corner of Livia's mouth lifted in a smirk. "Semra doesn't know it yet, but she's going to help me conquer the Amazons more completely than anyone has ever dared to dream. I'm going to make them love Rome."

Ares stared at her, trying to decide whether her delusion was amusing or pathetic, and which would be worse in the daughter of the God of War.

"You'd have to kill them first."

"That's always an option," Livia agreed. "But I don't intend to take it. After all," she dropped her voice to that of a storyteller, "it's Semra who brought an army upon the Amazons. To think that she offered to help Rome to defeat her own people!" She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Unfortunately for Semra, Rome doesn't like traitors. Once the campaign is over, I will hand her over to the people she betrayed, to secure an alliance. The Amazons will be suitably grateful – and Rome will be in love with her Empress." She grinned at Ares. "I love revenge tragedies. Especially ones with such a happy end."

This was no delusion, Ares realised. This was a plan. A hunger had crept into Livia's eyes sometime during this mother-daughter reunion, a fire he used to know very well in the eyes of another, and had all but given up hope of ever seeing again. But here it was! A slow grin nudged at Ares' lips, threatening to reveal the relief he felt. Xena's interference could actually turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Granted, she'd managed to get close to Livia, but did she have any idea what she'd awakened in her daughter? No doubt she thought that if she could only talk to her, Livia would see the light, repent, and spend the rest of her life helping old ladies across the road. Ares wondered how long it would be before Xena saw that her little fantasy was doomed – and how much longer before she worked out that she needed his help.

He found he had a renewed interest in this war.

"Interesting. You make Semra second in command, use her knowledge, then wash your hands of her when the time comes." Ares paused, trying to pin down the strange discomfort he felt. What if Xena insisted on seeing this thing through? He dropped the thought. She wouldn't. Xena was smarter than that. "So," he returned his attention to Livia, "where does your offer to make Semra's child your heir fit into all this?"

Livia did not attempt to conceal her delight. "It doesn't."

Without warning, she placed both hands on the hilt of Ares' sword at his hip, drawing it in the same movement. The swish drowned out Ares' surprise. Before he could get irritated, Livia continued.

"You see, Semra has to think she's getting what she wants: her child, her revenge," – Livia held the sword aloft, and her reflection stretched along the blade – "power." She tilted the sword at Ares' chest. "I could offer her ambrosia, for all it matters."

"I thought you liked Semra."

"I do."

"Ah. Well, in that case..." Ares ignored the sword and spread his palms in slow admiration. He grinned, "I've got to say, I'm impressed."

"You should be. With Semra out of the picture, you can have your child back, all to yourself." Livia stepped closer, pressing the sword a little way into his chest. That was going too far.

Ares took the weapon from her hands and returned it to the scabbard at his hip. "What would I do with the kid?"

"That's up to you." Livia waved a hand, "Train her as a cupbearer, or warrior, or stash her away for the future. I'm sure you could find a use for a mortal by-blow."

Ares flinched. "A little incentive to keep me on your side?"

"Just your fair share." Livia watched him, apparently relaxed. "Provided, of course, that I can still count on your support."

There was a pause – then Ares threw his head back and laughed outright. She did take after her mother!

"That was brilliant, Livia. Marvellously manipulated."

"Then I have the blessing of the God of War on this campaign?"

"Of course."

"Good!" And before Ares knew it, Livia's lips were pressed to his, her slight body pushing him back against a tapestry on the wall, hands sliding into his vest.

"What..."

She bit his lip, hard. "Let's seal this deal." Her hands went to the catch on his belt.

Panic shot Ares with a blinding sense of dèjá vu – he'd been waiting for this, for the hunger for glory that was the seed of a great champion, the defiance... But Tartarus, this was Eve! Disgust lurched within him. Yesterday, this meeting would have thrilled him to dizzying heights of power and desire, but today ... It sickens me.

"Li... Livia!" He prised her off, holding her shoulders, his stomach heaving. "Do not do that again, do you understand?"

He could not guess what she saw in his face, and didn't care. His daughter. All fire drained from Livia's eyes, leaving a hint of uncertainty, that self-despised search for approval which had never been Xena's. Right at that moment, Ares couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He breathed, releasing her. Livia stood back. Her hands shook; she clenched them on the edge of the table behind her.

"You promised to make me yours, Ares. Your champion." Her voice became stronger, accusing. "The word of a god is a sacred trust!" She lifted her chin a fraction, daring him to mock her.

Ares leaned forward, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. Her skin was icy and damp. "You are mine," he said – and wondered why his chest felt so tight, and why his eyes were burning.

"I'm giving you what you've always wanted," his daughter's words fell like snowflakes onto hot spilled blood, "a warrior queen to rule the world in your name." She leaned back on her elbows against the table, the pose calculated to beckon him. Ares did not move. "Shouldn't I get something in return?"

No, Ares thought, making a silver jar vanish from the food platter, its disappearance as unnoticed as its arrival. This was definitely not the right time.

* * *

"Something is bothering you."

Ilainus' voice startled Athena from her thoughts. When did it get this late? The tent was sinking into shadows, they stretched along the coverlets of the bed and disappeared into the furs on the floor. She looked across the woven pattern of the pillow at the mortal woman's concerned face, and touched that beautiful cheek in apology.

"You know my mind better than I do, Ilainus. Too many things bothering me."

"Hmm," Ilainus' lips drew into a slow smile as her hands disappeared under the covers. Athena caught a breath as they found a nipple and squeezed gently. "I could make you forget them."

"I'm sure you could." Athena turned sideways to pull Ilainus' lithe, long-limbed body closer, pressing into the touch of those hands. Worrying thoughts about Ares' involvement with Rome and the Amazons paled into insignificance as Ilainus' fingers traced a shivering line over her breast and moved lower.

"The trouble is," Athena tried to collect the words in between little shocks of pleasure, "the trouble is that I can't afford to – aah – to forget them," – a fingertip brushed her inner thigh almost accidentally, as if it never meant to move at all – "right now."

The protest of innocence was betrayed by the glittering challenge of Ilainus' eyes. Athena tilted her head in a challenge of her own.

For a long moment they regarded each other – and then Athena could not keep back her cry as she found herself pinned on her back, wide open to Ilainus' burning hands and eyes. The mortal folded her taller body down to kiss her mouth; Athena resisted her tongue and instead touched the tip of it with her own, licking the heat of it, winning this at least if Ilainus was to have victory over the rest of her body.

When desire had crashed over them and washed away into calm, Athena held Ilainus close, running her fingers through the woman's sweat-darkened hair, cradling her head to her chest. Ilainus looked up, eyes suddenly clouded. "Is this about Varia?" she asked.

Athena lifted Ilainus' chin, drawing her up for a kiss. "You have my favour, Ilainus. Always. Varia's interest is only in herself and her nation."

Ilainus returned the kiss, accepting the explanation. "And Ares is neglecting both?"

"She would not be sacrificing to me if she still had Ares' support."

"Surely she is bound to Artemis, like all the Amazons. Why not sacrifice to her?"

Athena frowned. "I can think of no reason for that. Unless..." She moved a little, letting Ilainus roll off her. She propped herself on one elbow and directed a keen look at her champion. "Why do you suppose Ares is supporting Rome?"

"Xena is there. If she commands half the loyalty you do, my goddess," Ilainus smiled in genuine awe, "I have no doubt that Ares would be more than willing to change his battle plans to be by her side."

Athena nodded thoughtfully. "I don't doubt Ares' ability to compromise his plans. It is the connection between this, and an Amazon's reluctance to call on Artemis that concerns me. Varia is hiding something from her – although with the amount of attention Artemis affords her worshippers, it hardly seems worth the effort."

"Perhaps that is why she seeks your help instead."

"Perhaps. But remember, Ilainus: a great commander always looks past what is obvious – to see if there is a deeper strategy."

* * *

Gabrielle paced the length of Xena's tent, from the bedroll to the table and back again. She stopped at the doorway, drew the flap aside and looked out. The sun was not yet setting, but its light was soft, tinged with yellow, spilling over the bustling camp and into her eyes. Gabrielle fancied that the wind worrying at the legion's standards brought with it the faint smells of dying forests and the echoes of screams.

"I have to warn them," she said to no one in particular.

"Yes, we do," Xena's voice answered behind her.

Gabrielle turned back and waited for her eyes to readjust. The stench of damp leather in the tent mingled with her own apprehension, making her nauseous.

"Not we," Gabrielle said when she could see Xena again, leaning against the back wall of the tent in her Roman armour. "I. My tribe is my responsibility. I'm leaving as soon as it gets dark." She tried to breathe some determination into the words.

Xena pushed herself upright. "If you do that, we've lost her. She must suspect we're spying – any commander would. You know we're being watched. If you leave, she'll have you intercepted and try to have us both killed."

Gabrielle sighed, picking up her road satchel. She didn't want Xena to be reasonable. It made her feel uneasy, too close to losing her nerve. Gabrielle opened the satchel and looked inside, instead of at Xena.

"I know," she said. "But I have to try."

"It's suicide!"

The edge in Xena's voice finally made Gabrielle look up – and all her carefully propped up bravado crumbled. The satchel slipped to the floor. She whispered, "I'm scared."

"Me too, Gabrielle."

Xena did not make a move to come closer, and Gabrielle realised why. "You're planning something." Xena moved her head a fraction. "And I'm not going to like it," Gabrielle concluded.

"There is a way to get you out to the Amazon lands without Livia suspecting anything."

"Alive?"

The attempted humour felt all wrong. Gabrielle paused, then tried again. "How?"

Xena's smile was very narrow. "We tell her about it."

"What?"

Xena looked past Gabrielle to the doorway, sliced by a thin line of yellowing light. "Jana the loyal attendant is going to look for Semra's baby."

"Jana is supposed to be banished, she can't return to the Amazon lands."

Xena's eyes returned to Gabrielle, almost colourless in the gold light. "Not without help. But part of the deal I made with Livia was that she'd ask Ares to help find this baby."

Gabrielle stood still. Xena was going to ask Ares for help? But... "He'll want something in return. And we have nothing to bargain with."

Xena was silent again, and Gabrielle breathed in exasperation. "For the gods' sakes, Xena, just tell me what it is!" Xena flinched, and Gabrielle felt guilty. "Please," she said softly. "I need to know."

Xena tossed her head up, black hair spilling over her shoulders. Gabrielle tensed from sheer force of habit, half-expecting to hear that there were two behind her and three more outside. Instead, Xena said calmly, "Ares hasn't told Livia who she is. And he's not going to tell her."

"Because he's going to use it as a bargaining chip?"

"No. Because I will."

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