With the priests still hiding in the temple Mavican took her sweet time gathering her weapons. A broken spear and a handful of throwing daggers. Her sward was still where ever Aries had send it to during her battle with Xena. The broken spear could be used in two ways the broken half without the spearhead, a bat and the half with the spearhead a stabbing weapon that could be thrown. A short-spear and a bat-spear. Mavican’s throwing knifes were all in good condition. She put her knives in the many sheaths sewn into her armor. The broken spear she would carry. As for her sword she thought about that for a minute, she smiled as she knew that she would simply take one . Mavican walked out of the temple into the village. The village was closer to pile dung than an actual collection of buildings Mavican thought with disgust. The village was near a river that would flood on the rainy season. Mavican wondered how people could live in such squalor. She didn’t think of the taxes the people paid to the king and temple or the raiders looting the village. Mavican herself had looted dozen of villages like this one. As she walked her horse her sandals filled with mud. This angered her but she remained calm with the knowledge that soon she would be riding out of the mud hole of a town. When she got the tavern where she had tied her horse, it wasn’t there. That was it, her fury overwhelmed her like the river flooding this town. Mavican kicked open the door of the tavern and said “Which one of you stinking, waterlogged inbred village idiots stoled my horse.” The tavern keeper took one look at Mavican and said “Get her boys.” Two paid guards attacked Mavican with clubs. Mavican was angry and ready for them. She blocked both clubs with her short-spear and bat-spear. The man on her right she kicked in the balls and he keeled over in pain. The second man swung at her with his club and again Mavican blocked the attack. This time she took her bat-spear and smashed his nose. There was a loud breaking sound and blood began to spill out of his nostrils. With his nose broken hi backed away. These two men had spent too much time at the barstool and were used to causing pain but not taking it. The Tavern keeper saw this and started to run to the rear door. Mavican hurled her short-spear right infant of him. The spear missed him by a foot. He halted to a stop and since he was behind the bar his fear made him run toe other way. Mavican flanged a throwing knife in his path. It struck the wall half a foot from his head. He stopped dead is his tracks. Mavican took two running steps, jumped spun into a ball and landed on the bar right in front of him. She yanked her short-spear out of the was and placed the point to his throat. “Now,” Mavican said calmly the battle quiching her fury, “What happed to my horse?” “WWW When Xena came out of the temple I assumed she killed you so I sold your horse to the local trading shop for twenty dinars.” The tavern keeper said through his fear. “My horse was worth three times that much!” Mavican hollered. “I’m sorry,” the tavern keeper begged, “I thought you were dead.” “Xena couldn’t kill me, Aries left me buried alive and I’m still here! Mortals and Gods can’t kill me! No one can!” Mavican shouted. “Please spare my life.” the tavern keeper pleaded. “The money you got for my horse is the value I place on your life. Return it and you shall live.” Mavican answered. The tavern keeper ripped the money from his pocket and held it before her. Mavican took the money, her throwing knife from the wall and walked out of the dusty tavern. She walked straight to the trading post entering with caution not wanting to alert any hired guards. The trading post was full of everything. Anyone who needed to sell something unloaded it here and anyone who needed to buy something picked it up here. The store had everything from scrolls to swords and pottery to plates of armor. The stables were out back, but Mavican decide to look over the swords and watch for any hired guards. More fights break out in taverns than shops Mavican concluded finding no guards. She approached the shop keeper, none of the swords meeting her standards. “The tavern-keeper said you might have a good strong horse he sold you.” Mavican said. The fat lazy bearded shop owner looked up form his accounting scroll to say “The war horse, I sold that to a passing soldier. ” Mavican dropped her broken spear pieces on the counter. “Hmm,” the shop-owner said examing the spear, “I’ll give five dinars for” Mavican grabbed his head and slammed his face down on the counter. “That was my war horse you sold,” she said pulling his battered face to her own, “now I’m taking the money you got for my horse and your best nag.” The shop- owner pulled a fist full of dinars and dropped them on the counter. Mavican released him and collected the coins. The shop-owner fell back into a set of pots backing away from the warrior. Mavican walked to the door turned to the shop-owner and laughed, “That’s the most I’ve gotten for a broken spear.” Mavican stepped out of the Trade shop to find three men in her path. Two of the men she knew a priest and the Tavern keeper both hiding behind a unknown stranger. “That’s the one that destroyed our temple.” The priest cried “And that’s the one that robbed me in my tavern.” The tavern-keeper squealed. Then the shop owner ran out and hide with the priest and tavern keeper. “And she robbed me and was goina rusle my best horse.” The shop owner wailed. Mavican didn’t know what the word rusle meant, but she knew this stranger meant to stop her from stealing a horse. She gave him a look over to study his armor. He was taller than most men, he wore a black wide rimmed hat and a black long coat. Mavican couldn’t see his armor so she studied his face to see what type of warrior he was. He had a pair of darker brown eye brows over a pair of darker brown eyes. His face was chiseled and covered with stubble from long days ride on the road. In his mouth he kept a tooth pick between his teeth that he chewed on. His dark gaze clashed with her own steel blue gaze and she knew she faced a hardened warrior. “You the local law in this one road village?” Mavican asked. “Nope just some hired blade they got to bring you down. So,” the Stranger said parting his coat reveling a dagger and a sword., “you goina come quietly or do things get ugly.” Mavican was planning to kick the Stranger to the ground, stomp his head into the mud and walk away. After she got a sight of his sword she knew she had to kill him for that blade. “I have a destiny,” Mavican replied, “and even though I’m down to my throwing blades you’re in my way.” “I’m the fastest blade in the west of Greece. So going up against me you have to ask yourself do feel lucky?” the Stranger asked. “Like I said I have a destiny and a warrior’s got to do what a warrior’s got to do.” Mavican answered. “So I guess we’d better step to the road.” the Stranger said. Mavican and the Stranger walked to the center of the road twenty paces from each other. Mavican’s sandals were soaked in mud; the Stranger’s spurs were drenched in wet soil making a chink-splashing sound. It was high-noon the sun beat down on them as they walked. They stood dead center of the road, twenty paces, facing each other. Everyone on the street ran to hide in the buildings. The village was a ghost town save for Mavican, the Stranger and an old woman sweeping the dust out of her hut. She had see this duel a hundred times before. The wind caught the dust and waved it in-between Mavican and the Stranger. The Stranger moved his coat behind his dagger. Mavican could see a vest of leather armor she wouldn’t be able to hurl a throwing knife in his heart. Mavican moved her hands up to her knives on her belt near her hips. She rubbed her thumbs against her first two fingers as if to say “come on.” The Stranger moved his hand above his dagger and chenched his fingers into a fist. When he opened his hand Mavican heard a knuckle pop. He waved his fingers as if to reply here it comes. The Stranger spit out his tooth pick and when it hit the ground steel flew like lightning. The Stranger threw his dagger straight for Mavican’s chest, it was dead on and would have pierced her breast and plunged into his heart if she had been standing there. Mavican dove out of the path of the blade. Which grazed her arm and she hurled two knives back at the Stranger. They struck him one in each arm right at the elbow. This stunned the Stranger giving Mavican time to get up and make a running charge towards him. At the charging warrior the Stranger drew his sword slowly because of his wounds. Mavican threw two more of her knives. The knives hit the vest and became embedded in the armor there points cutting his chest above his heart. The Stranger raised his sword over his head and charged at Mavican. Mavican saw he meant to bring that deadly sword down and hack her in an overhand slice. She had but one chance, though the knives in the Stranger’s arms had fallen out bringing blood with them the knives in his vest were still there. On her next stride she jumped put her right foot forward, let out a war cry that could wake the dead, and she kicked those two knives into the Stranger’s heart. The Stranger fell back into the mud his sword flew from his hands landing point first sticking into the ground. The Stranger’s wide rimmed hat had been pushed over his face by the ground, he looked more like a drunk sleeping than a dead warrior. The sword stood, it’s blade shone in the sunlight like silver and it’s pommel gleamed at Mavican to take it. Mavican grabbed the sword’s handle pulled it out of the ground and said “Stranger you’ve just made my day.” Mavican bent down to retrieve her knives when the Stranger spoke, “Wait,” he said, “lift off my hat. I have to tell you something.” Mavican was surprised that he still lived, let alone spoke. She stood up and lifted his hat aside with the tip of her new blade. She then put the blade under his chin and asked, “What?” The Stranger could barely keep his eyes open and all he saw was the sun shinning off a sword, a hand holding it and a face obscured by the sun reflecting off the blade and blonde hair. “Ya beat me.” The Stranger said swallowing his own blood, “Now every young blade is gonna come looking for ya wanting to be the best.” “Let them come I’ll send them all to Hades.” Mavican said. “All but one” the Stranger replied with his last breath. Mavican dug the knives out of him and wiped her weapons clean on his coat. She then put her new sword in the sheath strapped to her back, took one of the shop-owner’s nags and rode out of town.