Land of the Black Horses, part 1
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six
Copyright 1998
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
Xena, Warrior Princess
Gabrielle, Bard of Poteidaia
Joxer, the Mighty
Hippolyta, a horse doctor
Nikos, Hippolyta's husband
Zander, a northern soldier
Persephone, Goddess of Resurrection
Argo, Xena's horse
Pascha, Hippolyta's horse
Jaromin (YAHR-oh-min), a Friesian herd sire
Rating: PG-13 for standard Xena violence and a romantic scene.
Summary: After Anastasios dies, Joxer and Gabrielle begin to forge a meaningful
relationship. However, it is disrupted when Xena falls ill to a rare disease.
The only possible cure can be found in a mythical land far to the north,
and the two depart on a quest to save Xena's life. Along the way, they discover
many things about each other, meet someone from Hippolyta's past, and adopt
a new friend called Jaromin. Can they save Xena in time?
Note: This is the second story in the "Black Horses"
trilogy. It's recommended that you read them in order, or else you probably
won't understand them as well...
Gabrielle stood on the knoll just above Hippolyta's cottage, sighing softly as the wind whistled past and blew her strawberry hair behind her. The eastern horizon was a brilliant canvas of gold with crimson splotches as the sun peeked over the distant hills. Everyone who knew her knew she was hardly a morning person, but today was different. Gabrielle simply couldn't sleep late anymore, not when there was the promise of joy each and every day. Why miss out on any of it?
Xena and Hippolyta were still sound asleep. It was just her, and. . .
"Gabby! You're sure up early. Mind if I join you?" called the voice she now knew so well.
She smiled engagingly as she turned around. Joxer was sprinting up the hill like a horse that had thrown a shoe. Funny how she thought in so many equine metaphors these days, after Anastasios.
"Hello, Joxer. Isn't that a beautiful sunrise?" the bard asked softly, gesturing with her staff.
"Yeah, it sure is," he said as he reached her side, huffing for breath. His boots were soaked with dew from the long, verdant grass and his velvet tunic, sans vest, hung loosely on his limber frame.
Hardly as beautiful as her, he thought. He lay a gentle hand on her bare shoulder, swallowing nervously. She didn't mind at all.
"Joxer," Gabrielle said, leaning her fair head on his shoulder, "what do you want to do today?" It came out sweetly, almost provocatively.
He gulped again. Even after he had been resurrected a second time, and confessed his true love, Joxer was still nervous in the presence of such perfection. It was almost too good to be true, the way she had treated him since, and he knew it. He remembered how he had felt the first time this had happened. That brat Bliss, toying with his father's arrows, and worse, my feelings!
"Well, I don't know. It looks like it's going to be nice, and maybe Xena would want to get going, since Argo seems to be okay now. Hippolyta's had us here for a week. I guess we don't want to wear out our welcome," he answered, noting with embarrassment how his voice cracked at the end.
Gabrielle laughed slightly. "No, I mean, what do you want to do today?" She slipped one arm around his waist and sighed.
For a moment the two stood there, not saying a word. Each knew what the other was thinking. Finally Joxer broke the blissful silence with a light kiss to her neck.
"We've got all day to do that," he whispered in her ear. "C'mon, I bet Xena's up. Maybe I should fix breakfast. She has many skills, but I guess cooking isn't one of them!" Taking Gabrielle's hand in his, he began down the slope again at a trot. Their happy laughter filled the air as the sun cast its first rays on the cottage below.
Xena stood up and yawned. Hippolyta was still buried beneath a mound of blankets, and the warrior was amused to hear her snoring loudly. Xena stretched and scanned the room for her friends. Just as she had suspected, they were gone. She smiled and shook her head. For the last week, Gabrielle and Joxer had been inseparable. By the gods, it was amazing how things could change. Before Anastasios came along, the bard had barely tolerated the young man under any circumstances. Now they were the best of friends. Xena realized that Gabrielle had almost spent more time with Joxer than with her.
As Xena searched for a pot and ladle in the kitchen, she heard their voices in harmony as they romped through the meadow:
"Joxer the Mighty,
Roams through the countryside
He never needs a place to hide
With Gabby as his sidekick
Fighting with her little stick..."
The door burst open, narrowly missing Xena, who jumped nimbly aside. Gabrielle smiled and hugged her best friend, but Joxer still sang by himself, now slightly off-key:
"Righting wrongs and singing songs,
Being mighty all day long,
He's Joxer, Joxer the Mighty!"
Gabrielle and Xena looked at him strangely as he halted abruptly.
"Joxer, did you have to sing that loudly?" asked the bard, shaking her head.
"Ohhh, Joxer, you rascal, I thought the whole Theban army was marching through here with that racket!" called Hippolyta from her bed as she flung a handful of rags at him angrily.
"Sorry, Hippolyta. But I really am mighty. I just have to let everyone know," he said, catching a pair of the rags.
The three women groaned in chorus. "We know, Joxer. You don't have to tell us every day," Xena said wryly, speaking for all of them. Still, she patted his shoulder amiably as she went to put on her armor and weapons.
His brow furrowed in a familiar expression. Gabrielle stood next to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry. We can sing it again later," she whispered to him, eliciting from him a huge grin.
Hippolyta put on her robe and stretched. "I'll go ahead and make breakfast this morning. I wouldn't want this mighty warrior having to do anything like cooking!" she said sarcastically. "Give me that knife and I'll go get us a chicken."
Meanwhile, Joxer admired the lute that hung above her medicine box. With the wonder of a child, he stroked the handsome wood and ran his fingers up and down the strings. "Hippolyta, do you mind if I play your lute?" he asked charmingly, knowing already what her answer would be.
The healer stopped in the doorway. "All right," she said and then went outside in search of breakfast.
Joxer lifted the instrument carefully from its hook and placed the strap around his chest. With the expertise of many years, he picked up a lively tune that had been one of his mother's favorites. Gabrielle clapped her hands to the beat as Xena filled an iron pot with water and sliced a few carrots with her dagger.
"Joxer, your musical ability hasn't changed a bit," Xena remarked admiringly as she chopped up the carrots with lightning speed. "If anything, you've only gotten better." She always took the opportunity to compliment Joxer on the few abilites he did have. If he and Gabrielle were to ever have a meaningful relationship, his confidence would need a huge boost.
Her praise only made the music more beautiful. As he played the last rousing refrain, Hippolyta came back in carrying a headless, bloodied chicken. Joxer grinned at her sheepishly.
"So, the mighty warrior doesn't want to ruin his deadly hands by cooking, but he plays the lute like a professional? Seems like his priorities are elsewhere," she said jokingly, tossing the chicken to Xena.
"A warrior should have other skills too. After all, Gabrielle is a great bard and Xena can sing like Euterpe," he answered her.
Xena quickly skinned the chicken and hacked it into small pieces suitable for stew. Hippolyta selected a small pouch of dried broth and added it to the pot, which she then put over the fireplace to boil. Both the warrior and the healer found it hard to ignore Gabrielle and Joxer as they kissed passionately in the corner.
"Must you do that?" Hippolyta chided the two as they finally separated. "You might make some of us jealous." Xena noticed her sly wink.
"Sorry, Hippolyta," Gabrielle said. "We can't hardly help it."
The pain cut straight to Hippolyta's heart. She and Gabrielle had so much in common: both fairly young, from small villages, sweet enough but knowledgeable in the event of a fight. More significantly, both were widows. Yet while the healer lived the life of a hermit and mourned her lost Nikos, the bard had the promise of a new life together with Joxer. It made her jealous and sorrowful all at once.
"I'll be outside. Pascha and Argo probably want their breakfast," she said quickly in her whispery voice. Anything to break this awkwardness. Her robes rustled as she hurried to the stables.
Xena, obviously saddened by the healer's emotions, admonished her friends. "You know perfectly well how she feels about love. Can't you both be a little more sensitive?" Her voice softened slightly as she finished.
Neither Gabrielle nor Joxer knew what to say. They merely stood there, arm in arm, like a pair of schoolchildren. Breaking the silence, the warrior woman went outside to find Hippolyta.
"Pascha," sighed Hippolyta, running her hands through the white mane of her husband's, and now her, faithful mare. "By the gods, I miss him. If only he could live on, even through you." She didn't hear Xena enter as she delivered her heartfelt soliloquy.
"Hippolyta," Xena said gently. "Is there anything I can do? You must forgive them. I don't think they quite understand your pain." She sat down next to the healer on a bale of hay. Argo put her golden head over the stall door and her mistress scratched the palomino's chin.
Both women were silent for a moment as each studied the other's face for signs of grief. Hippolyta spoke first. "Xena, for five years I have lived knowing my husband is dead. I know Gabrielle's husband was murdered as well, but while her life holds promise for new love, my life has become an abyss of loneliness. I live on only through my work, and Pascha. I know you have known pain and suffering, being a warrior, but Nikos' death took away my will to live. Now I feel I am dying. Look at me," she said. Indeed, as Xena studied her worn face, she seemed ages beyond thirty winters.
"There's always a reason to live. I once thought as you did, that my life was meaningless. I didn't have anyone. Then I found Gabrielle, and Joxer, and they both showed me that life is a beautiful thing. Sometimes we just have to look especially hard to find that beauty. Now, I can't imagine going on without them." Her blue eyes twinkled and she smiled slightly.
Hippolyta gripped her new friend's hand like a precocious girl. A touch of her former youth was evident in her own stormy grey eyes. "Thank you, Xena. Coming from you, it all sounds right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think our horses are ready to eat." She rose from her seat and picked up the two wooden feed buckets.
Xena brushed herself off. "You're welcome," she whispered to no one in particular. The scent of chicken and garlic met her nostrils. I guess Joxer succumbed to cooking after all, she thought with a wry grin.
Hippolyta pushed the door of her cottage open once more to find Joxer eagerly spooning the chicken stew into clay bowls. "Better come and get some while it's still hot," he chuckled as he handed Gabrielle a serving.
"Ah, yes, Joxer, the Warrior Cook." The healer gratefully accepted her stew and blew at it gingerly. Gabrielle sat down and dipped a biscuit in hers, flirtatiously winking at Joxer as she did so. He took his place at her side.
The three sat in silence for a moment, savoring their breakfasts. Then Gabrielle spoke, slightly alarmed. "Where's Xena?" Her emerald eyes flitted about in search of her friend.
Hippolyta cocked her head. "She was in the stable just a few moments ago. I'll go and fetch her." Robes rustling, she stood up.
Leaving Gabrielle and Joxer, the young horse doctor trotted out once more to the stable. As she entered, Argo and Pascha whinnied in alarm, their brown eyes rolling wildly in their sockets. Something was wrong. The two mares kicked wildly at their stalls and whinnied like banshees.
"Xena?" she called nervously. Silence. Then she looked down. The great warrior was sprawled face-down in the hay, and she was not moving.
"Oh, gods," murmured Hippolyta, crouching beside Xena's fallen form. Her lithe fingers felt at Xena's neck for a pulse. It was there, and racing madly. With effort, the slight healer turned the warrior's body over and rested her head on a heap of sacking.
"Xena, can you hear me?" Hippolyta asked frantically, checking her friend's vital signs. Something was definitely wrong. Xena's body was feverish and sweaty.
"Anastasios... no, oh no... Run, Gabrielle, save yourself!" She was obviously delirious as she cried out painfully, her eyes still shut.
"Joxer! Gabrielle!" Hippolyta screamed at the top of her lungs. "Come here, now! I need you!" She was surprised at the power of her normally soft voice.
The two sweethearts rushed in, Joxer nearly tripping as he did so. They hurriedly joined Hippolyta at Xena's side.
"Is she?" Gabrielle gasped, catching her breath. Fear and shock were etched into her lovely face.
"Joxer, pick her up and take her to my bed. Now!" the healed practically bellowed at him. "Her life may depend on it."
As if he were cradling a baby, the young man lifted Xena and took her back into the cottage as fast as his legs would go. She struggled slightly, her angular face a mask of agony. Gabrielle matched Joxer's every pace and stroked Xena's long, ebony hair.
"Xena, you'll be all right. Hippolyta will help you," she said, trying to remain calm.
The warrior was placed gently on the soft pile of blankets next to the fire. While Joxer and Gabrielle waited nervously, Hippolyta barged into the room and quickly searched her medicine chest. Breathing a sigh of relief, she grabbed a few unidentifiable vials and pouches and hurried over to the makeshift hospital bed.
"Motherwort, coltsfoot, anise," she mumbled to herself as she placed a small mortar and pestle on the floor. Expertly she poured a small measure of a thick, pungent brown oil and mixed some dried herbs into it. Satisfied, she turned to the bard.
"I need you to hold her down. She is delirious and she'll probably resist." Gabrielle, having been in the same situation many times before, obliged without hesitation.
"Xena, if you can hear me," she began, a look of pure determination on her face, "lie still. This is to help you," she whispered and held Xena's arms with all her strength. Hippolyta spooned a small amount of the elixir and tried to force her unconscious patient to swallow it.
Violently, Xena lashed out. The spoon clattered to the wooden floor and broke in two. Gabrielle was sent sprawling on her backside and Hippolyta's green robes nearly caught fire as Joxer looked on, terrified.
"No!" the Warrior Princess shrieked to the phantoms in her nightmare, thrashing wildly. "I won't let them!" As quickly as she had started, she lay still and unmoving.
All three friends were shaken by her outburst. Hippolyta spoke softly to the bard and her lover.
"Gabrielle, Joxer, listen to me. Be soft, since I think she can hear us, even though she can't respond. If I am correct, Xena has what is known in these parts as cat's bane. It comes on quickly, as you see, and starts with high fever, delirium, and refusal to eat or drink, eventually ending in coma and death. I have only seen one other case in my lifetime. I can only delay its progress, maybe a month if I am lucky. There is no known cure, except..." She trailed off, tears filling her odd grey eyes.
"Except what? You tell me what it is, Hippolyta. I won't let my best friend die. Xena can't leave me," Gabrielle shouted in a wild display of anger and sorrow. She wept bitterly as Joxer cradled her in his arms.
"There is one hope, however slim. Follow me," Hippolyta said softly, rising and crossing her living area. She pulled a tattered scroll from her collection of medicinal lore and maps. As Gabrielle and Joxer gaped, she unfurled it.
"Cat's bane can be cured by the water from the Spring of Thryda, in the Land of the Black Horses. Or so the story goes. It's only a myth, you understand. My mother told me that story many times when I was a girl."
Gabrielle read aloud from the scroll as Joxer curiously peered over her shoulder. It was in the form of a poem, with a strange map drawn of an unfamiliar northern land. Along the coast lay a small archipelago, with one island inked bright red for emphasis. The bard read the poem:
Who seeks the water from the Spring
Must sacrifice his everything
Follow the Bear who roams the night
Apollo's chariot to your right
Cross the plains, but friend, beware
These hungry mouths can eat a mare
If you doth live, then scale the hills
That turn to peaks, whose fragrance kills
If still you seek the Thryda waters
Find a soldier, and his daughters
He'll guide you there, it won't be long
You must avoid the deadly song
The isle of Horses, bathed in frost
You must find, or all is lost.
She clutched the scroll to her chest. "It's so beautiful, but what does it mean?"
Joxer furrowed his brows in thought. "Bears and daughters, mouths and horses, it sounds pretty cryptic to me."
Gabrielle glanced at him, surprised. "Say that again, Joxer."
"I said, it sounds pretty cryptic to me." He looked at her as if seeking approval.
"That's it! It's all a code. We need this poem to find the Spring of Thryda." Gabrielle practically crowed with joy, while the healer and the lutist looked at her as if she were insane.
"Are you sure? It must go along with the map," Hippolyta said, tracing the faded print with one delicate finger.
"It has to be. Joxer, we have to save Xena," Gabrielle stated gravely. He looked into her beautiful eyes, and never had he seen more love and determination. Nothing would convince the young bard otherwise. "Are you coming with me?"
"Everywhere you go, so do I." He was gentle as he embraced her warmly.
Hippolyta whispered softly to the young couple. "I'll have to restrain and sedate Xena. She would never approve of you two wandering off like this, even to save her. Maybe you can make sense out of that poem."
After Hippolyta had bound Xena to the bed and administered a sedative, the two would-be questers sat down to examine the strange verse.
"Well, I guess we should take it line by line," Joxer said, absently putting his finger on the red island. "Remember, it's all in the wording."
Gabrielle read aloud once more. "Who seeks the water from the Spring, must sacrifice his everything. That's pretty obvious. If we are going to find the cure, we have to take only what is necessary with us."
The healer gently interrupted her. "You'll certainly need a horse, as you have very little time. Take my Pascha. She is in her twilight years, but she was once a great war steed, and she still has plenty of energy. Joxer, I'm sure you know this." Without realizing it, the young man fingered the silver pendant with the image of the stallion he still wore. Persephone's gift and reminder. Yes, he remembered well.
Nodding her head in agreement, Gabrielle continued as she held the ancient scroll. "Follow the Bear who roams the night, Apollo's chariot on your right."
"Usually bears that roam the night attack travellers," Joxer volunteered nervously. "I mean, I've only seen a few, and they're killers."
"But look. 'Bear' is capitalized. It must mean a specific bear, or a person called the Bear." Nervously, Gabrielle scratched her chin.
"Unless it means the bear in the night sky." Both Gabrielle and Joxer turned to face Hippolyta. "Besides being a healer, I know all about astronomy. I think the bear the poem refers to is the Great Bear, the constellation in which the North Star can be found."
"Of course! I saw that bear once too, but Xena didn't. North, which means the rising sun, Apollo's chariot, is on our right. We travel north." The bard was excited at having cracked another of the mysterious rhymes. "That island chain must be far to the north, even more so than Britannia."
Joxer took over reading the poem as Gabrielle tickled him playfully with her quill. "Cross the plains, but friend, beware, these hungry mouths can eat a mare." He frowned, trying to comprehend the lines. "I think we're going to find out about the hungry mouths when we actually get there. The plains must be Macedonia and Thrace, just north of here. My father fought all sorts of battles up there. He practically lived up in those badlands."
"Good idea, Joxer. Maybe the mouths are of wolves, or wildcats?"
"Maybe, I think my father mentioned some wolves." He read on. "If you live, then scale the hills, That turn to peaks, whose fragrance kills." He set the scroll down to seek his companions' interpretation.
"A mountain range, I guess?" came Gabrielle's guess as she closely examined the faded map. "It looks like there might be some mountains drawn there." "Watch out for that 'fragrance that kills,' whatever that might be. There are quite a few toxic plants and trees in the mountains." The herbal healer spoke her piece.
"If still you seek the Thryda waters, find a soldier and his daughters."
"But there's so many soldiers, and that's barbarian territory. How are we supposed to know which soldier?" Gabrielle asked.
"I have a feeling he might find us. Maybe he's a guide, or his daughters are."
She leaned over Joxer's shoulder and examined the next lines. "You're probably right, because look: 'He'll guide you there, it won't be long, You must avoid the deadly song.'" She paused momentarily to think, her brows creasing in concentration. "Deadly song. Sounds like the Sirens, or something like them, to me."
Joxer finished reading. "The isle of Horses, bathed in frost, you must find, or all is lost."
"That pretty much sums it up. Xena's life rests in your hands." Hippolyta's words were like the tolling of a bell.
Gabrielle took the scroll from Joxer and carefully rolled it up. "We must leave as soon as possible. There's no time to lose."
As she spoke, Xena moaned pitifully from the depths of her coma as she fought the spirit warriors in her dreams.
Hippolyta took Joxer out to the barn to prepare Pascha for the long journey. "You won't need the armor this time, only a good sturdy saddle and panniers," the young healer told him, bustling about to collect the supplies. In awe, Joxer stroked the black leather battle armor, carefully restored after the fight and returned to its place of honor on the wall. I wore that, he thought to himself in wonder. He lifted Pascha's well-worn leather saddle from its rack along with a blanket and girth. Hippolyta led the huge mare from her stall and slipped the bridle over her massive head.
"Joxer, Pascha is an obedient and kind mare, but she is no longer young. She has a great deal of endurance, but be sure to rest her often, especially going over the mountains. Let her forage for herself; she knows what to eat. Oh, and don't dehydrate her," Hippolyta advised as she fitted the tack quickly.
The young man nodded, taking in the advice. "I will," he said. He was no horse expert, even after being reincarnated as one.
Under her breath, the horse doctor quickly added, "If she should happen to break her leg, please don't let her suffer. Make it quick and get another horse. It would break my heart to know she was in pain."
Joxer swallowed hard. "You have my word." Shuddering slightly, he remembered Anastasios' grievous war wounds and the terrible accompanying pain.
"Now get her outside and tether her. I'll get your provisions."
As she hurried away, Joxer stood alone with the white mare. He felt a trace of his old tremendous fear rising in his heart, like a vial of icy water. He struggled to force it down. It was obvious that he, Gabrielle, Pascha, or all three would be very unlikely to return.
Grappling with this thought, he took Pascha outside as Argo, sadness in her brown eyes, looked on.
Gabrielle knelt at Xena's bedside, a sad smile on her lovely face. Tears glistened in her emerald eyes as she held them back. "Xena, Joxer and I are going to find the cure. We'll be back before you know it." She hesitated, as if waiting for the response she knew could not come. She ran a tender hand over her best friend's flushed, drawn cheek. "Remember what you told me during the Persian invasion?" Now the tears came unchecked. She stifled a hoarse sob. "You said, 'Even in death, Gabrielle, I will never leave you.' I want you to remember that, Xena. Even if I don't make it, or you don't, we'll always be together." The last few words were almost inaudible as her weeping took over. With a final gesture of friendship, Gabrielle pulled the blanket over Xena's exposed shoulder and smiled softly. "I'll miss you, Xena. And I will come back."
She went to help Hippolyta and Joxer gather supplies. The firelight danced and cast shadows on Xena's face, and the bard could have almost sworn she smiled in return.
Joxer packed the items Hippolyta had set out into a leather haversack: dried meat and fruit, flour, small amounts of oil, spices, waterskins, and a flask of wine. With slight hesitation he added the medicines she had allotted them, shivering at the prospect of their use. Satisfied that everything was in the sack, he tied it and slung it over one shoulder. Gabrielle had a sack of her own with her scrolls, the map, clothes, rags, flint and tinders, and a kit to repair Pascha's saddle and bridle if necessary. She carried her stout Amazon staff in her free hand, and Joxer wore his sword around his waist. They didn't have room to carry other weapons with the exception of a pair of daggers.
"Are you ready?" Joxer asked his beloved.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
As if on cue, the two dropped their bundles and shared a heartfelt embrace. Neither wanted to let go.
Hippolyta held Pascha's reins as Gabrielle attached the saddle bags and Joxer fed her some carrots. After everything was lashed into place, the bard mounted in front and Joxer behind. Each wore a woolen cloak over their clothes, and Gabrielle had exchanged her skirt and top for a more practical soft linen shirt, loose leather pants and her boots.
Joxer wore his tunic and vest, pants and boots. "I will take care of Xena, but remember, you only have a month at best. Watch the moon; it will tell you how much time you have. It is a waxing crescent now." Concern was evident in Hippolyta's soft voice as she spoke.
"We will come back. I promised Xena." Gabrielle took the mare's reins in hand.
"Good luck, then, and may the gods see you safely home."
"Thanks for everything, Hippolyta. We'll miss you. Please make sure Xena is all right," Joxer added. He rarely wept, but now tears flowed freely down his cheeks.
Gabrielle tapped the mare's side gently and she departed at a fast trot. Hippolyta watched as they disappeared over the ridge to the mysterious lands beyond. Never had the healer felt so alone.