The Xanthus Ecumenical Nautical Acceptance was quite different from most other religious orders. Established on the coastline of southern Asia, the necessity of being able sailors and staying on good relations with the God of the Sea had quickly been impressed upon them. However, whereas most Brethren and Sisterhoods started off devout and gradually faded into casual spreading of their God on afternoons off when there wasn't much on, the assorted sisters were cutting out the middleman and had adopted a more flexible stance;

As soon as they could handle a boat and qualified as sisters, members of the order were sent in groups on a fast galley around the Aegean, Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas to find all the best beaches, tavernas and casinos and have a generally fun time. And since they were on good terms with the God of the Sea, that was where they got all the recruitment done.

Having come to an 'arrangement' with the harbourmasters of all the minor and major ports, the galley pulled into port and picked up a selection of wealthy men and women looking for a passage. About halfway through the journey - usually in the middle of nowhere - the Galley came to an abrupt halt until all the passengers paid a hefty membership fee to the "Friends of Poseidon Society" and agreed to worship him. Any passengers reluctant or unwilling to cough up the readies, had their mind concentrated upon the occasional appearance of a giant squid just happening to swim by the stationery vessel. Hence the saying by the Sisters as they paid into the Harbour Masters Benefit Fund - "Here's that sick squid I owe you."

"Well?" Xena asked, looking up from cleaning and sharpening her sword and chakrams.

"Lots of news, none of it good," Gabrielle replied, letting out a deep breath as she sat down. "Centaurs, wars and a power struggle."

"Didn't your idea of the Amazon Council work?"

"Yes and no - she switched it around so now I'm under pressure to do something," the blonde pouted. "One moment she was on the run, the next my leadership was in question and what was I going to do about it?"

"She wants the power," Xena summed up, referring to Saha. "But not the responsibility."

"She never puts a foot wrong," Gabrielle agreed. "And she knows the Amazon Book of Law inside and out."

"Then you'll have to do the same," her comrade pointed out. "You won't be able to take control from her until you do."

Gabrielle groaned aloud at the thought of going through every scroll that made up the Amazon Book of Law. "Do you know how many scrolls I'll have to go through?"

"You're the Bard - reading should appeal to you," Xena said unsympathetically, ignoring the withering look she got in return. "What's this about the centaurs?"

"A centaur was found on Amazon land with bags of gold and a blowpipe. Unofficially, I'm now in charge of the murder investigation," Gabrielle answered. "Saha told me confidentially - but I have the feeling that the rest of the council will also be told confidentially."

"And officially?"

"It's ongoing."

"That woman could teach Autolycus a few tricks," Xena observed. "Time for Plan B, I -"

Whatever Plan B was Xena didn't have time to elaborate on, as 'that woman' came by with Bolux and guards in attendance. Saha had a broad smile that Xena nor Gabrielle liked the look of. It was the kind of smile that implied the wearer was planning something very nasty and it wasn't happening to her.

"I don't remember sending for you Saha," Gabrielle said haughtily, emphasising her higher Royal status over a mere official. "If and when your service is required, you'll be sent for."

"You just trot along and carry out your duties," Xena said mockingly.

"Sadly, it is my duties that bring me here," Saha replied, her countenance not twitching an iota. "The recent fever striking down some of the Council - with unfortunate side effects - has been located to the food served the other night."

"And..?" the High Princess prompted.

"It seems that your friend - sorry, 'Personal Shaman' -" Saha amended herself, making the title sound pretentious. "- was seen by the serving cauldron of the Council."

"So?" Gabrielle repeated.

"Obviously, she'll have to be taken into the care of the Mistress of Healing," the Grand Vizier answered. "A Camp this size needs to keep fevers under control."

"You're losing it," the Warrior Princess said scornfully. "I didn't taste any and I feel fine."

"Oh, but you must be ill," Saha said. "What other reason could there be to be hanging round the cauldron?"

"Are you accusing me of anything?" Xena said dangerously, her right hand casually resting over her chakrams.

"Why? Is there something to be accused of?" Saha said innocently.

The two friends quickly reviewed their options mentally, until they didn't have any at all. With a bad grace Xena rose to her feet, deftly sheathing her sword and chakrams and making it very clear she could get them out again in an instant.

"Hello Xena," Bolux greeted her breezily. "Shouldn't take long to check you over - I'll probably have to keep you until morning cock-crow to be sure."

"It had better only take a short while," the Warrior Princess muttered darkly, her brows knitting into a deep frown.

"Of course, if you are sick, then we'll take you to the Sweating hut and fan you with palm fronds until the sickness leaves you." She reflected a moment. "There is the get-well-quickly option. It doesn't appeal to many, but the recovery is remarkable."

"That sounds better," Gabrielle said brightly.

"You lie face down on a bench whilst a large tub of soapy water is filled, then we take a long hollowed bamboo shoot and funnel the soapy water up your -"

"I won't be taking that option," Xena declared firmly, in the knowledge that it wasn't her mouth the soapy water would be funneled up.

"It does clear out the sickness," Bolux offered.

"That won't be the only thing it clears out," her new patient said grimly.

"Well, with fronds like those who needs enemas?" Saha remarked.

"What are they for?" Gabrielle asked, indicating the guards and ignoring the tasteless comment.

"They're here to ensure your 'personal shaman' doesn't get lost on the way," the Grand Vizier said carefully.

"How thoughtful," Gabrielle said in a pained voice.

"Trot away then," Saha murmured.

"What was that?" Xena wanted to know, rising to her feet.

"It's hot today, Shaman" her antagonist repeated innocently, fanning herself to indicate a scorcher of a day.

"Don't push it," Xena growled, jabbing a finger into her chest.

"Gabrielle, I'll be back before you know it." She gave Saha a withering look as she left with her 'escort'. "Or else."

The guards trooped off with Bolux and Xena in close attendance, leaving Gabrielle and Saha alone. Gabrielle bridged her fingers together thoughtfully, musing on what Xena had said to her. "Saha, would you be good enough to send me all the scrolls of the Amazon Book of Law please?"

"All the scrolls?" her senior advisor replied, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"All. I need to know how the Amazon Nation rules itself when I become High Queen."

"Of course, High Princess. Your wish is my command," Saha said deferentially, curtsying before brushing through the tent door. So, she wants all the scrolls, does she? Oh, she'll get them alright, Saha thought to herself as she marched back to her tent.

As the sun slowly dipped below the mountains, she passed a small group gathered around the main fire of the camp. "Hey, you there! Run down to the Lord of the Files and fetch every single scroll concerning the Amazon book of Law to High Princess Gabrielle."

The huddled Amazons jumped to their feet as they recognised her - even in the lengthening shadows of approaching dusk - and raced off hurriedly in pursuit of her barked instructions.

Instinctively, she turned around as another group arrived by the fire. "Oh, it's you."

The women - each looking like veterans of a dozen campaigns - fell into line behind a dour woman with black hair, who glanced sideways at the Grand Vizier. "Well, Saha - what price this? Your leader's gone and some chit of a girl's next in line."

"Not necessarily," Saha mused aloud. "The eminent High Princess is in some confusion as to what is expected of her. The heady rise from Queen of a minor tribe to High Queen of all Amazons may test her considerably."

"May Artemis guide her," the leader of the women said fervently. "No doubt some humble individual will help shoulder the heavy burden of responsibilities, should the High Princess find herself under pressure."

"Whoever that might be," the redhead replied enigmatically. "But I fear the pressure may take years off her life."

Anyone eavesdropping might not think anything was amiss. But then, irony is a useful tool when watching your words. And as with all tools, it can have a sharp edge.

Brooding in her tent over Xena's enforced separation, a whirr of wheels and tramping of feet outside broke Gabrielle's train of thought. Curious as to the cause of the disturbance, she peered outside to see a small convoy of handcarts brimming with scrolls with scrolls.

A young woman curtsied on her appearance. "That's all, High Princess Gabrielle."

"All?" Gabrielle queried. "What's all?"

"The Amazon Book of Law, as you requested," the girl puffed, catching her breath back. "Where would you like them placed?"

"This is the Amazon Book of Law?" Gabrielle said in surprise at the many, many scrolls.

"Oh yes, High Princess. That is Volume 1 -2," another girl waved by her baggage; "that is Volume 2 Books 1-8," a few scrolls fell over from the indicated cart; "That one is Volume 3 and the others are a mix of errata, debates, famous scholars who wrote up the Book of Law and various scrolls with no title."

"Oh terrific," the recipient commented, wondering how in Tartarus she'd get through all those scrolls before she was made High Queen. "Bring one inside and leave the rest where they are."

"Yes, High Princess," the other nodded. Whilst the first cart was brought in and its contents placed neatly inside the tent, the others were wheeled behind the tent out of sight. Gabrielle waved the youngsters away and took a scroll at random, resting on her bedroll.

She smiled to herself at the thought of Xena being prodded and poked for something she did not have - it wouldn't be long before her patience ran out and started dishing treatment of her own out. Gabrielle cast her eyes upon the gathering of the scrolls and rolled her eyes.

A snow job.

She'd asked for all the scrolls and all the scrolls is what she had. No doubt Saha was delighted with the opportunity to bombard her with useless information and had dug deep to find stationery lists, debates, clerks - anything and everything in fact. She sighed and untied the chosen scroll, readying herself for a long job....

Cyril stopped in the middle of a musty library of sorts, which was dimly lit by high windows and a cut hole in the roof. There was a stairwell to a second floor balcony and the roof, with a long corridor leading off from the ground floor. The more mature sisters of Xanthus, having lived it up in their youth and middle age, were in the library bustling about in search of the Holy Grail.

Unfortunately, none of them knew what it was they were looking for, since their Patron had only ever spoken to them the once. However, in gratitude to all the ready cash - minus overheads, administration costs, ship tax, mermaid stress therapy, with various miscellaneous costs - and frequent worshippers coming to his Temples, he'd hinted that what they were really looking for was in their library. Since then, there was no lack of volunteers among the Order, though it was restricted to novices and the older Sisters as the younger Sisters were needed to run the Galley on the Seas. As a precaution to being so close to the sea, all the scrolls were bound in leather to protect them from water and the salty winds blowing in from the coast. Leather was normally expensive, but this wasn't a problem for the Sisters, having a God for a patron.

Joxer clambered off the centaur's back and looked around. The Sisters were dressed in a simple dress of royal blue with gold trimmings, the novices in sky blue and silver trimmings, bustling about and seemingly in rude health. He pulled the candle out of the cage and gave it a shake, which responded by dripping hot wax on him and the flame flickering slightly.

"STUPID CANDLE!" he grumbled loudly, hastily scraping the wax off before it scalded him. "I CAN'T SEE ANYONE EVEN SLIGHTLY SICK."

Cyril tapped a hoof impatiently on the stone floor. "Look at the candle Boy - a minute or two left yet."

The candle was indeed still burning and melting, a life hanging by a thread unaware of being watched by the dynamic duo. Joxer looked bored as he watched the candle take an eternity to melt an inch of wax, until a few novices walked by and he was suddenly awake and alert. Cyril harrumphed in amusement, shaking his head. "Sorry Boy - not these girls - They're chaste."

"I DON'T BLAME THEM," Joxer grinned. "ALL OVER LYCIA I BET!"

"No, Boy, chaste - not 'chased'," the centaur said, spelling it out. "Strictly dedicated to their God."

"WOW - IT'S LIKE I'M HERMES BUT I CANNOT FLY," Joxer remarked sadly, taking in all the hot-looking novices, their long dark hair flowing free.

"Unless you want to pick an argument with Poseidon?" Cyril said rhetorically, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

There was no answer to this, so the apprentice loaded his crossbow instead, ensuring his fingers were nowhere near the bolt-release. Instinctively, he looked up to the balcony - a Sister was sat upon a stool with a pile of mighty volumes beside her. Avidly reading a tome from a bookcase, she turned a page and her elbow flicked a book, toppling it over the edge.

Joxer whistled tunelessly in a high to low pitch tone as he followed its arc downwards, ending with a crunching noise as the book connected, and released the bolt. The last thing the victim knew about it was looking up from her book on discovering something and then discovering another heavier book rather closer at hand.

"Girls, girls, I found it, I -" she cried gleefully, and stopped mid-sentence. Her hands, which were waving excitedly, were going straight through the bookcase.

"SISTER SOUSTA?" Joxer queried, seeing the wick of her candle peel over. "YOU'RE BOOKED."

"I'm dead again?" the Sister conceded in a resigned tone. "Damn."

"AGAIN?"

"Is Celesta sick then?" she asked pleasantly.

"UM, I'M A BIT CONFUSED," Joxer said, holding a hand up.

"And before, presumably," Cyril added helpfully, folding his arms in anticipation of a long wait.

"YOU'RE SISTER SOUSTA?"

"Yes."

"YOU'RE DEAD."

"Apparently," she remarked nonchalantly, not overly concerned about her recently passed body or the flock of her sisterhood gathered around her.

"AGAIN."

"Ah, I think we have reached the crux of your confusion. Ever heard of reincarnation?"

"COME AGAIN?" Joxer replied, who hadn't.

"That's the one!" she smiled. "Every lifetime I die and then, born again."

"AS THE SAME WOMAN? THAT MUST COME IN HANDY - PREVIOUS LIFE EXPERIENCE and ALL THAT," he commented, intrigued.

She shook her head. "Not really. Lost count how many lives I've had. The only bits I ever remember is this bit and the being born again - everything else is a blur really."

"Ironic, really, " she sighed. "I founded this Order in cahoots with Poseidon so I could have a stress-free fun life. Troubles is, I made one small typo when I wrote the rules to be set in stone."

"WHICH WAS?" Joxer prompted.

"It was meant to be 'Our Order shall be celebrated muchly'..."

Her human companion looked bemused momentarily, then his eyes opened wide as realisation dawned. "OHHH - OH! YOU MEAN...?"

"What with organising the sisterhood, meetings with Poseidon, arranging to get the Galley - well, 'celebrate' became celibate...." Her voice trailed off slightly in embarrassment, having the grace to blush.

"I'm thinking of calling the Sisters 'Nuns' " she mused aloud.

"WHY?" Joxer enquired.

"Because that's what we're getting - None."

"STILL, LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE," the apprentice said cheerfully. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN REINCARNATED AS A MAYFLY OR SOMETHING."

"Oh yes, that sounds fun - born, eat, shag, die," she ended tersely. "Thank the Gods for Poseidon."

"HOW ABOUT IF I ASK HIM TO POP BY TO SAY WHAT THE COCK-UP IN YOUR RULES IS?" Joxer suggested, now a man with connections.

She shrugged. "Tried that a few lifetimes back - he appeared in our swimming baths and hinted there was something in the Temple Library we should know."

A dry cough from Cyril reminded Joxer of his business and he pinched the candlewick. "TIME I WAS GOING," he announced, and lifted his legs over the centaur's back to remount.

"So where's Celesta to?" Sousta asked casually. "We meet regularly every lifetime - not that the chats last long mind you."

"I'M HER APPRENTICE," Joxer explained.

"Ah, I see," the reincarnating Sister said knowingly. She held a thumb out on her right hand and wiggled it at him in an upward movement. "Any chance of a lift? Only I'm due soon on Rhodes."

"TAXI SERVICE, MISS? WHY CERTAINLY!" Joxer said, tongue firmly in cheek. A 'For Hire' sign flashed up beside him in big, friendly letters.

"Good, if you can drop me off in Rhodes - my parents are waiting," she smiled, the sarcasm going right over her head.

"We're going to Dacia next," Cyril interjected, glancing at the last candle. "Up to you if you want to pick up a passenger, Boy."

"COME ON THEN," he said reluctantly, placing the extinguished candle back in the cage. "IT WON'T TAKE A MOMENT."

"Is this your first job then?" Sousta quizzed him as she mounted up behind him. "Only, you've got L-Plates on."

He jammed the cage between his legs and holstered his weapon in the belt, before his hands groped behind him for the offending object. Grimacing with feeling and muttering a few choice oaths under his breath, the L-Plate was shredded into tiny, tiny bits which fluttered randomly downwards as the trio hit the blue yonder at an increasing pace.

"Friend of yours?" the woman asked him innocently.

"Not hardly," Cyril sniggered.

"OOH, SHE WILL SO PAY FOR THAT," Joxer promised grimly, but there was no reply from behind. He glanced around, but she had vanished.

There was a whisper on the wind as he and the centaur trod northwards. "See you in the next life."

Guess that means we passed over Rhodes, Joxer thought to himself. He picked up the last candle absent-mindedly, scraping the wax off the nameplate with a fingernail. "OH, SHIT."

A shadowy moon fell over the Encampment, the main fire standing out like a beacon, torches twinkling like fireflies. Cheery candlelight within a large tent to the rear highlighted a single figure in silhouette against the tent walls.

Inside, she sat upon a stool, leafing through some scrolls - crickets chirruped and the hubbub from the centre of the Camp were the only other sounds to be heard. Sighing with exasperation, she placed the scrolls to one side and reached over for her backpack.

Gabrielle chewed the end of her quill anxiously. That patrol's late back, she thought to herself. It can't take that long to find me.

Something was nagging away at the back of her mind, but she couldn't pin it down. Maybe it was the isolation from Xena? And then there was the issue of the scrolls - so many.. Saha always had a reason for what she did - being petty wasn't it. Careful, cunning and secretive, certainly. But not petty. There must be another motive other than snowing her under scrolls.

She snapped her fingers in realisation. Of course! Saha now had the perfect excuse to exclude her from Council meetings. She could say anything regarding some obscure law and if she, Gabrielle argued, then it could be pointed out that it was all in the relevant scrolls in her tent.

Doubtless for every scroll of meaningless trivia, there was a note overleaf pertaining to another scroll completely. Or not. But she'd have to read every scroll to know. And it'd take an age. "Bloody woman," Gabrielle muttered, pulling out an empty scroll from her backpack.

According to legend, the quill is mightier than the sword. Gabrielle was a warrior in her own right, but Saha was fighting her on ground of her own choosing and leaving her for dead every time. A scroll in your hand may not match a broadsword in a straight fight, but a well-crafted scroll can be just as deadly - particularly ones marked "Death Warrant" or "Execution List". Even scrolls can become a burning issue.

If being unwell meant she got treatment like this, a slight sickness was worth going through. Xena was far from uncomfortable in the Sweating hut; Lying naked on her tummy as her back was gently massaged with scented oil, two lackeys fanned her with palm fronds. Maybe she could be slightly ill for just a little bit longer...

Of course, that didn't getaway from the point that the Mistress of Healing was completely clueless. Massages, however pleasant, weren't going to make anyone better. And as for the alternative of the soapy water - she grimaced even at the thought of it.

She hunched her shoulders slightly as the Masseuse hit a good spot, then tensed - her hackles rose and were in over drive. Oh great. One of the Gods - what would they want here? she thought to herself, inclining her head to left and right as she reasoned who of the Olympians could be here.

Not Ares or Aphrodite. Artemis? Maybe. A major gathering of the Amazons for the future. Why now and who would she speak to?

Now her instincts kicked in, sounding alarm bells. Gabrielle. Something was very, very wrong.

She raced out of the tent, grabbing her weapons and a smock to cover her modesty. Taking the high route, she somersaulted onto a pavilion and skipped from tent to tent at record pace, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble at Gabrielle's tent......

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