As the 'Cradle of Hermes' approached Andros, the blue haze of distance was replaced by the green of pine trees. Largest of the Cyclades, Andros provided a good living for its people through the bounty of its forests. Philo was stopping here to deal in wood and resin. The latter was used to seal jars and open wounds with equal efficacy, though the resin's disinfectant power was not fully understood for centuries.
Some people had acquired a taste for pine-flavored white wine, and put resin in the fermenting grape juice. Possibly, this was a result of resin-sealed wine jars. In any event, retsina, as it is known today, was popular among the Amazons. Gabrielle had acquired the taste, too, and almost before the ship had docked at Gavrion she was ashore, seeking to augment her supply of resin and pick up a skin of retsina or two.
Ducks scattered before the determined bard, who was fully prepared to shop 'til she dropped. Behind her, there was even more plaintive quacking, the result of Xena's decision to supplement the ship's larder. Underneath the noise, a barely discernable "whoosh" heralded the decapitation of a number of the birds. Gabrielle turned to see her best friend holding up the carcasses in triumph. She shrugged and began to bargain with the owner of a small shop just beyond the quay.
"The young lady's pretty handy with that round thing," the merchant observed.
"Yeah, but I've got to pluck the feathers and cook those birds. Duck's a little greasy for me. You have retsina?"
"Best this side of Euboea. Five dinars the skin."
"Right. Maybe one dinar. This isn't Euboean retsina, it's only the local stuff."
"Ah, but it will take the greasy edge off that duck. Four."
The bard smiled. "What do you take me for, a farm girl on her first trip? Three dinars for two skins."
"I've got a family to feed," he wheedled, "and I can't do that by giving away my goods to every pretty girl that comes along. Three dinars apiece."
"Okay, you hit a weak spot. I like it when people say I'm pretty. Eight for three skins."
"Done. Only telling the truth, miss." He began to hand over the retsina, but caught Gabrielle's arm instead as the bard suddenly staggered. "Say, you haven't started in already, have you?"
Gabrielle recovered immediately. "No, just a funny feeling. Suddenly I'm very light, as if someone just took a heavy load off my back." Xena was at her side now, her face a bundle of questions.
"You felt it too? I almost dropped the ducks," the Warrior Princess said.
"Too bad," Gabrielle joked. "Then I wouldn't have to deal with them."
"I could help you clean them," Xena offered.
Am I hallucinating? Gabrielle wondered. Then she did something she had never done before in public: she opened one of her skins of wine and took a long pull at it.
Xena wrinkled her nose. "Retsina. Couldn't you have bought some red wine?" Underneath, her concern grew. This isn't like Gabrielle. I'm not feeling like myself, either. Putting half-forgotten techniques to the test, she reached out psychically, but only felt her bond with Gabrielle, strong as ever, and a vague hint of Joxer. She dismissed the latter. He couldn't possibly have anything to do with this light feeling she had.
"I have red wine," the shopkeeper suggested. "Three dinars the skin." Xena settled at two. By the time they had clasped hands on it, Gabrielle seemed back to normal and Xena had gotten used to the lightness. The bard had already moved to another stall, this one offering antiques.
The Warrior Princess was no shopper. Usually she preferred to pick up gear with a minimum of dickering and let it go at that. Before she chose to follow the greater good, money had never been a problem. Xena could easily take what she wanted, after all. She had booty stashed away since her warlord days, of course, but it felt like blood money to her now. Xena only cashed it in when she had no other choice, as she had done before beginning this voyage. The people she and Gabrielle dealt with were generous with their hospitality, and occasionally the two accepted a gift of food or services. Even more rarely, a king or rich city might press a reward on them that they could not refuse. Thus many a tavern or agora had heard Gabrielle tell a tale or two, and Xena was known to put on a display of riding or chakram throwing; that was how they were able to keep a few dinars in their pouches. A wandering minstrel I, a thing of shreds and patches, Xena mused. Hmmm...that's the kind of image Gabrielle might come up with. Smiling, she rejoined her most beloved friend.
Gabrielle showed Xena an enigmatic figure carved from marble. It represented an earlier period in Cycladic art, before sculptors began to carve the human figure in more detail. "This is pretty good, for old work," the bard said. "It's not like Joxer's, though. I wonder if he'd be any good at working in marble."
Xena gave her a wicked laugh. "I have this picture of Joxer being pinned under a statue of you - in a compromising position!"
"Xena! How could you? Anyway, I meant small pieces, like he does in wood," Gabrielle protested.
"I know," her friend smiled. "Just kidding."
"You? Kidding?" The bard clapped a hand on Xena's forehead. The warrior woman pulled her head away.
"Gabrielle, I do not have a fever."
"You could have fooled me. Maybe you've had too much sun."
"Oh, come off it." Though she was nonchalant on the surface, something was bothering Xena now. Gabrielle is right. I don't make jokes like that most of the time. Am I losing my focus? "I'm just relaxed. You have a good idea there," she said to change the subject. "Why don't you pick up a couple of small blocks and some simple tools for him and see what he turns out?"
"I'll do that." Gabrielle took another pull at her retsina. "You know, Xena, this is weird. I'm really enjoying this trip so far. Even the sea looks good to me."
Whatever it was that hit us back by the docks hit both of us very hard, Xena decided.
The bard took Xena up on her suggestion almost immediately. She found a shop that supplied the gymnasium and local tutors and bought a number of small chisels, polishing tools and three hand-sized chunks of white marble. "This should do the trick," she told her best friend. "The techniques are different, but Joxer should be able to pick them up. For some weird reason, he's good at fine work, like his lute playing. Do you think this is how he fights his past?"
"Could be, Gabrielle. He certainly doesn't want to stay the person he was. You didn't want to stay the person you were. You've come a long way from Poteidaia."
Gabrielle raised the skin of retsina again, but lowered it without drinking. "I think I've had enough of this for now. You're right. I thought all I had to do was leave home and I would be so free and independent. I wasn't, but you taught me teamwork, and now I am as free as I wanted to be."
Xena was relieved to see that Gabrielle was not turning to drink as a means to handle her unusual feelings. "I'll never understand how you can stomach that stuff," she said.
Her partner laughed. "Blame Ephiny. She got me started on retsina after I became an Amazon. Not to mention roaring drunk!"
"How could I forget?" Xena observed. "Especially the look on your face the morning after when Queen Melosa reminded you that both you and Ephiny had pledged to take the blood sisterhood ritual somewhere between her off-key singing and yours, and an oath had to be honored, even when taken in your cups like that."
"Ugh. We were so hung over. Then I lost my breakfast when I slashed my palm. Ephiny and I are bound by a lot more than blood!"
Xena smiled and took Gabrielle's hand. The scar from the ritual was gone, a result of the physical healing both had undergone in Illusia. The mental healing was taking longer, but was just as certain. "For a free woman, you certainly have tied yourself to a lot of people."
"Only the best," the bard replied. "You, Ephiny, Perdicas, my family...even Joxer."
"Joxer, huh? Not many people would put him in that category."
"I know you do, Xena. I've seen you give him a helping hand, especially when you think I'm not looking."
"He's a good man, Gabrielle. I never told you this, but I knew about his father even before we met Joxer. That one was a tough and vicious warlord. I wonder if Joxer is the way he is because he doesn't want to be like his father or his brother Jett. Joxer has a great deal of talent locked up inside him, but it only comes out in an emergency."
"Xena, you may have something there. When he's trying to impress me, he falls flat on his face. When he respects me, he does the sweetest things. He's hard to teach because he's trained himself to not be the mighty warrior he pretends to be, but he learns anyway because he can use the skills for good."
The Warrior Princess nodded, and the two women resumed their tour of the agora. Not unexpectedly, Xena grew tired of the souvenir stalls and offered to bring Gabrielle's gift for Joxer back to the 'Cradle of Hermes' along with the ducks and extra wine while the bard continued to look around. Gabrielle easily acquiesced, knowing her best friend's preferences.
It took only a few minutes to stow everything away. As Xena prepared to leave the ship again, Philo joined her.
"A pretty island, isn't it?" he said. "It's my home, y'know. When I'm not at sea, I love taking the walk from here down to Palaiopolis and back. The 'meltemi' keeps the island cool, and the mountain keeps the 'meltemi' off our backs."
Intrigued, Xena asked, "What's in Palaiopolis that you go there so often?"
"They've got a nice statue of Hermes. He's my luck, he is. That's why the old tub's called 'Cradle of Hermes.' A cute little trickster, that Hermes, 'specially when he was young. I give him a sacrifice each trip. He's treated me right, I treat him right. Say, why don't you and yer friend join me? Stretch those muscles of yours. I wouldn't mind yer helping me with the bargain for the ox, now. Yer real good, and Hermes likes yer sort. He'd be giving me a bit more luck, too."
Statues of gods hardly interested Xena, but she knew Gabrielle would enjoy the walk. Remembering how she had almost lost Gabrielle to Najara because she wasn't much on scenery or birds or flowers, she decided that Gabrielle was right. Appreciating the beauty of nature didn't hurt her focus in the least.
"Why not? Gabrielle's the bargaining expert anyway. She's in the agora. Let's ask her."
The bard did not need to be asked twice. Quickly concluding the purchase of a hair clip that caught her fancy, she was soon pointing out the doves wheeling around a circular tower outside of town.
"Legend says old Andros settled this island, and he's buried there," Philo told them. "Don't b'lieve it myself. 'Tis just the name for 'a man.' Ho! In the tower!" he called, and waved as the three approached.
A guardsman poked his head out of a window. "Ho! Philo! You dog, what'll yer wife say when you bring home those two lovelies ya got wit'cha?"
The sea captain threw back his head and laughed, then pointed a gnarled finger at the tower. "She'd be a-scurrying to find husbands for 'em, but not any the likes of you!" He laughed again, and gave the two women a friendly wink.
Gabrielle immediately understood that Philo was kidding, but she wasn't so sure about Xena. To her surprise, the Warrior Princess also laughed aloud and clapped Philo on the back.
I've never seen Xena much happier than this. Maybe something was lifted from both our souls. I have to admit, I like her this way.
"How's the trip so far?" the guardsman called.
"Pretty fair," Philo replied. "On m'way to share with Hermes."
"Good luck to you, then!"
"And to you!"
The walk continued cool and pleasant along beautiful beaches, the pine-laden mountain always to their left. They passed a fishing village of whitewashed houses, some with light blue trim. In the strong summer sun, dark colors were simply not practical, and the locals made the insides of their homes the colorful places. Beyond the village, there were more beaches.
The distance to Palaiopolis was not very much longer than that from Olynthus to Poteidaia, despite the occasional rocky projection across the coast road. The walkers were able to refresh themselves from some of the many fresh springs found on the island. Outside the town, Gabrielle had another sip of retsina, while Xena shared her red wine with Philo.
They proceeded directly to the temple of Hermes, where Gabrielle found the statue impressive indeed. Now it was time to purchase an ox for the sacrifice, and Philo again prevailed upon the women to help him with the bargaining.
"You're on," Gabrielle replied. She had Xena join her in looking over the animals for sale, and the Warrior Princess, who had stolen a few cattle in her day, helped play along.
"Well, here's one that just might make it to the temple on its own four feet," Xena said.
The vendor, who had been exchanging pleasantries with Philo, ran over in horror to the women, protesting that his beasts were in excellent condition. Then it was Gabrielle's turn, proposals and counterproposals flying as thick as thrusts and parries in swordplay. Words and ideas were her calling, and from her childhood in Poteidaia, she knew the values of things. The seller, used to dealing with the locals and the occasional wide-eyed visitor, knew to the dinar what the typical customer would settle upon. However, he had not reckoned with this strawberry blonde, green-eyed angelic-faced spitfire. He made his profit, of course, but it was somewhat thinner than usual.
The captain ran a hand through his short salt-and-pepper hair and whistled in admiration when the bargain was sealed. "That's a quarter less than I'd pay for an ox like that."
Gabrielle grinned broadly. "Back in Poteidaia they used to say, 'Watch out for gabby Gabby; she can bargain the whiskers off a tabby.'"
"So that's where Xena got it from. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," the Warrior Princess replied. Together they coaxed the animal to the temple, where Philo paid a modest fee to the priests to perform the sacrifice.
"Mind ya, don't just wrap a little fat on the thigh bones," he directed. "A full third of the best meat to Hermes. He invented the sacrifice, y'know, and always takes his share first. You ladies want a snack?" Both Xena and Gabrielle nodded. "A couple of good cuts for my friends here, and one for me, and the rest for you. Nothing too big for us - we're walking back afterwards."
Because Philo sacrificed regularly at this temple, the priests provided some bread for the travelers, and they enjoyed a quick meal while Philo spun a few sea yarns. Xena, surprisingly, offered up a fish story and Gabrielle contributed a couple of anecdotes from her travels. A little bit of cool melon from a nearby stand topped everything off.
They briefly explored the town, then headed back the way they came. Gabrielle tried to coax some of the ever-present doves to her hands but failed.
"They probably think you want to eat them," she successfully accused Xena. Then she sighed with pleasure. "Things just feel so good. Too bad Joxer's not here. He'd like it."
"Joxer? Xena raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted him to find himself, not find us."
"Yeah, but how much does he have to find? On days like this, he behaves himself, anyway. He's a nice guy, Philo, a little silly at times, but he means well."
"I take it this Joxer is a friend of yers," Philo remarked. "He'd certainly be welcome here on Andros. Is he yer sweetheart, lass?"
"Olympus, no!" she exclaimed, perhaps a shade too vehemently.
But ya like having him around, the captain observed. Ya don't look like the cruel type, lass. Aye, ya love him and ya don't know it. He smiled. "In my younger days I chased a lass like you. Married her, too."
They stopped briefly at the fishing village and bought some lobsters for Philo's evening meal. Gabrielle refused to watch as the crustaceans were placed in the boiling pot, but had no objections to the result. When they returned to Gavrion, Philo brought the women to his home, where his fair-haired wife gave them both a friendly greeting. They declined the invitation to stay the evening, however. Both knew that Philo and his wife had some catching up to do, and so Xena and Gabrielle made their way back to the 'Cradle of Hermes.'
Once more in their crowded accommodations, Gabrielle took Xena's hand. "Thanks," she said. "I know you don't go in for much of that stuff."
"Maybe I should, Gabrielle. I can see everything a warrior needs to see, but you see more than I do. When I first flew a kite, it was a means to an end. You saw something bright, exciting and new, and it didn't get in the way of the job."
"No, but my head kept getting in the way of your falling kites!" The bard rubbed her scalp, remembering those incidents.
Xena chuckled. "I like it when you share with me. And you're right; there's usually time to stop and smell the flowers. I'll try to do that more often with you."
"And here I thought all you cared for was the smell of roast duck!"
"Aha! I knew you wouldn't let me forget. All right, Gabrielle, lead the way."
In a flurry of feathers and shared jokes, Gabrielle and Xena plucked and cleaned the ducks Xena had obtained earlier.
The gateway to Thessaly was pretty country, full of forested hills and dotted with fertile valleys here and there. The folks were a little rustic, though not as rough as further north in Illyria, Thrace or Macedon. This was more a country for hunters, as Boeotia was for cattlemen and Attica for vineyards and olive groves. As the hills yielded to fertile plains, towns also came into view.
Joxer hadn't traveled very far from Amazon territory, but the feel of the place was different. He knew he wasn't being constantly watched, but it wasn't as safe, either. Helping his friends the Amazons had put a confident spring in his step despite his foreboding about the future. His bearing dissuaded the few bandits who might have waylaid him otherwise. They preferred unwary travelers to an armed and armored - even goofily armored - warrior.
Unmolested, then, Joxer made his way to the valley of the river Peneus. He had been there before, though the memories were unpleasant ones: honest people deceived by Dahak...kidnappings...raids...Callisto...Gabrielle falling, falling...Xena utterly lost...scouring the countryside for daisies...
He camped one night beside the river. Xena had shown him a few things about fishing, but dinner eluded him and he settled for some wild berries and a little dried venison the Amazons had thoughtfully added to his provisions before the atonement ceremony.
Nice girls, those Amazons. No wonder Gabby fits in so well with them. They love life as much as they love their freedom.
Not so long ago he might have had a few of Meg's girls dress up as Amazons. He knew some of her customers liked that sort of thing. He was glad he had never followed up on the idea. Even before he had begun to respect Gabrielle, it just felt natural to him to treat the Amazons as regular people. Most other women scared him half to death, but he felt comfortable with the Amazons, the way he felt when he wasn't pushing himself on Gabby and they were relaxing together.
Joxer picked a small bunch of daisies and placed it by his bedroll, remembering some of the better times he had shared with Gabrielle. There were the kisses, of course, always too few but so very sweet...best of all were the rare times when she had kissed him of her own will instead of being under one or another love spell.
As his attitude toward her grew more serious and thoughtful, she treated him more seriously, too. At Xena's urging Gabrielle had begun to train Joxer on the staff. As usual, it was slow going, and Gabrielle tended to knock Joxer down frequently. Each time, however painful, he got up. Eventually a few basic techniques found their way into his awkward swings. He even swept Gabrielle off her feet once - with his staff, that is - though she rolled back up immediately. She remained patient with him, remembering the near-torture Ephiny had put her through years before.
A very proud moment came when Joxer taught Gabrielle how to do his disarming trick with the sword. He had even been allowed to demonstrate on Xena, because Gabby flatly refused to believe he had ever disarmed the Warrior Princess. After that session Gabrielle had thrown her arm around him in comradely fashion and given him a playful squeeze.
It was precisely those simple, unforced moments that cheered him now. He had danced with her, played the lute for her, helped set up and break down many a camp with her, and often just walked quietly as she showed Xena and him the fascinating things she kept discovering. For Xena these things were often familiar and commonplace, yet Gabby gave them new life, and as for Joxer, he couldn't decide which he liked better: the new things themselves or the fact that she would share them with him. It might be a brightly-colored leaf or insect, a striking thought, a double acorn or just the shape of a cloud.
"Now I've seen everything," she had giggled once. "That cloud over there looks like your helmet." After a couple of squints, it did. Others looked like a cottage, a fawn and a maiden delicately brushing long hair that stretched to the horizon, as Gabby described them. Because he would listen to her, Gabrielle would often use him as a sounding board to try out different phrasings when she composed her stories. Xena often got bored with this, but Joxer never tired of Gabrielle's voice or her tales.
In Gabby's hands, even a spray of daisies could transform a rough camp into a comfortable place to stay the night. Joxer would pick some for her when he could, trying his best not to overdo it, and each time Gabrielle accepted the flowers with a smile. Whenever she had a chance she stood them in a crack in the rocks, or sometimes in an empty vial. Occasionally, he noticed Xena meditating, her gaze on the flowers, utterly at peace.
He drifted out of his reverie and saw the daisies before him. He, too, had been at peace, and he smiled. Tonight, he did not feel lonely.
Hey, Aphrodite. Just wanted to say 'thanks' for answering my prayer. Even without her loving me, Gabby's a great friend. Give her happiness and a full life with her true love, whoever that is.
There might have been a hint of the fragrance of rose petals as he drifted off to sleep.
Tinos was another island known for marble, and at the port of Panoramos the 'Cradle of Hermes' was taking on ornate marble carvings from the nearby town of Pyrgos, which was not the same Pyrgos Xena and Joxer had rescued from Aralaus months earlier. It is a beautiful island, full of rolling farmlands and featuring many small villages.
Xena strolled with Gabrielle through the port, the bard picking out more little trinkets like combs and small pouches to remember the trip. Then they set off into the countryside, where Gabrielle finally got some doves to eat a few crumbs from her hands. In minutes the she was twirling, arms outstretched, while fascinated doves flew all around her. Xena was fascinated, too. Gabrielle usually didn't get along with animals of any sort as quickly as she had here.
It's that lightheartedness we're both feeling. Gabrielle hasn't been so joyful since the days before we went to Britannia.
Later, Gabrielle took her turn assisting the ship's cook. The stop at Tinos was short, and Philo set course for Mykonos. Back at sea, Gabrielle remained in an out-of-the-way corner of the deck catching up on her writing, when she wasn't telling stories to the off-duty seamen. The bard still relied on her pressure points to stave off seasickness, but after several extended voyages, her need seemed much less this time.
Joxer found himself in somewhat more civilized country when he reached the trading center of Larissa. Thoughts of Gabrielle had cheered him, but done little to ease the load he was carrying in his soul. He had begun to realize that its release depended on his soul-searching quest, and so decided to continue and let his heart guide him. Relinquishing a few of his scant dinars for the simple public bath, dinner and lodging, he thought he might run into a trader here and hire on as a guard.
He managed to resist the temptation to drink too much, and retired early after listening to some of the songs and stories a travelling bard offered. It reminded him too painfully of Gabrielle. He didn't know where she was, and yet she felt very close.
I guess I'm carrying her sins around after all. Hard to believe she had any.
He also felt close to Xena, and rack his brains as he might, he had no explanation for that. Oh, well, where Gabby goes, there goes Xena. Maybe that's it.
Picking up a piece of hardwood, Joxer began to carve the figure of Artemis he had promised the goddess. This relaxed him, and not long afterwards he put down his handiwork, extinguished the candle and fell asleep.
The next morning, he went straight to the agora, where several traders were bellowing orders to subordinates to purchase this item or that, or to stow their gear, or supervising the loading of pack animals. He got a feeling that he should avoid the nearest and choose the next one he came to. This he did.
"Hi, you," the merchant cried to a porter. "That's Corinthian black-figure pottery in that box! Don't just toss it on the cart like a netful of fish!"
"Excuse me, sir..."
"Hold it! Can't you teamsters keep your animals still? I'm paying you good money to bring my merchandise intact to Olynthus! Intact, I say, not in a million parts to be pieced together when we get there! You there, make sure there are no rips in those sacks of barley! What can I do for you, boy?"
"If you need a guard, Joxer the Mighty is your man!"
"Yeah, yeah, go see the paymaster standing by the third cart. Tell him I sent you. I'm Bromos." They clasped hands, then Bromos waved Joxer off in dismissal. The would-be warrior trudged over to the indicated cart, where he signed the usual agreement to protect Bromos and his goods above his own life and pledged not to steal from him. The pay wasn't bad, and neither was the destination.
His arrival among the other guards provoked great hilarity. "What can you do, make the bandits laugh themselves to death?" one sneered.
"Oh yeah?" Joxer replied. "I'll have you know that I trained - I mean, I've been in training with Xena!"
"Sure, and I'm Gabrielle," a second chortled. He could hardly have been less like her, being dark, out of shape and with a dirty growth of stubble on his chin.
Joxer hit him in the belly. Sucking for air, the man pulled his sword, only to see it fly from his grasp as Joxer disarmed him with a quick clang of sword on gauntlet. For a second Joxer stood dumbfounded, then he realized what he had just done and fainted.
Someone threw water in his face and he came to. The man whom he had disarmed offered him a hand and helped him stand. "A neat trick, that was. If you're so touchy about Gabrielle, you must have met her, which means you met Xena. I believe your story now."
He was welcomed all around, and joined the others in waiting for Bromos to finish his last-minute preparations, which soon stretched into last-hour preparations. The men sat and chewed on fresh bread, cheese and olives purchased from nearby stalls. Joxer took out his lute and played an old song about Corinth. His singing wasn't much, but it kept everyone from being bored to death.
"Hey, we've got a bard this trip," a man said.
"No, I just play a little," Joxer denied.
Bromos arrived. He sucked in his gut and produced a prodigious roar that shook his long brown hair and threatened to cause his cap to pop off.
"I thought I was paying you to be guards, not lazy gymnasium students! Get up now and take your places. We're moving out."
The chief guard assigned Joxer to the rear, where he was promptly surrounded by the choking dust thrown off by the carts as they moved along the unpaved road.
Another day, another dinar, he thought. Joxer shrugged and tied a cloth around his mouth.