“Are you sure you won’t change your mind and join us?” Gabrielle asked once more, knowing what the answer would be.
“I should be asking you the same thing. There is still room on the ship for both you and Xena,” she offered as she took the
shorter woman’s hands in hers. “We do make… an incredible team.”
At her words, Gabrielle smiled for a moment, then grew serious. “I know but… I want to go home, and besides, you would
die if you had to live on the land.” The Greek woman’s voice was firm as she bolstered her courage.
“Then, you will be going home tomorrow,” Zara nodded as she moved to her weapons and wrapped the scimitar belt around
her waist.
“Once we bail out Xena’s horse from the stables, yes, first thing in the morning,” Gabrielle added as she moved to the
Moroccan and helped her with the belt, and various weapons. “I just wish… I’m afraid what I earned in telling stories today
will only bail Argo. We’re going to have to leave the tack behind.”
The captain saw the concern in the woman’s eyes. Her immediate guilt settled in. “I’m sorry, Gabrielle. Had I know about
this before Alexandria I would have set some aside to help you and Xena retrieve your property.”
“It’s not your fault, Zara. I didn’t really think about it until I saw the shores of Athens. Then I remembered how we had left
Argo at the stable to be cared for until we returned.” She waved away the Moroccan’s concerns. “Don’t worry, I’ve ridden
bare back before. It won’t kill me.”
The tall woman examined Gabrielle’s eyes closely. When she felt assured of the blonde’s words, she nodded as she lightly
touched her cheek with the back of her fingers. “Then, I will wish you a safe journey to your home, Healer Gabrielle.”
“And to yours as well,” the warrior bard smiled up at her as she took Zara’s hand and kissed her palm.
As if nothing more needed to be said, she grew silent as she pulled her Moroccan cape over her shoulders. When they left
the room, they walked down the stairs hand in hand, but as they entered the crowded tavern, they moved apart as they made
their way past the patrons. In the corner of the tavern, Xena saw them and nodded solemnly, then rose from her table and
followed them from the inn.
The moon over Athens cast a slight glow over the city. The buildings around the tavern hung lanterns to light the way. In
nervous silence the three women stood in the darkness as the milling people moved around them.
“Zara, if you change you mind, we’ll be leaving at sunrise,” Xena’s voice was leveled.
“And if you two should change your minds, we cast off with the first waves,” she told the warrior princess.
Xena only nodded, then reached out and clasped Zara’s hand. After the initial contact, the Moroccan closed her eyes for a
moment and felt the transitory link that would remain with them for the rest of their lives. With a smile, the dusky woman
pulled away and looked at Xena. She noticed the warrior’s eyes flutter open, knowing that the warrior princess felt the same
spark of energy between them. The captain sighed then nodded at Xena before turning to look down at Gabrielle.
“Xena, please do not ever do anything foolish anymore,” she warned the warrior while keeping her gaze on Gabrielle. “This
woman here, she deserves to have her soulmate with her for the rest of her days.”
The warrior princess smiled as she looked down at her lover. She gulped at the impact of Zara’s words, then nodded
understanding. “I know, Zara. It’s been a hard lesson to learn, but I think I’ve finally got it.”
"I hope so, my friend," was all that the captain said as she took a step back and nodded. Bowing slightly to both women, she
touched her thumb and forefinger to her chest, lips and then forehead in the traditional salutation of her people before turning
and leaving them in the shadows of the tavern. Her cape swept out, billowing around her body.
Zara heard the crunching of the rocks under her boots. As the cool breeze of the sea brushed past her, she pulled the hood
of her cape over her head. All around her the signs of life filled the streets. At one point, she felt the urge to turn around and
wave to the healer and warrior. But she fought this urge, afraid that if she did, she would go to them and beg to be allowed to
travel with them. So instead, she made her way through the busy streets of Athens toward the port district.
“Alone,” she thought to herself. The seafarer had spent the better part of her days alone, yet she was still unaccustomed to
the feelings. The pain and loneliness returned to bore a hole in her heart that could not be filled. The Moroccan had been too
young to clearly remember what it felt like to be with Alaya, her soulmate. But she remembered clearly how Xena felt to be
in Gabrielle’s arms, and it was something that Zara began to long for, but she knew that it was not meant for her.
At this thought, she bowed her head in thought as her feet carried her back to her ship. Over and over, she remembered the
images of her mother and Inaam, yet Alaya was nowhere to be seen. No, Zara had come to the realization that Alaya was an
illusive image that was never meant for her. For one reason or another, she would never feel the love of a soulmate.
When she turned into a dark alley, she sighed deeply as she tried to keep the melancholy thoughts at bay. If she had been
paying attention, she would have heard the slight sounds in the darkness. The Moroccan captain would have been alert to
any troubles that laid in her path. But she was taken by surprise when a figure darted out from the darkness and stopped her
in her path.
By the light of the moon that filtered into the alley, she noticed the smaller figure as the hand reached out to touch her. Taken
back, the seafarer grew alert as she stood frozen in front of the figure. When the short intruder pulled away her touch and
removed the hood that concealed her features, the youthful face of a young Gypsy woman greeted Zara. At this open
disclosure, the Moroccan reached up, her cape and sleeve of her shirt fell back to reveal the markings on the back of her
hand before she pushed the hood of her cape down.
The young woman took one look at her. Her mouth hung open as she quickly spoke a language the Moroccan did not
understand. Frozen in time, they stared at one another, their eyes locked on each other as if held mesmerized by an unseen
force. And then it was gone. Remembering something, the woman fell to her knees, her head bent as she raised her hands to
Zara, the palms pressed together in subservience.
“Please, I beg of you,” the young voice spoke quickly in Arabic.
“Do not bow down to me, girl,” Zara felt her impatience reign as she glanced around the alley. When she was certain there
was no danger, she turned to the girl and helped her to her feet.
“You are a captain, yes?” the young Gypsy asked. By the slight glow from the moon, Zara noticed her youthful appearance.
Her exotic features, no longer hidden by the cape, peered back at her with dark eyes. Rather than answering her, the captain
only tilted her head, waiting to hear what the child had to say.
“Please… you are the first Captain to walk through this alley, please, I beg of you… I-I… we need passage,” the girl reached
out to take Zara’s arm, then pulled away quickly.
After a moment, the Gypsy turned to the shadows and beckoned for someone to join them. As the figure moved from the
darkness, the tall Moroccan looked at the aged Gypsy woman. Her wrinkled face surrounded dark, penetrating eyes. When
a movement was seen in the folds of the old woman’s garments, Zara looked down and saw a tiny head poking free from the
old woman’s shawl.
“Please, kind Captain, I beg of you… we seek passage for my grandmother, sister and myself,” the girl’s pleading eyes held
Zara’s captive as the child ran and hugged the young woman’s side. “P-Please… we seek safe passage,” the young woman’
s eyes begged. As an afterthought, the young Gypsy woman reached into her cape, “We have money, we can pay!”
When the girl held out a purse that jingled with coins, Zara’s mind began to churn. Through the diffused light, she noticed the
thick cape around the woman’s shoulders. The little girl clinging to her had hair that was disheveled, and the old woman,
although bent with age, seemed filled with life. In a matter of moments, the ship captain assessed their situation and reasoned
that these people, for whatever reason, were seeking safe passage from something that hunted them.
