In silence, Zara reached out cautiously and took the purse from the young woman. Without counting the coins, she gave a
wordless nod, then brushed past them. With long strides she made her way toward the transport boat that would take them
to her ship. Behind her, she heard their soft mutterings as they spoke to each in their mother tongue while following closely.
Zara remained silent as the small boat carried them to her ship. The Moroccan noticed the way that the Greek oarsman cast
a distasteful glance at the Gypsies. Ignoring his petty bigotry, the imposing woman remained silent, her glare warning him that
she would not tolerate any misconduct from him. Seeing her silent warning, he lowered his eyes as he continued to row them
out to the bay where her ship had laid anchor.
As the waves crashed against the small boat, she noticed the way the Gypsies huddled close together, their eyes scanning the
shores as if seeking a ghost. When they reached her ship, she heard Abu call down to them, his voice welcoming her as the
torches on her ship sent his shadow looming over the waters. With a wave at her first mate, she nodded to the oarsman, her
silent command only brought a nod of acknowledgment, and then she turned to the passengers in the boat. Comfortable in
her presence, the little gypsy girl scampered in the rocking boat until Zara took her and lifted her up to Abu. Once the child
was safely on deck, she motioned for the young woman to come near.
“But my grandmother, how will she…?” the Gypsy woman began to protest.
“Abu, we have a grandmother here, please get me the harness,” she called even as the burly man disappeared from view.
“You grandmother will be taken up shortly, now if you please,” she held her hand out for the young woman.
With a cautious glance, the girl looked back at the old woman, then reached out and took Zara’s hand. As a wave crashed
into the small boat, the girl lost her footing and landed in the Moroccan’s arms. At her closeness, the captain smelled a
familiar scent but as quickly as she noticed it, it was gone.
“I will lift you and my first mate will pull you up the rest of the way,” the Moroccan explained as she supported the lithe body,
then turned and looked up at Abu who was looking down at her. With a nod, she moved behind the Gypsy woman and lifted
her above her head and felt Abu taking her hand to pull her the rest of the way. Once the young woman was on deck, Abu
looked down at her.
“Captain, I can bring…”
“It is all right, my friend,” she reached up and took the items that he passed down to her.
As the boat rocked under her feet, she removed her cape and tossed it up to Abu, then handed him her sword before
fastening the harness to her body. When it was secure, she reached out for the old woman. As the frail Gypsy climbed on
unsteady legs, Zara smiled, trying to give reassurance to the aged matriarch as she helped her into the cloth seat before
fastening it to her back.
“Do not worry, all will be well, grandmother,” she said as she began to carry the weight of the woman on her back. With
steady feet, the Moroccan bounded up the rope ladder in easy, steady strides. Behind her, the occasional grunts and inhaled
breaths came from the old woman until they were on the deck, and Abu was unfastening the harness. As soon as she was
free, the aged Gypsy hugged the young woman she was traveling with, then watched as Zara and Abu spoke softly.
“More unscheduled passengers, Captain?” the humor laced his voice.
“It would appear so, Abu,” she turned away from the Gypsy travelers. “Are you going to shore again?”
“If you grant permission, Captain.” A slight blush crossed his cheeks, indicating that he was about to partake of some of
Athens’ finest women.
“Of course, Abu but please, if it is not too much trouble, make certain that Gabrielle and Xena receive this,” a tired sigh
escaped her control as she tossed the purse of coins to the burly man, then retrieved her cape and weapon from him.
“Of course, Captain. As soon as I see to our guests, I will deliver this to Gabrielle and her mate,” his promise followed her as
she made her way to her cabin.
Zara did not answer her friend, knowing that he would understand. When she entered her cabin, she lighted a single candle
and glanced around. Out of habit, she stowed her weapon away, and hung her cape in the wooden closet. For the first time,
she heard the slight echo in her quarters as she walked to the center of the room. When she glanced down at the small,
empty bed, she stood over it, wondering what Nadrah was doing at this moment. Gulping down her sadness, she lightly
touched the pillow that was once the little girl’s, then moved to her bed. With a tired sigh, she set the candle on the nightstand
as she lowered her head in thought.
In the shadows, she noticed a garment lying on the floor. She reached down and pulled it into the light and examined the
piece of cloth. Zara had an urge to take it to Abu so that he could return to Gabrielle the top that she had forgotten to pack.
But as she thought about it, the Moroccan captain remained frozen in place.
Zara lifted the shirt to her face and she closed her eyes inhaling the Greek woman’s scent. In that instant, she saw the blonde
woman’s face clearly. She remembered the sound of Gabrielle’s laughter and her voice as she told a tale. As the sadness of
their parting settled in her soul, the captain laid on her side as she held the cloth close, then, as an afterthought, she placed the
shirt on her pillow and closed her eyes. As her tears slowly fell, she felt herself drifting into a peaceful dream as the fragrance
of the blonde floated around her.
~~~~~~
Xena was beginning to feel as if things were getting back to normal. Now that she was back in Greece, she donned the
familiar leather armor. With the unexpected funds from Zara, they were able to get both Argo and her gear from the stables.
Once one of their bags was secured behind Argo's saddle, the warrior princess brushed the honey colored mare as she spoke
softly to the horse.
When Gabrielle left the tavern, she was dressed in the familiar red bra and skirt that she had worn when they first started this
trip. With a bag in one hand, the storyteller made her way to the horse as a smile crossed her lips. As she looked at Argo, she
lightly patted the horse's rear, then looked at Xena.
"So, it looks like we're ready to go," Gabrielle smiled.
"Ummm, Gabrielle, I've been meaning to ask you, I think its time that I wear my chakram again," Xena moved in front of her
soulmate.
"What? Your chakram?" the Amazon smiled wide, then wagged her finger. "No, Xena, where do you get that 'your chakram'
stuff? This is my chakram," she patted the round disc that was hooked to her waist.
"Wha…?" Xena was amazed at her lover's words. "B-But… Gabrielle, it was always mine."
"Yeah, well, that was before deciding to not let me bring you back at the Fountain of Strength on Mount Fuji." Gabrielle
sighed as she shook her head, then looked at Xena, a serious expression on her face. "But, tell ya what, warrior princess, I'll
let you carry my sword," the smaller woman knelt down and rummaged through her pack, removing the Greek sword that
once belonged to Xena, then tossed it to her, scabbard and all.
"You're letting me wear your sword? Gabrielle, this was mine, remember?" Xena looked at her soulmate with disbelief.
"Yeah, well, was is the operative word. Warrior Princess, it was your sword, but when you wouldn't let me bring you
back…" Gabrielle frowned as she shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say, Xena. It became mine by right of inheritance. But
just to show you that I don't want you left defenseless, I'll let you carry it for me," the storyteller nodded solemnly, a smile
tugging at her lips as she patted Xena's shoulder, then turned to Argo, readjusted the stirrups and began to mount her.
"Hey!" Xena looked up at her, shocked. "Argo's…"
"…mine, Xena. Remember? Once you died and wouldn't let me bring you back, all of your property became mine. But tell
you what, you can carry our bag, ok," Gabrielle nodded.
