Xena was not doing well. In the morning she had made her decision to leave alone, and it had been a difficult one. But she knew it was for the best. She had to get home as soon as possible; she had to know if there was anyone alive. She had not wanted to leave Gabrielle behind. At the time it had felt like a good idea, now she wasn't that sure at all. She tried to convince herself that it was best for Gabrielle to be with her family and other people she knew for a while, without the need to be ceaselessly alarmed. She had seen how well the two sisters got along with each other, and the happiness the bard had felt every time she had spotted some familiar face or place. This would be a hard trip and Xena couldn't stand it if anything happened to her best friend. Besides, she would return as soon as she could.

On the other hand, she was happy to be out of that town. Ever since they arrived there she had felt like an outsider, and Gabrielle had seemed to be so in charge. It had been an unusual experience to Xena, and she was unsure if she had liked it or not. And that, if anything, made her feel uncomfortable; being unsure of something.

But she missed her already, it was useless trying to deny it. Moreover, the way she had left made her feel even worse, but she knew she had had no options. If she had told Gabrielle, or even given her the smallest hint, the bard would have insisted on coming along. Besides, she HAD given Mr. Butterbur a note where she explained it all. Still, for a moment she was so close to turning back, but then she hardened her heart and spurred Argo for greater speed.

Some hundred yards behind, her faithful friend and companion squeezed herself through a narrow opening in a hedge beside the road. For one moment she saw the warrior's back vanishing where the road turned. A desperate cry called Xena's name, but it was too late for her hear it.

Days passed, giving little relief for Xena's guilty conscience. In the evening of the third day after her departure she was just about to call it a day and make a camp, when a fast trotting horse passed her. Its hooves hit the ground so lightly that she nearly missed it completely. She had left the road only seconds before, therefore the rider couldn't see her. The horse was silver in color, and its rider, an old man, wore a grey robe, and he rode like a madman. Someone behind him was clinging to him, arms around his waist. A little before Xena lost sight of them they slowed down and turned north to the wilderness, beginning to climb uphill to Mount Weathertop.

Xena wondered about their hurry and turned back to her own businesses when sounds of more horses approaching reached her ears. Something made her conceal herself better in the underbrush, and it was a wise decision; soon several raven-black steeds passed her hideout in full gallop. All of them followed the first rider up the side of the mountain. The Black Riders, all nine, she thought, fighting the fear left behind by the Riders. "That old man is in deep trouble. I must help." She crossed the road and started to climb the mountain side as well.

Up on the mountain the battle was emerging. On the very top there lay the ruins of an ancient castle which once had dominated the surrounding lands. Now only large stones here and there remained of it. At the spot where a great watchtower had once stood the stones formed an almost perfect circle, and in the middle of it stood the old man, holding his long staff in both hands.

He waited and listened.

Near him a very nervous young woman was searching for wood and anything worth burning, and placing her findings into a pile behind him. She didn't know why she was doing that, only that the man had told her to do so. They both felt the evil of the Black Riders gathering all around them; unseen, but already so clearly present.

When clouds covered the moon and took the last gleam of light away, the old man sprang into action. He spoke some words of an unknown language, and they reverberated like the deep tones of thunder, and he struck his staff into the pile of wood. Instantly the pile was lit on dazzling green fire, in the light of which they could see several dark shadows crawling over and between the stones. The woman had chosen one rock near the fire, and she tried to conceal herself under its shade.

One of the Riders let out a shriek and leaped to attack, but he was caught mid-air by a red and green spear of light and fire emerging from the end of the old man's staff. The Rider was thrown away over the stone ring, but though he was hurt, he was far from slain. "Begone, you creatures of the dark! You cannot win," shouted the man. Another spear of fire lanced out from his staff, and one more enemy was dropped from the stone he had stood on.

But that didn't stop them. Next there came a group of three, two of whom the man dropped with his staff, but the third came too close, and he had to dodge to avoid being hit with a black sword. Now the Rider had an open line to advance to the woman; and that was exactly what he did. It was his misfortune to underestimate the power possessed by the old man, who waved his hand, and the fire in the midst threw a burst of flames at the attacker, forcing him to retreat.

In spite of all his effort and skill, the situation was getting desperate for the man and the woman. The latter had buried herself deep under her cape, trying to escape the fear. The former might have been able to protect himself, but without any help from his companion he was gradually being overpowered.

Suddenly, there was a piercing yell, and a new factor joined to the battle, vaulting over the ring of the Riders. It was Xena, carrying a branch of a juniper. "Mind if I join the fun?" she asked rhetorically as she took the branch through the pyre. The branch blazed even before it touched the flames, and burned green at first, but changed later to natural red and yellow. She turned around just in time to thrust the burning branch at the lap of one Rider. The fire caught him instantly and didn't diminish for a long time. Xena let out a laugh of enjoyment, turning her attention at another target. She flipped closer, eluded a sword blow, took a flask from her belt and threw its content onto the attacker. She flipped back to the pyre and grabbed a burning log of wood, tossing it at the same Rider; she missed by an inch but the fire caught anyway. Another Rider left the battle in the form of a torch; the others started to withdraw, too.

Xena turned to the man and was about to greet him when the woman near the stone peeked from under her cape, and jumped into action. "NO!" she yelled, bashing at still one more attacker who had somehow sneaked behind Xena, and was about to strike her with his sword. In the very last moment the woman managed to throw herself at him and deflect his weapon away from Xena using a staff. The Rider fled, but the woman fell down unconscious.

"What on earth? Gabrielle?!" yelled Xena shocked, kneeling over her saviour, and shaking her. "Gabrielle, can you hear me?"

"It's so cold," said Gabrielle faintly, shivering.

The old man came to her, and laid his hand on her chest. "How fortunate," he said as a relieved expression crossed his face. "She has touched a Ringwraith; that is why she feels cold inside, but her soul is intact. Hold her tight, and she will be back on her feet shortly." He turned his full attention to the young woman, locking his eyes to hers, and said, "That was very stupid, girl. Very brave, yes, but also very stupid." That caused a little smile to appear on Gabrielle's face.

The man stood up and looked around. "Our enemies have fled but they are not far away. They may come back, and if they do, they will be better prepared. I thank you, woman, for your help. Who are you who knows fire better than any man I have met?"

"My name is Xena."

"Why, of course it is," laughed the man, "I must be a little slow-minded today. You are everything I have heard of, and more. I've always known our paths would eventually cross. I am Gandalf, but I suppose you knew it already."

"Yes, I did," answered Xena, still sitting on the ground, and holding Gabrielle on her lap trying to warm her up. "I realized that when I first saw your fire."

"Talking of fire," said Gandalf curiously, "May I ask, what did you do to get your fire burn so brightly? Mine is something you would call magical, but on yours I sensed no spell."

Gabrielle coughed, and gathering her strength she raised her hand to signal that she wanted to answer. "Lamp oil. It's always either lamp oil or spirit, and if it had been spirit, Xena would have spat it from her mouth instead of bottle. Yes, I saw, I didn't sneak under my cape all the time." A faint smirk indicated that she was getting stronger. "That branch of a tree was also sprinkled with oil. Am I right or what?"

"You know me so well," said Xena smiling. Then, speaking to Gandalf, "But now we must decide what we're going do with those horsemen. Why did they attack you, anyway?"

"Well, how much do you know?" answered the Wizard, squinting his eyes cunningly. He was trying to avoid revealing too much since he didn't trust Xena completely.

"All right, I'll tell you. Those Riders, Ringwraiths, as you called them, are servants of the Enemy. They are here to collect some great weapon which is in possession of a Hobbit named Baggins. He and his party have now joined together with Strider who is obviously their guide to where ever they're heading; my guess is Rivendell. And you, Wizard, knew Bilbo Baggins, therefore there is reason to believe that you have something to do with our Mr. Baggins too. The Riders probably think that you know where he is, and that they could somehow persuade you to tell them about the weapon or Mr. Baggins's whereabouts. At minimum, they hoped to take you out of the way. How does that sound?"

Gandalf laughed shortly, leaning to his staff. "I see you are aware of nearly everything there is to know so far, whether you're well informed or merely guessing. Yes, they are after poor Mr. Baggins who would like nothing more than to return safely to his hole in Shire. I'm quite sure that if he confronts those creatures of evil without my assistance, he and his company will perish. For now I see no other choice but staying here, waiting for him to come, if he has not passed yet. I know that unless Strider has had a new idea, he will guide him near this place. If we join them, we will have a good chance to get us all to Rivendell virtually unharmed."

Wrinkling her eyebrows, Xena gave his plan a thought. It was a good plan, with only one flaw. The three of them had managed quite well against the Nine, with Strider their chances would double, but - and it was a big but - what if Strider chooses another way? After a moment, she spoke. "I have a better idea. I suggest we split up and leave." She saw Gandalf's dubious expression, and explained. "The Black Riders must think that you know where Mr. Baggins is. If you ride north, for example, they would probably follow you, reckoning you are to meet him someplace else. If I ride west by the road with Gabrielle, we might get them to separate, and maybe Strider can go freely. If the plan doesn't work, the worst that can happen is that the Riders turn back and find Strider's party here. So, if they turn, you must turn back, too. The situation wouldn't have changed for better or worse from what it currently is."

Gandalf stroked his beard, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Yes, that might work. At minimum there would be fewer opponents to face Strider. But this plan also has a risk; you two are in severe jeopardy. They can attack and overcome you. Believe me when I say, that death in their hands is the worst kind of death there can be. And they who die, they are the lucky ones."

"I doubt they'll attack us," answered Xena. "I believe they're not interested in us in person, though they may think that we know about Baggins. Therefore they will only follow and observe us at a distance. It is risky, yes, but if this Baggins is so important, shouldn't we take the chance for his safety? Besides, someone should secure the way from here to Rivendell. Who knows what other perils there are waiting for him."

Finally the plan got Gandalf's acceptance, and since Gabrielle was feeling better, they left the ruins and started to climb down. The Wizard walked in the front, keeping light in the head of his staff, wary for another attack. A few steps after him, Xena followed with Gabrielle. They came down to a plain, and Gandalf whistled.

In no time, his steed, Shadowfax, trotted to him, and Argo followed right beside the swift-footed stallion. The two horses had scented each other on the slopes of the mountain, and they had immediately become drawn to one another, as they sensed a kindred spirit, and a match in intelligence among horses. For the whole time that the fight was on on top of the mountain, they had been discussing in Horse language, and a promise was made that they would meet again on the plains of Wold after the battles had been settled.

So it happened that Gandalf took Shadowfax, and four of the Riders followed him as he rode north-east, though he couldn't know their number until daylight the following day. Xena helped Gabrielle into the saddle, and they climbed carefully down to the road. There she took her place behind her friend on Argo's back, and they began riding against the dawn. After a few hours, when the sun was high, they slowed down and Xena allowed herself to doze for a moment, but they didn't stop. Gabrielle couldn't rest; she claimed that for some reason she was able to feel the presence of the Horsemen, and they made her apathetic. She knew they followed, and the warrior had no reason to doubt her.

So, Xena took a nap, letting Argo take care of steering. Once again she had an unpleasant dream, beginning with an image of Gabrielle arm wrestling with her sister. "Gabrielle, are you strong enough?" asked Lila.

Gabrielle saw the warrior entering, and explained, "I made a deal with Lila. If I win, I'm free to go with you. If she wins, I'll stay at home with her."

"Are you strong enough? To make it on your own?" Lila repeated her question, and she was winning, pressing Gabrielle's arm lower and lower. Afraid of losing her friend, Xena ran to them, and pushing Gabrielle away she took her place and grabbed Lila's hand in her own. "Xena, always there for her. Or are you? Are YOU strong enough?" asked Lila, and she seemed to grow in size. "Are you strong enough to protect her?"

"I'm strong enough," Xena retorted affirmatively, but she had to use all her strength.

"Are you strong enough?"

"I am." But she had met an irresistible force in Lila, who still grew, adding more force into the game.

"Are you strong enough?"

Xena didn't answer any more. She couldn't. She was arm wrestling with a Ringwraith, a Black Horseman, whose companions were observing the match behind him. "Do you still think that you're strong enough, Xena? If you can't protect yourself, how can you expect to be able to protect her?"

She started into reality to find out that Gabrielle had brought Argo to a halt on the top of a hill, and turned her sideways across the road. They both were looking down where they had come, and as Xena followed their gaze, she saw three of the Riders under the hill, about two hundred yards away.

"Xena, look. We can't lose them," said Gabrielle with voice that lacked all expressiveness natural to her. "Let's go to them and explain that we are no threat to them. They're saying they won't hurt us."

Xena watched the Riders only for a moment, then she took the reigns from Gabrielle's hands and spurred Argo into slow gallop, directly away from the enemy. Gabrielle didn't object, but the warrior felt the need to explain her actions anyway. "They're riding weary steeds. They won't catch us." The bard remained silent.

For two days and two nights they evaed the enemy, Gabrielle mounted on Argo and Xena behind her at first, but then walking beside, making it easier for the mare. During the days they had short rests, hoping that the dazzling sun would keep their enemies from attacking. When the dusk came, rest was no longer allowed.

The most disturbing thing for Xena was Gabrielle's condition. Whenever she tried to start a conversation, the usually light and cheery bard only uttered a few vague words which were already fading when they left her lips. She seemed to fluctuate between numb awareness and a sleepless state of insensibility, neither of which gave her mind any rest. This was exactly what Xena had feared, exactly what she had tried to avoid by leaving Bree without her friend.

In the darkest hours of the second night they reached the Last Bridge. However, some fifty yards before it Argo just stopped. "Come on girl, a little more," urged Xena, pulling her reigns. But the mare shook her head, neighing a wild refusal.

"Let it be, Xena," said Gabrielle with an exhausted tone, "Don't you see she's too tired to move a step further. What difference does it make if they catch us now or not until tomorrow. We're too worn out to fight anyway."

Xena was forced to agree. "You're right, I've pushed us all too hard. Right now a single mercenary could take us out. We'll camp here and go on in the morning. If they come, they do."

She helped her friend from the saddle, and the trio left the road, collapsing down just far enough to be out of sight. Xena volunteered to guard while unsaddling Argo, but Gabrielle disagreed, as forcefully as her condition allowed. "You need the sleep as much as the rest of us, since right now you are our only hope of survival. And if you're not in shape when we confront the enemy, then the hope is vain. I'm unable to sleep anyway, and I'll know if the Riders come close. I'll keep guard." It was what Xena had planned, but she had wanted Gabrielle to volunteer herself. As soon as she rested her back against a stump and closed her eyes, she fell asleep.

"Good morning," said Gabrielle as she scratched her ear, searching for a bug. "What's for breakfast?"

"What morning? It's afternoon already! We've overslept half of the day." Xena took a better look at her friend, removing a few locks of hair covering her eyes. "How do you feel? You look much better than yesterday."

"You're right! I feel excellent, though I could still use some more sleep. And my behind is aching. But I can't sense the Riders any more. Now where do we have that food?!" Gabrielle found a saddlebag and rummaged through the contents. She took a chunk of salted meat and started to chew it intensively. Xena joined her, thinking it was too risky to build a fire anyway.

"Are you sure the Black Riders aren't near?"

"Positive. What do you think we should do about it?"

Xena grunted and answered, "There's nothing we can do at the moment. We have no idea where they might be. I reckon that the only possibility is to keep going according to the plan; and that's eastwards. Gandalf would expect that from us."

"It sounds so logical now that you've said it. Hey! What's this?" Gabrielle held a jar that she had found from a sack in the very bottom of the saddle bag. "You scoundrel! You planned to keep this all for yourself, didn't you?"

"I've never seen it before! Gimme that...," Xena said, reaching out for the jar, but the other woman drew away with two fingers stuck deep in the golden stuff. When Xena finally caught her, the blonde was unable to defend her property, as she had closed her eyes in pleasure caused by the sweet taste spreading in her mouth. Xena took the little clay jar from her hands, and smelled its contents. "Honey," she acknowledged, and greedily followed Gabrielle's example. When Gabrielle tried to grab the jar back, Xena raised her arm straight up, making it impossible for the shorter woman to reach. "Ah ah aah, we're going to save the rest for the future. Are you sure you have nothing to do with this surprise?"

"Of course I'm sure," said the bard defeated. "Is this the sack Barliman gave you? Hmm, I bet it was all his idea."

"A farewell present for you? That makes sense," said Xena and paused, turning serious. She closed the lid upon the jar and put it back into the sack. "Listen, I'm sorry I left the way I did. You must believe me, I wasn't going to abandon you."

Gabrielle laughed, and came to the kneeling warrior, putting her arms around her neck from behind. "You've become so predictable, Xena. Did you really think that you could escape me, and that I wouldn't find you? I expected your trick, although I have to admit you were a little early. And I know exactly why you did what you did, so you don't need to explain anything. I forgive you. Now, I could have let you wallow in misery, begging for my forgiveness, but I didn't, so I consider you owe me one."

"I owe you because of something you chose not to do? That's new," said Xena with a relieved smile, not bothering to wonder about her friend's precise intuition. "Come on, we've lost enough time already. Let's pack up and get going. We won't get far today, but it'll be better than nothing."

They crossed the Last Bridge warily, prepared for anything. Both women were walking since Gabrielle refused to ride, claiming she had enough of sitting on horses during the last few days, first on Shadowfax and then on Argo. No more did Xena want to take the trip alone, even if it meant that she'd arrive home later. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her good old, talkative friend.

And Gabrielle had a lot to talk about. She had run after Xena, and spent the first night in the Forgotten Inn. The next day she had walked and walked, until she had been overtaken by a white horse ridden by an old man with a pointy hat and a long beard. She had asked him to stop but he had hurried ahead. Then, for a reason she still couldn't understand, she had yelled, "Baggins!" and he had immediately turned around and come to her. She had been stunned as he had introduced himself as Gandalf the Grey, and allowed her to sit behind him, ordering her to tell everything she knew. They had ridden like the wind, yet it had been a steady journey. There was no other horse like Shadowfax.

Then suddenly, Gabrielle's story was interrupted by two men appearing in front of them, armed to teeth. "Well, well, what have we here?" said one of them, his sword lying carelessly on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be travelling alone, it can be dangerous."

"We can take care of ourselves," said Gabrielle, raising her staff into battle stance.

"Move on boys, or you'll learn a lesson you won't want to take," said Xena calmly. She arched an eyebrow, and grinned.

"Oh yeah! Who's going to teach? You?"

"No, she is."

"Yeah, that's right," stated Gabrielle defiantly before she realized what had been suggested. "Umm, I am? Are you sure, you don't want to?" she whispered to Xena, stealing nervous glances at her.

The men laughed, and the first one spoke again, "All right, little lady, come and teach us."

His mocking tone roused the young woman. "I am NOT a little lady," Gabrielle yelled angrily as she started to advance. Soon she swept the smile away from their faces, as she hit the first man nearly unconscious, and disarmed the other with two well-timed strikes. She pushed on, and missed the third hit, which gave the man still standing time to collect his sword. This time he was much more careful, and they started circling around. He attacked first but she parried him easily, arranging room for retaliation at the same time. A kick in the stomach took his breath, making him double over, and a turn-around strike at the back of his head took his consciousness.

Meanwhile, the first man was getting to his feet again, but the bard was quicker. She swept his legs and pointed the staff at his throat. "Now, be still and maybe this little lady won't put you on detention," she said mockingly nice, and then shouted, "Your turn, Xena." She threw a quick look around, but the warrior was not there. "Xena!" she yelled louder, and this time there was an answer in the form of a noisy 'clang', followed by sounds of something heavy falling several feet down to the ground through limbs of a tree.

"I'm all right," yelled a voice from the forest, and in a while Xena came back to the road, dragging two bodies behind her. "Things here seem to be cooled off pleasantly."

"They only needed some discipline," said Gabrielle, "I see you have put two more bad boys on detention."

"One of them permanently, I'm afraid. He broke his neck on the way down." She put them next to the man whom Gabrielle had immobilized. "These fellows were waiting in the forest with bows, in case things on the road got nasty. As they did. Good, you have someone awake. Saves time when we don't need to wait for them to wake up for questioning," she said, and knelt beside the fourth man who was now considerably afraid of his well-being.

"Do we really have time for this?" asked the bard. "They're nothing but robbers. Why don't we just leave?"

"There's something more in them. See, those two are too neatly dressed, they've been in the wilderness for no more than three or four days, and their clothes are more suitable for living in a town. Besides, I'm quite sure I saw that dead guy in the Prancing Pony in the other night. That somewhat orcish look is easy to remember."

"Oh. Well then. Can I be the bad guard again?"

Xena rolled her eyes. "Let's just do this as usual," she said, and put a pinch on the man's throat. "I've cut the flow of blood to your brain. You'll be dead in thirty seconds if you don't co-operate. So, what are you doing here?"

"Stri-, Strider -, we were - supposed - to kill - Strider and -," he stuttered.

"Go on, I know he was travelling with Hobbits, so tell me what I already know."

"Kill, - kill Strider and - capture the - Hobbits, dead - or alive."

"If your job was to capture the Hobbits, why did you attack us?" Xena questioned, but the man was getting too weak and she had to release the pinch. "Answer me. I can do it again if you don't."

The man coughed a while and goggled at her angrily. "We thought we might as well try acting like robbers since it was our cover story."

"And who ordered you to do this?" He didn't answer until Xena put her fingers on a threatening position in front of him.

"Ferny," he said and swallowed.

"Bill Ferny? Again!" cried Gabrielle, stepping closer. "So much for you attacking us by accident."

"That's what I was thinking," said Xena, "Now you can tell us the whole truth, what exactly did Bill tell you to do?"

The man broke and told them all he knew. There were three groups in the search for the Hobbits; one had left north from Bree, the other had gone south by Greenway and the third, themselves, had ridden east. Their primary mission really was to capture the Hobbits, and kill Strider if he resisted, but Bill had also had another order concerning two women. "Scare the little one, but don't hurt her badly. With the other you can do whatever you want," he had said.

----

"See, I can be a bad guard. He told everything in the second I made an advance at him," said Gabrielle when they were on the road again. Xena had taken all the weapons the attackers possessed, intending to dump them in the first deep pit they'd pass. An exception was to be made with one bow and a quiver of arrows (Xena, if anyone, knew a good quality weapon when she saw one), and a frying pan confiscated by Gabrielle.

"Do you know what bothers me?" asked Xena, like she hadn't heard Gabrielle's remark. "This Ferny-guy. I thought he was one of those men who talk a lot and get little done, but he seems to have connections. It makes him more dangerous than he looks."

"Aren't you overreacting now? We beat his minions. He can't cause us any more trouble now on."

"It's not us I'm worried about. Aren't you afraid that he'll direct his revenge to your sister, now that you are out of his reach?"

To Xena's surprise Gabrielle burst into laugh. "Lila is quite capable of taking care of herself. Especially when it comes to Bill." She was briefly interrupted by chuckling. "I had a talk with her that one night, you remember that? Well, I made some conclusions of my own from the stories she told me. She has become quite a character in Bree. People really respect her and her husband. And, did you notice what she's carrying under her skirt, attached to her thighs?"

Yes, Xena had noted a nearly unnoticeable bump on Lila's right thigh in the morning of her departure. Actually, it wasn't the bump that had drawn her attention, but the way the woman had moved around. "Daggers?"

"Throwing knives, actually. She has always been good at throwing things. Gosh! She can be a moving armory if she wants to; not that she ever wanted. I never knew you can hide knives in so many places under your clothes. Thigh-knives, leg-knives, boot dagger, arm rack, breast dagger..," Gabrielle counted, until she saw Xena's grim face. "Don't worry, Lila's more level-headed than me in her age. It takes quite a lot for her to lose self-control and start throwing daggers around. She didn't throw any at you when we arrived, even though she was quite mad, right?"

"She wasn't wearing them at the time," Xena retorted dryly, then shook her head to drop the unpleasant visions out of her mind. "So, what's so funny?"

"Oh, just an incident that should keep Bill away from Lila for the rest of her life. No, I won't tell you about it, you'll have to hear it from her. But I'll give you a hint; the story features a woman, a fool, and a pack of Rangers."

"Rangers, huh? Was Thorongil one of them?"

"Thorongil? Oh yes, Strider. I'm still getting used to the fact that the mysterious, scary man from my childhood is the same one who brought you back to the good side. I don't know whether he was involved or not. Ask Lila." She kept chuckling, and refused to tell Xena more.

They kept going east towards the Misty Mountains which stood gray and rugged before the horizon, the peaks still bathing in the sunlight, but the roots already in the shadows of the evening. That was the time for the women to call it a day and retire to well-deserved rest.

For the next four days they were allowed to travel without interruptions, having as many stops as they wanted. Of course, there weren't many since Xena hadn't forgotten the reason for their journey, and they were still in a hurry. Still she forbade making fires, driving Gabrielle into madness in attempts to make them relishing meals out of dry provisions without boiling water. At last they came to the Fords of Loudwater which lay right on the roots of the mountains, and still seeing no danger they crossed the river.

"These are lands of the Elven folk. Do you think we'll see any of them?" asked Gabrielle hopefully. She loved Elves and their fair appearances, their songs and beautiful voices. It was a pity that Xena so seldom took her anywhere near the dwelling places of these noble people.

"If we're lucky, we won't," the warrior retorted, ill at ease. If there had been any other way over the mountains, she would have taken it with joy, but right now she had no choice. She had nothing against the Elves themselves, but in the past they hadn't exactly been her best friends, and the Elves were not those who forget easily. She just wanted to avoid any awkward situations.

But Xena's wish was not to come true. At first the serpentine road ran up the steep, barren side of the mountains. Then suddenly, three miles after the river, it wound north and began to slope down into a beautiful, green valley where all kinds of plants flourished, and different animals fed on them. The air was filled with butterflies, bees and colourful birds.

The women entered the valley, breathless by its unexpected beauty and all the life it had. After walking awhile, they came to a crossing beside a clear-watered river. The main road went straight over by a strong, wooden bridge, but it also forked east. In the crossing there stood a sign whose language and letters were Elvish, and therefore unknown to Xena.

Why can't these people write in common language like everybody else? thought Xena bitterly, keeping her attitude at Elven habits to herself. "Can you make anything out of it?" she asked aloud, after a brief study of the sign.

"Let me see." Gabrielle came closer and squinted her eyes before the sign because the writing was old and worn. "I believe it says 'Imladris' in the left arrow, showing over the bridge. It must mean Rivendell in Sindar, one of the Elven languages. The right arrow, hmm. It translates to 'The High Pass'. Yes, so there goes the path over the mountains. But we can go to Rivendell for the night, can't we? Please."

"I don't think so," said Xena. "The sooner I'm out of this valley, the sooner I'll be over the mountains and at home. We're going right, by the river." She started walking with a determined pace, away from the bridge.

"But I want to see the Elves, and talk with them. I've never talked with an Elf before, and I've only seen them from a distance a few times."

"No! And wipe that look from your face, it won't work this time." Then, as much as she hated the idea, "You could go there by yourself." At least the Elves would keep Gabrielle out of trouble.

"Could I? You wouldn't mind?" said the bard enthusiastically. Then, back to ground, remembering her dream in Bree. "I'm afraid it's not an option."

"Why not? Rhosgobel is much closer to Rivendell than Bree. We wouldn't be separated for more than two weeks. If you like to meet Elves, this is your chance."

"It just isn't. No, I'm stuck with you," said the bard with depressed tone, then added more firmly, raising her gaze from the road, "And you're stuck with me."

Somehow it felt good. Xena knew she should have been more persistent, but she just couldn't, as she felt a warm happiness well up inside. But, as usual, she didn't let it show. "If so, then you should be prepared to pay the price. You better get your staff ready."

"What is it?" asked Gabrielle lowering her voice, and inconspicuosly detached her staff from a holder in Argo's saddle.

"Nothing, I hope. It's just one of those feelings."

"Uhh, I've learned to trust your feelings. I get creeps from your feelings."

As to emphasize her words, they heard a voice from the forest, "Halt there, strangers. Why have you entered our country?"

Xena did as told, and spoke with a clear voice, "We're only travellers passing by. We don't seek any trouble." Then, with a little lower pitch, "I hope you don't, either."

"Excuse me," said Gabrielle, interrupting the person in the forest and ignoring her warrior friend's startled gaze. "Aren't you Elves? I haven't seen an Elf for a long time, could you, please, come to the road? Come on, the Elves are famous for their politeness. It's not very polite to talk to people if they can't see who they're talking with."

Some murmur in the trees, then a rustle in the bushes, and soon, there he was; a beautiful Elf with an almost shiny appearance. He paced proudly in front of them, and bowed. "Glorfindel, at your service." He was somehow different from all of the Elves the young woman had seen before; more handsome, more shiny, more Elf. He was slender and tall, and when he spoke it sounded lovely like water rippling in the spring brook. "Now, would you introduce yourselves, please?"

"Gabrielle. From Bree. A bard," stammered Gabrielle sheepishly, dazed by his appearance, and not knowing what else to do she outstretched her hand for a handshake. The Elf took it, a little confused of her surprising straightness.

"You can let go now, bard Gabrielle," said Glorfindel after a lot of intensive shaking, amused by the young woman's innocent adoration and her up-to-ears smile. "Come here, my friends," he yelled to the woods, "If these are the enemy, then I'm the King of the Dwarves." Instantly, several laughing and joyful Elves stepped to the road, forming a curious circle around them.

"Oh, sorry. It's just that I've had a pretty unique week," said Gabrielle, dropping the last of her defenses. "I've visited my hometown after three years, I've ridden with Gandalf, a Wizard, and shaken hands with an Elf who's one of the Noldor, if I'm not mistaken. For this experience I'd gladly take another attack of Ringwraiths any time - OUCH!" Xena's warning kick at her leg came all too late, though later the warrior admitted it had been quite funny to see the expressions on Elf-faces. Compassion, as Gabrielle had mentioned her homecoming. Surprise, when she had mentioned Gandalf. And finally, terror, as she had mentioned the Ringwraiths, making the whole circle of Elves to take a step back. But, at the moment, Xena just wanted to choke her friend. Of course, with all the Elves around, it would have given a bad first impression.

Anyway, Xena's kick finally brought the bard back to earth, realizing that her mouth had been faster than her reason. She swallowed nervously and backed up beside the warrior, grabbing her arm. Glorfindel seemed to have lost a portion of his shine as he spoke, "Looks like you two have had quite an adventure. Maybe you should come with us to Rivendell, and tell all about it to Elrond, the Elf-King."

"Look, mister Elf," said Xena dryly. She had planned to go on the few hours until sunset, but now it seemed impossible. "We're a bit in a hurry. If you don't mind, we'll stay here for the night. Gabrielle can tell you the story by the campfire and you can tell it to your King later if you still think it interests him." Worse yet, she knew that if they had to visit Rivendell, it would waste at least two extra days.

"It surprises me that you don't want to see our beautiful city and enjoy its services," said the Elf, tilting his head and gazing sharply. "But if that's what you wish, so be it. Come, I know an excellent camp site just another mile further. My friends will make it ready for you, and then I'll listen to your story. By the way, I don't think I heard your name, warrior."

"I didn't say it," Xena answered, hesitating. Should she tell him her real name? Well, he's going to learn it later, anyway. "My name is Xena," she finally said, and nodded, keeping an eye on his expressions.

"Nice to meet you," he responded cordially, and if he recognized her name, he didn't let it show.

On the way to the Glorfindel's camp site, he and Gabrielle had an intensive discussion. Gabrielle bombarded him with questions about what it was like to be an Elf, and he answered the best he could. Then the bard astonished him with a part of an old Elven song about Beren and Luthien, reciting in clear and clean Sindar.

As Glorfindel had promised, the camp was prepared for them when they arrived. One of the Elves was sitting by the campfire, keeping an eye on a kettle of boiling soup. Another Elf brought a little sack of oats for Argo who gladly took the refreshing variation from plain grass meals.

After a quick dinner, Gabrielle gave Glorfindel a brief description of the happenings of the past few days, leaving out Xena's connection to Strider and the conflicts of her own in Bree. Every now and then she consulted with the warrior by imperceptible expressions, when she was unsure if Xena wanted her to skip something else. The Elf remained silent, turning graver and more worried as the story went on.

When she finished, he sprang to his feet immediately. "I must return to Rivendell at once. If you change your mind, you're still welcome there, too. I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I fear that we have lost too much time already. Farewell, friends." He threw a few words in Sindar to his two companions waiting nearby, and they all started jogging towards the town of Rivendell.

"What did he say?" asked Xena when they had gone.

"Literally," answered the bard thoughtfully, "'Frodo is in trouble. We must tell Elrond at once.' Who's Frodo?"

"Would you be surprised if he was our dear Mr. Baggins? Anyway, find a pot or something for that soup, and kill the campfire. I'll pack Argo. We're leaving as well."

"We WHAT?! Now?"

"Just one of my feelings again. It says that if we don't leave now, we won't be having another chance for a week. Just start packing up."

Obediently Gabrielle did what Xena told, and they broke the camp in haste. Going eastwards, climbing up the side of the mountain they once more spent the night walking, a full moon illuminating their way.

"You want a break? Who are you, and what have you done with Xena?" said Gabrielle, freezing in faked horror.

"Hah hah, very funny. What I mean is that you two should stay here while I go back to see if we're being followed. Okay?"

"That's the Xena I know." Gabrielle dropped to sit on a moss-covered boulder and rubbed her aching feet. "Yes, a break really is needed," she thought, and watched the warrior disappear down the hill. Then she turned to Argo, asking, "You're okay, girl?" The mare snorted and nodded. "Oh, you're just too stubborn to admit it. My feet may be sore, but to your hooves all this climbing on a hard surface must be a killer." She rested her back against the rock and looked at her surroundings.

Once again Xena had chosen a perfect spot for a break. It was a large, flat opening with stone walls around on all sides, hiding the travellers from curious eyes. On the side facing west the walls were less steep, and there a few suffering trees had stuck their roots into narrow cracks in the stone, offering a welcomed shelter from the hot sun in the summer. But now, summer was long past, and travellers were pleased to take every opportunity to enjoy the warming rays of that yellow sphere in the sky.

After an hour Gabrielle felt herself revived again. She also felt fed up with bathing in the sun and having arguments with Argo. So, she began a staff practice. She started with easy moves, just playing with her weapon, but then it became more serious. When Xena came back, she found her friend in full combat against a boulder the size of a man. For a minute she just enjoyed watching, making sure the bard couldn't see her.

A basic hit. 'Good balance.'

An over-head block. 'Don't forget your legs.'

Back-handed leg sweep. 'I've seen that before.'

'Ouch, that would have hurt.'

And 'that one she has learned from me.'

Then she had an idea and walked back the path until she came to a tree. It was a crooked and old pine, and she broke a branch to make a stick as close to a fighting staff as possible. It became shorter than Gabrielle's staff, and not nearly as straight, but it should do fine. Then she returned to watch the practice.

As Gabrielle turned her back at her, Xena slid out from her hideout and approached her friend silently, creeping like a cat. She was right behind the bard who suddenly swung around, and directed a powerful strike at her head. But the warrior ducked and used the confusion to grab the staff with ease.

"Very good," said Xena admiringly, "You really showed that rock who's the boss up here."

"Thanks," responded the bard, sweating and panting. "I imagined it was Bill. I guess it gave me some extra energy."

"Why don't we see what that extra energy of yours can do to an opponent who can move and strike back?"

"What, do I have a choice?"

"No," said Xena and swung the stick at her friend who blocked the hit without much trouble.

The warrior had decided to show her best. She flipped over stones; she used the cliffs to disappear behind one and to reappear behind another; she ran the walls up to vault back down and over her friend; she was everywhere. But Gabrielle had learned her lessons and she didn't go after Xena's tricks. Remaining in her position she did everything possible to block and evade the strikes. Xena's extra maneuvers gave her some time to take breath, but not much.

Then, a sudden change in tactics gave the bard an advantage. She blocked Xena's double-strike, anticipated the following back-flip, and changed to offensive, forcing the warrior to retreat into a corner. Finally, she had gotten her opponent trapped - or that's what she thought.

For a moment Xena really was in trouble, which only made her smile wider in the heat of excitement. She went for a basic block, but in the last moment she changed it to a dodge, and dived under Gabrielle's arm. Tumbling beside the bard, she kept the stick over her head to block the hits, and kicked. Gabrielle fell down to her back, and quickly found herself restrained by Xena sitting on her midriff and pinning her arms to the ground.

"Okay, you win," the bard panted. "Just tell me; what did I do wrong this time?"

"Not much," Xena responded simply, and rose, dragging her friend up with her. "Your charge was good, but you must learn to understand when your attack is brought to a standstill. You should have backed away a little. A brave effort, though."

"Yeah, but you weren't trying, not for real. You were just goofing around and making me crazy."

"Maybe, but you did your own fight, putting up a good defense, and you kept your head cool. I believe you earn some credit for that." While talking the warrior already shaded her eyes with her palm as she looked at the sun, checking the time. "We'd better get something to drink, and then move on. Ready?"

"Ready," came the answer, as Gabrielle took a sip from her waterskin and placed it back into her backpack. "Valar! How would I like a swim now."

They left behind the steepest hillside, and through a tunnel carved into stone they arrived to a plain where the slope was gentle, offering better chances to the plants to grow. Some dirt had actually managed to stay on the slope, and therefore the ground was green from grass, bushes and stunted trees. There they paused for a while to feed Argo and to collect some hay in store.

"What's that?" asked Gabrielle from Xena who had knelt down beside the road, looking at the ground thoughtfully.

"Hmh? Just a track. Footprints of some large animal. It's nothing, let's go."

And they went, heading towards a narrow passage in a precipitous wall, but before they could reach it, it was already getting on towards evening. Knowing the dangers walking in the dark on the mountains would bring, they decided to search for a place for the night. Luck or fate, they found a cave perfect for camping not far from the passage. It was deep, offering a good shelter for all of them, and cracks in stone formed a natural chimney, as there was a strong draft sending the smoke from the campfire to the outside.

"Gabrielle," called Xena, unsaddling Argo in the back of the cave. "Can you make it by yourself again for a while?"

"Of course I can. Why, where are you going?"

"I'll make a short check around and take another look for those footprints, as long as there's still light. There may be something funny about them after all." Xena took her sword and a bow with arrows, and reassuring herself that the chakram was still safely in her belt, she left the cave.

"Okay, but be careful," yelled Gabrielle after her. Staring vacantly at where the warrior had disappeared, she thought how lucky she was having such a good friend as Xena. With her she felt safe and protected, even when the warrior was away. She stood up and walked to the back of the cave where Argo was chewing hay. Secretly she dipped a pair of fingers in the jar of honey in the saddlebag, and went to the mare. She rubbed Argo's snout, and the horse snorted with satisfaction, licking the honey from her hand. It itched and made her giggle.

"All right, you've had your dinner, now it's our turn," she said, and took one of the saddlebags closer to the fire. There she unpacked a frying pan, some dried meat, and a waterskin.

Suddenly Argo snorted again, but this time she sounded nervous. "Who's there?" yelped Gabrielle, and jumped to her feet, taking her staff and looking uneasily at the entrance. First there was a roar; not a loud one, but it echoed in the cave, which made it sound even scarier. Then she saw it; an enormous, black male bear, the biggest she had ever seen. She froze, but only physically; her mind ran in circles. "All right, girl, it's a bear, think!" she commanded herself. "What can I do? Staff ain't heavy enough to hurt him. The frying pan! No, too short. Something sharp? Xena, now it would be a good time to show up. Please." She slid slowly backwards since the bear approached. "Come on, what did your father tell you about bears? That's it, play dead!"

She dropped down to her stomach and closed her eyes tightly, holding her breath. She heard the beast coming closer, and soon she felt his warm breath on her neck. A growl. With a single push with a paw he turned her over to her back. Then nothing. All was silent, yet Gabrielle was able to feel his presence near her. She felt his warmth. She could smell his odour. She was scared to death, but unable hold her breath longer, she had to let it go. Then, warily, she inhaled, sure about that it would draw the beast's attention. But it didn't. She started breathing as silently as she could. When he still made no sound, she dared to open her left eye slightly. And she saw him again.

He was very close, no more than a feet from her face. He was still huge, from her position he looked gigantic. And he stared straight into her eyes.

The bear growled, and her heart skipped a few beats. But still, he didn't move. Slowly she opened her both eyes fully open, and the two just looked at each other for a while. Another growl, or was it more like a whine? Maybe he wasn't hungry or angry at her. Carefully Gabrielle raised her head, just an inch, to see better. Again the bear whined, definately whined, and moved a little to show his other side, still looking warily at her. And there she saw an arrow sticking out of his right shoulder.

"You've been hurt," she dared to say. The bear answered with a snarl, like he had understood her purpose. Very slowly she raised herself into a sitting position. He took no action.

"Do you want me to take it out?" she asked. He snarled once more, turning the injured shoulder closer. "All right then, I'll do it," she said, a little less scared now. She reached out to touch the arrow, keeping an eye on the beast's reactions. She saw that the arrow was not completely through, though its head was visible. She examined it, and found it impossible to pull it out the way it had gone in. "I wish Xena was here, she is so much better with these things," she thought, but aloud she said, "All right, you wise and brave friend of mine. This is going to hurt. Please, don't eat me when I'm done." Her gaze wandered into the frying pan, like searching for a weapon, but a growl deep from the beast's chest brought her thoughts quickly back to the right path.

She inhaled deeply, taking a good grip of the arrow, and with one powerful move she pushed it through the shoulder. The beast quivered, howling in pain. Then she snapped off the arrow head and pulled the tail out. "Wait," she said, as the bear was about to get up to his feet, "It's still bleeding, I need to make a bandage." Did I say that, she wondered. To her surprise the bear understood and dropped down, letting her take care of the gash.

She took a piece of cloth from the saddlebag and shredded it into bands. Then she bound the bands firmly around the bleeding shoulder. She put the remains of the cloth back into the bag and noticed a jar in there. "Bears love honey, don't they." He watched her suspiciously as she took the jar and opened it. "You want some?" she asked, dipping one fingertip into the sweet stuff, and then bringing it into her mouth. Kneeling down she poured half of the honey onto a flat rock, approximately size of a small plate, and sat beside the wall a few feet behind. The bear sniffed curiously and came closer to the honey, and Gabrielle thought she saw a flicker of greedy desire in his eyes. Then he licked the stone clean. After that he threw himself onto his back, rolling around happily. She couldn't hold her laughter when he put his head on her lap like a big puppy. Well, a very big puppy. A giant puppy. With a very deep and wise pair of eyes.

Suddenly, something changed. The bear sprang to his feet and roared loudly and angrily. Something had just come into the cave, drawing his attention.

"Gabrielle, where are you? Are you all right?" she heard Xena's worried and frightened voice. She jumped up and saw the warrior at the cave opening, sword drawn and with a grim face.

The bear snarled and rose up to two feet as he started to approach the intruder. Gabrielle ran between the fighters to stop them. "No! Xena, lower your sword!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "This bear is friendly."

It was a most unusual match. An angry, enormous bear against a well-armed and experienced warrior, both ready to jump on each other's neck, and the only thing keeping them separated was a little, blond woman.

"Gabrielle, get out of the way. That is not an ordinary bear," said Xena between clenched teeth.

"Huh?" said Gabrielle, turning to face Xena.

"That is Grimbeorn. He's a bear-man."

At that moment, a weird, ripping sound came behind Gabrielle. She swung around one more time and saw no longer a bear, but a man; a large, black-haired, muscular man with a somewhat bear-like appearance.

"Yes," he spat, fire in his eyes, "I am Grimbeorn, son of Beorn. A bear-man, a skin-changer, and a shape-shifter, what ever you like. And you are Xena, Warrior Princess. I remember you. How could I forget."

"True, but I've changed, Grimbeorn. I'm not the same woman who once fought against you. There are a lot of things I regret, but Gabrielle here is a living proof of my conversion. And I won't let you hurt her." She moved closer to pull the bard protectively behind her.

"No! Stop it, Xena," yelled Gabrielle, grabbing Xena's sword hand. "I'm sure he's a good man, and since you are good too, you shouldn't fight with each other. Put your sword down." And, turning to Grimbeorn, "You too, drop it. Whatever there has been between the two of you, it's in the past."

The fighters looked at her, then at each other. Then, as in mutual decision, they shrugged. The fire in bear-man's eyes died as he crossed his arms over his chest, and Xena sheathed her sword, sighing, and shaking her head pessimistically.

For the next hour they sat around the campfire, Gabrielle in the middle doing most of the talking. Little by little she managed to drag pieces of information from Grimbeorn, repaying him with stories about their adventures and Xena's valor, as well as their current whereabouts. She found out what the man was doing up on the mountains in the first place. "Gandalf told me to keep the road open. To keep it open at any cost." That was what he had said. And that was his task; to ensure that people could travel via the High Pass safely.

"Listen, Beorn. Can I call you Beorn?" An approving nod from the bear-man. "Beorn, it just occurred to me. It would have saved me from a lot of palpitations, if you just had come to me as a man, and asked me to remove that arrow."

"If I had done that, I wouldn't be here talking with you now. During my change the arrow would have torn a lot larger gash, and I'd have bled to death. I'm sorry for what I put you through, but it was unavoidable."

The most important question was yet to be asked. "Who shot you?" said Xena, opening her mouth for the first time in an hour.

Beorn threw a look around, then reached his hand behind, and tossed the arrow over the fire in front of Xena. "You tell me."

"Orcs," came a dry answer. She didn't even examine it closer, recognizing the shape and style too well.

"Yes. The Orcs have opened a window in the rock not far from here, and installed there a powerful bow. With that they can keep any travellers from passing by. I have already lost three of my Beornings in attempts to take it out."

"Great!" said Gabrielle, "We'll help."

"Excuse me?" Xena's disbelief and confusion was so obvious, that the bard couldn't help smirking.

"It's perfect. You two, working together to solve a problem, fighting against a mutual enemy." A mischievous grin. "Getting to know one another." A storm of protesting statements by both fighters drove her into a defensive laugher. "Come on! The two of the most feared fighters in Middle Earth. Who could stand against such power? Xena, you're the one talking about logics, aren't you? We have to go past that window anyway, right? Isn't this logical enough?"

An expectant silence. Then a resigned sigh by Xena who had to admit that the younger woman was right. Then she spoke to the bear-man, "Okay, show me that window." And to Gabrielle, "Try not to cause any more trouble while I'm away."

"Trouble? Me? Here?" laughed the bard. "Hardly." She watched them leave the cave, Beorn in front, Xena following a few steps behind, carrying a strong but light, braided rope in addition to her usual weapons.

Xena paced after Grimbeorn via a narrowing path which still rose uphill and went into the passage they had seen earlier. On both sides the stone walls loomed high and threatening, darker than the dark sky above. "This is it, behind the corner," whispered the bear-man after a while, stopping behind a large rock in front of which there was an opening. He dropped to his stomach and crawled forward to take a look. The woman followed his example.

In the pale gloom of the fading sunset she saw that they stood at the base of a steep cliff, over a hundred feet high, above which the mountain rose perpendicularly. As she let her gaze wander forth and back, she noted it offered little place for foot- or hand-holds that would be useful for climbing. Here and there charred, black spots indicated the cracks where little plants had once grown. About halfway up the cliff there was the window; a quarried hole leading inside the mountain. Several feet wide it was, and its height was a third of the width. The Orcs had burned all life below it.

"How many Orcs are there?" asked Xena, withdrawing behind the corner.

"I don't know for sure," Grimbeorn answered. "A half dozen at least, probably more. They are armed with short bows, but none of my men has ever gotten close enough to take a better look. And they often use poisoned arrows."

"And that big bow?"

"Powerful. Accurate. Deadly. It can penetrate the best shields we have."

"Hmm."

In the darkness their eyes met and silence engulfed them. For a while they just stared, and then turned away like two children caught up doing something forbidden. "Listen, Beorn, I'm so sorry about the last time. I don't expect you to understand, or forgive, but truly, I am sorry," said Xena at last.

The bear-man glanced her curiously. "You really have changed, haven't you?" he asked softly.

"I, - I'm trying. Hard," Xena answered, turning over to her stomach and breaking the connection. Biting her lip to fight the feelings that she had believed forgotten, she crawled forward to have another peek behind the corner. He came after her.

"Do you think we could have again what we once had? Or what I thought we had?" he whispered cautiously into her ear.

But Xena dodged the question with a sigh, and said, "Let's get back to the cave. We're going to need a good plan. Or an army." Avoiding eye contact she stood up and started walking.

Grimbeorn caught up with her shortly, and they walked side by side towards the cave entrance. "She's quite a girl, that friend of yours," he said.

Xena glanced him, but his expression was covered by the darkness. "Yes, she is," she responded, and laughed shortly. "Not everyone would have the nerve to pull an arrow out of a grizzly bear, and then stitch the gash."

"Well, that too, but that's not what I meant," he said, when Xena suddenly stopped, seizing him by his arm.

"Something's wrong," she stated.

"Yes, I see it, too. There's no fire in the cave," the man replied, and transformed into his bear-form.

Xena drew her sword and peeked inside. "Gabrielle!" she shouted, but only an echo answered. "Gabrielle, if this is a joke, I'm not laughing."

But Grimbeorn roared in anger and rushed by her into the cave. Xena followed more warily, and quickly lost the bear in the darkness. She heard him rumbling in the back, then there was a sparkle in the dark, and soon Grimbeorn in his human form came walking to her, holding a lit torch in his hand.

"Orcs have been here," he said grimly, "I smelled them already from outside. Look, their footprints are everywhere."

Xena lit another torch and started to examine the prints, her chest constricted by concern. "There were at least seven of them. Strange, they didn't come from outside. Look! There's Gabrielle's staff, broken in three pieces. She put up a fight, but they've overcame her."

Memories of her brother's death in her arms came back to her, and she clenched her teeth. She didn't want to lose another person she deeply cared to the Orc scum. Not again. She followed the prints further until they seemed to disappear inside the wall. There was not the smallest crack in the stone, nor could she find any mechanism to open the supposed trapdoor in the wall.

Most of their belongings had been taken. Argo was gone too, hopefully she had run away; Xena couldn't tell, since Argo's prints were still to be seen on the floor here and there, but near the cave entrance the ground was stony and clean, too hard to leave a print on. Then there was another thing; blood. The amount of dried blood horrified her. She could only hope it was Orc blood, because if it was Gabrielle's, the young woman would be very dead by now.

Determinedly she walked out of the cave, with one decision in her mind. She would go and rescue Gabrielle, and if it already was out of her power, she would find the body and - No! Gabrielle was alive, she had to be!

"Xena?" said Grimbeorn, catching up with her steps. "Xena, what's up?" he repeated his question, and seized her by her shoulder as the woman showed no sign of acknowledgement.

"Stay out of my way," said Xena, swinging around and shrugging him off. Her sharp gaze startled him, forcing him to back up. Though head taller, he knew he wasn't a match for her in his human form.

"You have a plan?" he asked warily, as she turned and started walking again.

"Nope."

"So where are you going? Hold on, you don't think of just using the window to enter the caverns, do you?"

"Watch me."

"Xena, stop. This is madness." He grabbed her arm again. The answer came faster and rougher than a moment before.

"I told you to stay out of my way. Which part of it did you not understand?" said the warrior woman, pressing him against the stone wall.

Using most of his superhuman strength he managed to push her away. "Go then! See if I care! Back to your old ways, aren't you?" They glared at each other in the dark, eyes sparkling in wrath. Just like in the old days. Oh yes, they both remembered it better than well. A bear-like growl escaped Grimbeorn's lips, and his posture began to bend.

Finally, Xena was the one swallowing her anger. She vanished into the dark ravine and headed to the Orc window. After a while she paused to listen. She heard nothing. No bear rumbling behind her, no Orc patrols ahead. Only smells of the night reached her senses. She approached the hiding place near the window, and knowing she was still unnoticed, she sat down behind the corner.

Feeling the stony path with her hand she found a little rock which was satisfactory for her needs. She took the rope from her shoulder and tied the other end around the rock, making a tight knot. "That should do it," she mused, whirling the stone above her head. Then, like for a reply to her wishes, the moon showed up for a moment and allowed her to see a glimpse of the window with a crooked pine above it. A quick peek, then back to cover, then a peek again. Some mental practice, and then, as the clouds covered the moon once more, she stepped out and threw the stone up to where she had seen the pine. Then, back to shelter, listening. The Orcs were still. She wound the rope in and noted with satisfaction that the other end had stuck somewhere. So far so good.

For a while Xena sat there, trying to make up her mind about what strategy to use. At last she sighed. "Oh, what the Morgoth! Who wants to live forever?" She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and wrapped a piece of cloth over its head. Then she poured the last drops from her oil flask to the cloth, set it on fire, took her bow and strung it. Quickly she jumped out of the shelter and fired at the window. At last there was action in the Orc mob, as her arrow scratched the Orc chieftain in the chest plate, and bounced off to a pile of straw used for a berth. The straws were dry as dust and caught fire instantly, and the Orcs were temporarily blinded by the surprising light.

But even before the arrow had found its target, Xena had taken the rope and begun to use it to assist her climbing. She got halfway up the hill before she was welcomed by the first Orc arrow. It was badly aimed, passing harmlessly over her head. By now she was so close that she could see clearly inside the room behind the window. In the back four Orcs were trying to stamp out the fire, the rest arranging a defense of bows in the front. And in the middle of the window was mounted the big bow, ready to fire.

Putting her whole weight on the thin rope she was clinging to, she pushed off to her left, landed on her back and tumbled on, listening to how the smaller arrows whistled aside. The big bow had yet to fire, but she wasn't going to linger for it. Without a pause in movement she removed her chakram from her hip and threw. The round weapon shrieked in the joy of flying; something it hadn't been allowed to do since the ambush after the Last Bridge a week before. Spinning wildly it whirled inside, cutting the string from the big bow on the way. It bounced from wall to wall, and the Orcs took cover before it, until at last it stopped the havoc by biting into a wooden support beam in the back.

There were a few seconds of complete stillness. Then the Orc chieftain raised his head, yelling commands to his subordinates in the Black Speech of the Orcs. But he was late, as Xena was already on the spot. Letting out the war cry she was so famous for, she flipped in through the window and met the Orcs, welcoming something dark from the back of some forgotten corner in her mind.