Warrior Dreams

A campfire burned low, and three warrior women slept under a clear sky. A sprinkling of stars glimmered through the darkness, while a new moon glowed.

Eve lay curled up on her side, her thumb perilously close to her mouth. A small whimper escaped her lips, and she began to toss a little in her sleep.

. . . they were back in her mother’s hometown – but it looked so different. The buildings were tumbledown shacks, ruins filled with refuse and cobwebs. The place seemed empty . . . the figures ghostlike, malevolent.

There she was, her grandmother! But no – she looked right through her, as though she was nothing, invisible. In that place of her mother’s she felt invisible. Even when she looked in the mirror she could not see her face. Only Livia’s, taunting her. And the thousand victims who stepped out and around her, mocking her, filling the place with blood . . .

It all became clear. They were filled with evil, and they were all against her. The whole place was evil. There they were, her mother, Gabrielle – and Virgil, how had he arrived so quickly? – they were all against her. They wanted to kill her . . .

She was running through the forest, and they were behind her, searching for her. She had to die. A sword would save her, but she’d die if she had to touch one again, she’d die . . .

Gabrielle lay flat on her back, her arms covering her face. Muffled snores echoed, and her feet twitched.

Heh. Finally, Xena was asking her for advice. Actually, it didn’t seem so strange. It seemed quite ordinary, that she would be leaping from building to building, in amidst flames, leading her friend to save an entire town. Why not? After all, she’d led the Amazons to victory . . . why couldn’t she show Xena a thing or two?

Yes, and now Xena was asking her to defeat a warlord on her behalf. No problem. Carry Xena up a mountain? Easy. She could do that, and balance her friend’s chakram on her hip without a problem. A little water from a fountain . . . just a fling of the chakram, and the water flowed freely. The chakram returned with ease to her hand.

Why not? She could fight an army, save a town, destroy a trained swordsman . . . Xena was disappearing now, fading away as the sun grew smaller, retreating behind the mountains. It didn’t matter, because she could catch the chakram . . .

Xena lay on her stomach, resting her head comfortably on her arms. She pulled her furs around her more closely, and nestled into their warmth.

. . . she’d been here before. And this costume – her hair! Oh, of course she was in disguise. It was that horribly degrading beauty contest – had to hide her attributes, or she’d have half the island after her.

Had to solve a murder. A murder, and a mystery. Empower the women at the same time. This was getting out of hand . . .

Ahh. Victory night. Grinning as the women dropped out, one by one. And smiling as the cross-dresser claimed the prize . . . tearing off his wig, and revealing . . .

Ares?

“HELP!”

“NOOO!”

“ARGHHH!”

They sat up simultaneously and stared at each other, wild-eyed, wild-haired, and trembling.

“I feel like death,” Xena moaned.

Eve recoiled.

“Join the club,” Gabrielle replied rudely, running her fingers through her hair. “Talk about beauty sleep!”

“What was in that stew you gave us last night, Gabrielle?” Xena asked her furiously, getting up. She crawled over to Gabrielle’s saddle-bag, and started to rummage through it.

“Stop it!” Gabrielle returned, making a fruitless grab at the recipe. “Don’t blame me – it was your turn to cook, anyway . . .”

“My turn?” Xena laughed sarcastically. “And when have I ever cooked when it was my turn? Ah – ha!” She brandished a torn piece of parchment triumphantly. “I saw you referring to this . . . oh no!”

“What – what is it?” Eve asked in a timid voice, looking at her mother’s horrified face.

“Gabrielle, this is in Joxer’s handwriting,” Xena said seriously. “You could have killed us!”

Gabrielle snatched it from her and hid it behind her.

“It wasn’t the recipe at all, Xena!” she shouted. “It was those weird mushrooms you insisted on adding to the pot!”

“Give me that parchment. I have to destroy it!”

“No! You can’t make me!”

Xena laid a hand on her chakram. A single eyebrow rose. “I can’t?”

Gabrielle made a grab at the chakram, just as Xena pulled it from her belt. Suddenly it was in her grasp.

“My –“

“Nooo!” Gabrielle shrieked, dropping the weapon on the ground. “I don’t want it . . . I don’t want it!”

She turned and ran. Xena stared after her with a bemused expression. Then she shrugged.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Eve. Evie?”

She turned to see her daughter, dressed, packed, and mounting her horse.

“Er – mother? I’ve decided to head East.”

“East again? But you’ve only just got back!” Xena exclaimed, moving towards her daughter. Eve flinched a little, and shrank back.

“I – I really feel it’s for the best. I’ve been called!” Eve said feebly. “I . . . have to go now, mother. Goodbye.”

Xena shook her head. “Strange. Very strange. It couldn’t have just been those mushrooms. I was sure . . .”

Suddenly a look of fury came over her face.

“Of course! Ares . . . Ares, come out! You’ve been trying to separate me from my friends for years, and . . .”

Ares appeared, grinning.

Xena screamed.

“What? Don’t run . . . what’s the problem? My outfit? You’ve seen it before, you’ve even danced with me – remember Illusia? It’s not a dress . . . It’s NOT A DRESSSS!”

Please e-mail the author of this story with your comments. carly@lifestart.org.au.



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