Chapter 6

A set of short, well-manicured fingers drummed impatiently atop the black forest desk. "Well?" The boss was not known as the most tolerant man in town, especially not at this time of day. The midnight blue of the sky was just beginning to take on the slightest tinge of violet, as dawn approached.

Lutheran's two best henchmen knew that their answer was not going to be the one the crime lord was looking for. Roscoe rolled his eyes left in Karl's direction. Karl, in turn, cocked his head right, toward Roscoe. Neither spoke.

The man behind the desk had had enough. He balled his stubby fingers into a tight fist and hammered it into the wood. "Well?!" Lutheran bellowed as a piece of spittle flew from his thin, stretched lips onto the lapel of Karl's designer jacket.

Roscoe snorted a nervous laugh at witnessing the aerial display, causing all eyes to suddenly shift upward. The large man pulled himself up to his full six foot, eleven-inch height and told their Boss, "It's like this, Mr. Lutheran, sir. Karl and me, we looked everywhere. But there just ain't no sign of the broad."

The boss man placed his right index finger aside his throbbing temple. Why did I hire men who speak as if they walked out of a 40's gangster movie? And not even a decent one at that. Where's James Cagney when you need him? Lutheran shook his head and turned his undivided attention back to the subject at hand. "You couldn't have search everywhere, otherwise you would have found her." He stood up slowly from his custom made, Italian leather chair. "Now, go and look everywhere else. Check every five-star and fleabag motel in the area, look under every manhole cover, turn over every rock, and tunnel inside every mouse hole if you have to, but find me that woman!!"

Lutheran had turned a most unflattering shade of burgundy by the time his little tirade had concluded. Purplish hued veins had begun to pop out on his neck and at his temples. Roscoe and Karl stood fixated on their boss. Each had separate thoughts as to when the head of the man behind the desk was going to explode. And neither wanted to miss the show. But the longer they stood there, the angrier Lutheran became, and the more saturated his face infused with color. It was a vicious circle.

"GO!" Lutheran screamed when he could take looking at the bug-eyed expressions of his men no longer. "And don't come back until you have her!" He screeched as they exited his office. "Not if you don't want to disappear!" were the last words Lutheran Ingles uttered as his henchmen slunk down the darkened hallway.

Chapter 7

"Ares, I know you can hear me. You can always hear me."

With that, the God of War shimmered down beside his Warrior Princess. At least that's how he thought of her, always had, always would. "I just love the way you do that," Ares growled.

"I don't have time to play with you, Ares." Xena bellowed back, loosing her patience.
"Fine, I'll just go back to my throne room and play with myself." Preparing to zap himself to Mount Olympus, Ares turned his back to Xena, which was always a mistake. Xena grabbed the hilt of Ares' sheathed sword, forcing him into a spin.

Caught off guard, the God was not prepared when Xena pulled the blade, which held the power of his godhood, out of its leather encasement. As he completed the 180-degree turn, Ares found the weapon pointed at his own throat. "I'm a God, Xena. That really isn't a threat to me."

"I know running you through with it isn't," Xena retorted, "but taking possession of it is." The warrior paused briefly to allow the implication to sink in. "After all, you did tell me once that I would make a magnificent Goddess of War." Xena emphasized her point by ending the question with a bright, winning smile.

"You're bluffing, Xena." Ares hoped.

"If only your face held the confidence of your words, Ares." Xena chopped at the pre-dawn air with Ares' sword. "It looks good on me, don't you think?"

"Xena!!!"

"You owe me, Ares." Xena had no need to remind him of the time she had spent under his command, leading his armies, winning his battles, bringing him followers. "You owe me big time." They stood at the bottom of the mountain, the fading moon, still full in the sky, illuminating Xena's fiery stare. Successive streaks of lightning, the presumed vehicle for the stranger's arrival, loomed hauntingly overhead. An owl hooted nearby, then flew away, leaving the two below standing in silence.

"That may be Xena, but what you're asking..." Ares shook his dark head, already well aware of what she was about to ask of him. The War God liked keeping tabs on his favorite ex-warlord. "No. No can do, sorry." He frowned when Xena grabbed the scruff of his leather vest and drew him close to face her, nose to nose.

"Now you listen to me, you pompous waste of space!" she demanded, snarling the words. "I don't care what it takes, or who you have to deceive to do it. Just DO IT, ARES!"

* * *

Dark chestnut eyes surveyed the situation… and as usual, he took great delight in the naked female form. "Oh my…"

Xena backslapped his shoulder. Ares gave her a hooded look and turned back to the stranger. The three stood over the naked body, contemplating it. The God of War waved a hand over the prone form and it began to glow amber. She let out a guttural howl and curled into a fetal position.

"What did you do to her!?" Gabrielle demanded, kneeling next to the woman, gathering her and a fur into her arms in order to conceal her nudity from Ares' prying eyes.

"I'm healing her, Gabrielle!" The exasperation in his voice was evident. "What does it look like I'm doing? Bones tend to hurt when they're being melded back together by something other than time, you know?" His voice was gruff and his frustration apparent, but he knew he owed Xena this much.

"When we speak to her, she doesn't understand. Can you do something about that while you're at it?" Xena asked, her eyes studying her bard as she protected the stranger.
"Maybe she doesn't speak our language." Ares interjected.

"I know that much, Ares, but can you do something?"

"Well, I suppose I could…" he drawled, then scowled when Xena belted him again. "Ok! Fine!" He shot an orange fireball at the red head, causing her to let out another gut-wrenching wail.

"STOP IT, ARES!" Gabrielle hollered, gathering the twitching form closer to her body for protection.

"I'm helping her, Blondie." He stated condescendingly.

Dari blinked her eyes open and stared up in shock into the worried green ones looking back down at her. Had she really understood... but how was that possible? She decided to test it; "Where am I?" she asked.

Ares' eyebrow shot up as he smirked at Xena. "That good enough?"

"Yeah, now get lost."

A shadow fell over his anger turned ebony eyes. "You're welcome, Xena."

Xena grabbed his arm before he could disappear. "Thank you," she said gruffly, without taking her eyes off the pair on the cave floor.

"Oh stop. Your gratitude is overwhelming." Ares sarcastically replied, before promptly disappearing. Xena knew he'd meddle in this at some future time, but for now she was grateful for his assistance. If the God of War chose to interlope later, she'd deal with him when that time came.

"What is your name?" Gabrielle asked softly, hands tenderly cupping the stranger's face.

"Darian Redmond, friends call me Dari."

"Dari…" Gabby tested it, and smiled. "I'm Gabrielle, and this is Xena." Her eyes lifted to Xena's, then down. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a cement truck."

Gabrielle and Xena exchanged confused looks. Xena shrugged; Gabrielle smiled and looked back at Dari. "I don't think we've heard of that before. What is a cement truck?"

"Huh?" Dari looked around and took in her surroundings, then turned back to Gabrielle. "Where am I?"

Gabrielle explained the series of events as they had occurred; beginning from the moment they saw her body trapped in the lightning. Dari sat, leaning against Gabrielle for a long time quietly absorbing the story she'd just heard. After a while, she muttered, "I've never heard of this place."

"Have you heard of Greece?"

"Yes."

"And the Gods?"

Again, "Yes," then came a moment of silence, "but in my world they're not real- just myths- stories."

"Not here. They're very real. The being that just left, that's Ares, God of War."

Dari's face was shrouded by confusion. She shook her head repeatedly. "This can't be."
"It can, and it is." Gabrielle caressed her cheek again. "Now relax, get some sleep. When you wake, we'll tell you more."

"I feel fine," she answered, realizing she was growing flushed between the lovely green-eyed woman's undivided attention and her companion's ever-watchful gaze. "I just need to walk a bit, get things circulating again." She tried to stand, but Gabrielle had a firm grasp on her. "I'm at least strong enough to get dressed now?" It came out more an embarrassed question rather than a statement of fact.

Gabrielle giggled and looked to Xena for assurance. Xena nodded, and the bard released her hold. Gabby stood and extended a hand, which Dari took and allowed herself to be pulled up, dragging the animal fur with her.

Once Dari was steady on her feet, Xena approached Gabrielle, took her arm, and led her to the far side of the cave. "First we find out who she is, why she's here, and how she got here, and then we send her back. Got it?"

Gabrielle smiled at her friend. "Can she at least have breakfast first, Xena?"

Xena's stern look melted, and she smiled guiltily. "Yes, of course, I meant after breakfast."

Gabrielle turned and stifled a gasp. The woman was dressed now in those strange pants and shirt, and she looked totally different than she had in that prone, 'I can't do a damn thing because every bone in my body's been broken,' position. She shot a look at Xena and saw that Xena's expression reflected her own.

"Did I grow a third eye?" Dari asked.

Gabrielle's lips curled into a dazzling smile, and she nudged Xena in the side.

"You look… different," Xena tried to explain, knowing her face was showing some dumb, admiring look. Probably the same appreciative gaze she cast on Gabrielle many times when the smaller woman surprised her with some action, or word.

"Well, I wouldn't be makin' fun if I were you." She nodded to the two of them, giving them both the once over. The dark woman was dressed in some kind of brown leather mini-dress with studded leather cut outs forming the bottom half. Swirls of metal fashioned a bust plate that fit snugly over her breasts and ended in a vee formation where her ribs met. Leather pieces also covered her wrists; Dari assumed as a measure of protection considering the fact that she carried a sword strapped to her back and a rather lethal looking circular metallic object snapped to her waistband.

Her legs were bare, but she wore thigh-high boots. These were no fashion boots either. They had no heel for added height, not like she needed any, and little decoration. Dari thought back and remembered seeing boots like these in a "Three Musketeers" movie, and not those half-baked remakes that had been released within the last decade, but the original Musketeers. The one starring Douglas Fairbanks.

The smaller blonde, on the other hand, was dressed in a pair of brown suede, calf length boots. Dari noted that this woman's weapon of choice gave off the appearance of an overgrown pair of bar-b-que forks. In actuality, the dual iron instruments were tri-pronged, the middle tine being the longest. Even though Dari hadn't seen the weapon up close, she surmised its size by the fact that the blonde kept one sheathed inside each boot.

The petite ones toned, nude legs were covered from the mid-thigh up by a horizontally pleated, rust-colored micro-shorts. Three narrow strips of burgundy leather dangled loosely down from the multi colored, crosshatched designed sash that covered the shorts waistband, as did several strands of small silver beads. A similarly decorated combination between a jogging bra and a belly top completed her ensemble, exposing taut abs and an inny belly button.

The two were a total dichotomy in their choice of apparel, but somehow they couldn't have complimented each other more. "You two look like a cross between gladiators and prehistoric cave dwellers in those get ups." Dari finally exclaimed after realizing that up until then she had let her eyes do all the talking.

Gabrielle and Xena again exchanged looks then stared at her. "Actually, we wear these every day." The warrior's eyes narrowed.

"The same thing?" Dari was dumbfounded at the very prospect.

"Yes." Gabrielle's expression mirrored Xena's again. "Don't you?"

"No. I have a fetching wardrobe as a matter of fact. To which I'd gladly give an eye-tooth to see right now." She brushed her hands down the white tee shirt and black jeans, brushing off the dirt accumulated from the run, the river, and now the cave. She spotted her leather jacket thrown off to the side and frowned. "And I need a bath."

Gabrielle's features took on a gloating expression. "Now that we can help you with."
"I can bathe on my own, but thanks for the offer."

Gabrielle laughed. "No, I mean we can show you where you can take a bath."

"Lead on McDuff."

Gabrielle once again exchanged a look with Xena. "So you've heard of the Gods, but where you come from they don't exist? They're really only stories?"

Dari nodded as they exited the cave and descended the mountain's side. "Most people in my time believe we have one God, and a devil, who was an arch-angel disgraced in Heaven and sent to a rule Hell."

At that Xena stopped walking. "We've been to this 'hell,' and we know all about archangels."

"You've been to Hell?" Dari looked as confused as she sounded.

"Yes, Gabrielle and I were crucified on the cross by Caesar, and we went to a sort of serene place, and then Gabrielle fell to Hell and I went to save her… it's a long story," she said, becoming somewhat flustered. Arching her eyebrows at her young companion, she urged, "Do the bard thing, Gabrielle." With that, she bounded down the hillside ahead of them.

Gabrielle gave her warrior's back an exasperated glance then she smiled up at Dari. "Do you know what a bard is?"

She was sure she did, but the word sounded strange to her modern day vocabulary.

"Haven't the foggiest," she finally admitted.

"I write and recite tales."

"Oh, a writer. I knew that." She beamed at Gabrielle.

"Later, I'll let you read my scrolls. If you wish?"

"Scrolls?" Again Dari didn't understand. She wasn't sure which was worse, not understanding the language at all, or understanding the words but not the meaning behind them.

"They are what I write my tales on." Gabrielle clarified.

"Oh. Well then, I'd like very much to read them." Dari smiled warmly at the woman's thoughtfulness. She also hoped that these 'scrolls' might give her a better understanding of where she was and what had happened to her.

Gabrielle grinned from ear to ear at the thought of having someone around who was actually interested in reading what she wrote. As she and Dari made their way to the bottom of the mountain, Gabrielle continued with the story of hers and Xena's crucifixion, which Dari listened to in silence and in awe.

Chapter 8

The sun was new in the sky as Lutheran headed toward the massive double doors leading inside his palatial estate. His Manservant, Collingsworth, met the master as he took the final step up the front entryway.

"Good Morning, Sir." Collingsworth spoke with the slightest of unrecognizable accents.

"What's good about it?" was Lutheran's reply as he tossed his briefcase and overcoat to the younger man. The crime lord had "acquired" his lifelong services in a weekend poker game, in which he had also won an Arabian stallion, a five carat emerald, and a Renoir that had been "picked up" a few years ago from the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy.
Collingsworth placed the attaché underneath the hanging coat inside the foyer closet before following Lutheran into the study. His boss was seated in a Louis the 14th settee located in front of the black marble fireplace. "Would you care for some breakfast this morning, Mr. Ingles?"

Lutheran eyed his servant, incredulously. "Why do you always ask me that? You know I don't eat before Noon." The master of the house returned his attention to the blazing fire as he waited for an answer.

Once Collingsworth realized that a reply was in order, he simply stated, "One day you might decide differently, and it would be ungentlemanly of me to assume otherwise."

At a loss for sarcasm in the wee hours of the day, Lutheran decided to debate the point at another time. "Get me a drink, Ole Boy." He laughingly referred to his servant by the moniker in his more subdued moments. To this request, Collingsworth walked over to the wall-sized bar and prepared a tumbler of single malt scotch, on the rocks. As soon as he knew the drink was to his master's preferred specifications, he delivered the clinking crystal container to the Louis the 14th table that sat beside the comparable chair. "Will there be anything else, Sir?"

Lutheran took the beverage before Collingsworth set it down and waved his cubby hand in the servant's general direction, conveying that his assistance was no longer required.

The Gentleman's Gentleman bowed reservedly before backing out of the study and pushing the door closed.

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