White Slaves Ch. 3

Xena remained a respectful distance away to leave their grief private. So he has held and comforted me like that, not long ago. The princess has done no wrong, but how many women have suffered at the hands of my men while I laughed about it? Hercules, my friend, my love, when you held me in you arms, I felt so secure, so supported, that I had a dream of stripping off my armor and weapons and burying them as symbols of the part of me that hated, that lusted for dominion and the blood of those who stood in my way. But then I realized that I must bear my arms still, this time to defend. I will defend those who cannot defend themselves. I will defend those who would suffer at the hands of people who are like what I once was.

"Milan, we must go," she called.

"Where, mistress?"

"We must finish this place. Listen, this beast we ride, it does not normally roam about the waters like this. Someone is keeping it active. It takes strong magic to do so. We must stop them and release this beast from its enchantment, or the citadel will be occupied again. Follow me!"

They paused to do battle with small knots of brigands along the way. Dunwich ships had docked and marines were routing the pirates stranded on the floating citadel. The ships cast off and chased down the frigates that were escaping. Milan ordered the marines to fall back as Xena led him towards the massive head of the zaraten. They were stalled by archers who were holed up in the heavy bunker until marine grenadiers threw flasks of burning oil through the arrow slits. The two warriors led the charge into the complex.

"Kill the one with magi's robes," Xena said as she cut down a brigand who had survived the flames.

"I see him," Milan said as he picked a harpoon from a rack on the wall. The magician was too busy trying to steady the wounded zaraten to cast another spell. The ranger heaved the missile and it smashed through the body of a man in black and gold robes, almost passing completely through him. With the enchantment dispelled, the zaraten acted in its own defense and started to dive. The heroes headed for the edge of the shell where a Dunwich ship had came alongside. Princess Esmerelda waved for her soldiers to hurry as the living island sank. A wave of panicked slavers swarmed to board the ship, but were repelled and cast back into the foaming sea.

"Looks like we've won," said Milan, "We've destroyed the black heart of the beast, now its tentacles will die off."

"I'm afraid not," Xena said grimly, "The limbs will grow new beasts. The factions within the guild will now vie for power, and when they reform, they'll be back for vengeance.

"It will be their last mistake," Esmerelda said as they watched the burning ships slip beneath the waves. The water was thick with the flotsam of the ruined fortress and the bodies of the marauders. "When we get back, the first thing I will ask of my father is the curettage of the port cities. The guild and the slavers will be no more."

"Bandar's government is rife with corruption," the captain of the naval ship interjected. "The city will go to war to protect the guild."

"Then let there BE war! These wretches kill our neighbors and sell our children. They will not be able to hide behind the throne of a spineless noble anymore. It won't matter if we keep our mining colony across the Blood Sea when our own city is not safe."

Princess Esmerelda went to Willow River as emissary, with Milan and Xena as her escorts. They completed the task, and the objective of Dunwich's military shifted from holding the mithril mines to patrolling the borders and sea lanes. Xena was right about the slavers. Though the might of the guild had suffered from the defeat at Calimport, and even more so in the weeks that followed as the bid for power was on, the markets had already appeared in other cities. As long as Esmerelda and Milan lived, though, they vowed that the women of Dunwich would not be among the unfortunate females sold there.

Xena accepted the princess's offer to stay in the keep. She was happy to be close to Milan, who had elected for garrison duty. But as the days passed into the cool winds of fall, she had begun to think more of the hills of her homeland, of the songs of the women during the harvest season. The pleasant citizens of Dunwich, all of a sudden, seemed indifferent. Their easy charm seemed to pale as her need to return home deepened. Milan sensed the change in her and tried to get her to talk about it, but she could never bring herself to say what was going on inside of her. She didn't know how to tell him why she must leave or, more importantly, how to convince him that she needed to go on alone. Esmerelda had noticed Xena's plight. She asked her about it one night.

"You have been a very gracious host, Princess," Xena reassured her,"and I've felt very welcome here. Everyone has been kind, but I must leave you now. I must return to my homeland."

"I wish you well, Xena. You'll be welcome in our city if you ever come this way again." Esmerelda worried her lip and shook her head, saying softly, "I wish we had more warriors like you. And it looks like I loose my personal guard once again."

"What do you mean? With Justin gone, Milan is even more committed to ensuring your safety."

"Not likely," she said. "I've seen the way he looks at you, how his heart opens every time he hears your voice."

"He can't come with me. I've too far to go to reach my home." She shut her eyes, remembering her last words with her mother, remembering the words of defiance and bloody ambition. "It may not be my home anymore."

"He loves you, Xena."

"He may love me, but he needs you. That's more important to his own happiness than being at the side of his first lover."

"Will you tell him?"

"When I can find the heart to. If I ever can find the heart to."

"You can. You must. Your feelings are strong, but they have a price."

"It's too great!"

"Yes, Xena. But even though it hurts, there's comfort in such pain."

"I don't understand."

"Poor woman. I guess you don't. And there's nothing that can be done to change how things are or to lessen what you feel. Alas for you, Warrior Princess. And alas for the man dear to us both."

Milan was writing at his desk. It was his fourth draft, finally one he was willing to sign, and he did so carefully. He spread a pinch of sand to dry the ink and rubbed his eyes. Tomorrow he would promote his lieutenant and they would both be there when he presented his resignation to the castello. He had turned the problem over many times in his mind, but he always came to the same thing. Something was bothering Xena, something that she wouldn't talk about. And if there was a solution to her troubles, she wasn't finding it in the city. He was determined that she wouldn't have to search for it alone. This time, he would not let his career defeat his feelings for a woman. There was a soft knock at his door.

"If that's you, squire, you're dismissed for the night."

He gawked as Xena entered the room. She was clad in a silken gown. A pale blue, see-through garment that...

It was the first time he had seen Xena like this. When she was in her armor, weapons in hand, she had always projected power , but this was a different kind of power. Different, but by no means weaker.

Esmerelda was right, Xena thought. There was something precious in the pain itself. A lump formed in her throat and she looked shyly at the floor as she tried to remember the speech she had rehearsed all afternoon in her suite. The words evaded her as Milan rose and opened his arms for her.

You never showed me this side, Hercules. When we parted, I knew it was for the best. But now I want to stay! I want to ride with him through the meadows in the spring. I want to share my dreams with him, as he has with me. I want to not have to wonder where I can spend the night safely or when I'll be eating again. I want to be able to greet people without worrying if my weapons are within easy reach. I want to hold his power when we are in bed, to feel his heartbeat against my breast and hear how sweetly my name sounds in his whispers while we make love. But it cannot be so. I have a dark road to follow, and he cannot be part of it. This part of me cannot live right now, not with the wraiths of unforgiven sins grasping for me in my sleep.

"Why are you crying, mistress?"

She looked at him, the desperation almost wrecking her. "Don't call me that, Milan. We are more than warriors."

"Aye, dear one," he said as ran his hands through her dark hair, brushed his lips against the delicate skin of her neck, the soft spot behind her ears.

On the brink of tears, she was robbed of any chance to tell him. The comfort of his arms was something that tore away her resolve. She had faced sword and arrow and fist, most of the time without so much as a flinch, but she fell to his gentle touch, cowered at the aspect of losing him to the cold, empty future she faced.

She stepped away from him as she slipped the straps of the filmy gown off her shoulders. The sadness gave way to something else, something that was much more urgent and replaced the ache in her heart with fire. The gossamer fabric floated down to her feet, and she stepped out of it as she took Milan's hands, tugging him onto the bed with her.

Xena's body was feverish, insistent as she arched against him. Her strong thighs squeezed him as they kissed. Her fingers locked in the lengths of his hair as he kissed her chin, her throat, the hollows of her clavicles. He could feel the throb of her pulse beneath her skin as his lips caressed the curve of her neck. His hips rocked powerfully with a slow rhythm. She rubbed her calves along the back of his legs, squeezed his ass and felt the muscles there flex as he continued his wonderful strokes, but he wouldn't come yet. Her hands clenched the sheets of the bed into sweaty bunches. Milan took her hands in his, raveling his fingers with hers, pulled them over her head as he sped up. Xena screamed out as their flesh pounded together.

In a few minutes, they were interrupted by banging at the door. Milan poked his head out the door and whispered a lame, embarrassed excuse to the alarmed servants while Xena giggled. She'd rarely done that, especially not around a man, but she could not deny the feeling as they grinned at each other sheepishly and laughed together once the servants' footsteps receded.

He climbed back into bed with her, rolling and tangling in the sheets while they rained soft kisses over each other. This time their embraces were relaxed, more tender, as the flames of lust softened into the warmth of affection.

Afterwards, she got up and looked out the balcony at the city that was still asleep. The evening air was crisp and her joy was tempered as she realized she still didn't know what to say to him. She realized that she was hurting them both, but she didn't know what to do. Milan was sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching out to her.

"Come back to bed, Xena, there's still some night left."

"Hold me, Milan," she said, grateful for the darkness that hid the suffering in her eyes. She knew that this would have to last her a long time.

The morning sun streamed through the window and warmed Milan's face. He shifted in the pleasant feeling of drowsiness, reached out to put his arm around Xena. He felt only the rumpled sheets were she had been, already cool. The room was silent and empty when he sat up and looked around. He pulled on a robe and started to go to her quarters, but he stopped before he even reached the door. He already knew what he would find. And even though he was bitterly disappointed, he wasn't too surprised. He looked from his window at the world that was waking. It was a clear day that was indifferent to his sorrow as the woman of his heart rode out of his life.

The lands where she was riding were sunlit, the sky was the same soft blue as her eyes. He watched it all through his tears.