“c1″> 

“c1″>"As far as I remember your regulations ten strokes
would be more appropriate, you also didn’t mention the
manacles and ankle restraints. I knew what I got myself into,
there’s no need to make exceptions."

“c1″> 

"I
didn’t, these laws were changed when I took the Queen’s
mask, Xena. The restraints originally served not to remind their
bearer of their slavery but to hinder any attempt at escape from
it. It’s difficult to climb trees and run through forest and
undergrowth when you can’t move your limbs freely. But
it’s been generations since an Amazon was forced to be a
slave held by guilt. It was always a voluntary decision, as it was
with you. Even the Amazons legally sentenced to slavery had the
choice to instead leave the nation. So there’s no point in
wearing additional reminders apart from the slave collar.
That’s also why I reduced the number of strokes. Your primary
obligation the upcoming days and weeks will be to tend to your
soldiers and also to Gabrielle. – I know you are still
concerned about her, about the poison but you’d better try to
get some sleep. Tomorrow won’t be a stroll through the
woods."

“c1″> 

“c1″> 

x x x x
x

“c1″> 

“c1″> 

The
collaring ceremony saw no unpleasant surprises but when Xena some
candlemarks later tended to her men, Chulapa burst through the
tent’s flap and called her to the healer’s hut. Rushing
through the dense forest at breakneck speed, she found Gabrielle
white hot with fever due to the poison on the spear’s blade.
Anara’s face told her enough to know that there was little
left to be done.

“c1″> 

“c1″>Gabrielle’s whole body was covered with sweat, she
was shivering, her hands and feet were ice cold, and her face was
burning hot. Her breathing was laborious and ragged; the whole area
around the spear wound was inflamed. She was wrapped in dripping
wet blankets in an attempt to reduce her temperature but to no
avail. The healing tea Anara somehow had managed to pour down her
throat didn’t kick in, and every breath she took seemed to be
weaker than the one before pushing her more and more away from
life. Xena knew she was running out of time.

“c1″> 

“c1″>"Anara, is there a shaman in the village or
nearby?"

“c1″> 

“c1″>"No, Xena. I’m sorry; you did a great job
with her leg and shoulder. You better say your good-byes to
her."

“c1″> 

"I
can’t let her die, Anara. I need a room where we can be
alone; I don’t want to endanger anybody else. And I’ll
need a brazier to burn herbs and spices. They have to be newly
harvested, I’ll be back soon."