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Mistress of the Two Lands

by L.Fox

For my wonderful friend Marcella R. Wiggins, may all your dreams come true..

The characters Xena, Gabrielle, and Janice Covington are the property of Renaissance Pictures and no copyright infringement is intended. All other characters are mine except the actual historical figures Hatshepsut, Neshi, Senenmut, Sennefer and Thutmose III. This story contains descriptions of violence and describes the two main characters as more than just "friends." While certain events in this story are based upon historical fact it should be remembered that this is, after all, a work of fiction.

Continues from here


Chapter 6
It was at that precise moment when the setting sun first gently kissed the Theban cliffs on the opposite side of the Nile that the toe of Xena's boot pressed down on the last of the long series of steps that led up to Hatshepsut's palace. For the last several hours she had more or less followed in Gabrielle's wake while the young woman wandered the streets of the Egyptian capital to her heart's content. Unfortunately it had not taken them long to discover that Thebes was in fact not the fabulously rich, "hundred gated city" of Homer's "Iliad." Indeed, except for the government buildings and the occasional home of an elite member of Egyptian society the city was by and large like all the other Egyptian cities they had previously seen. That is, a smattering of limestone in a veritable sea of drably colored mud brick.

However it had not taken Gabrielle long to get over her initial disappointment. She was, after all, a people person above all else and soon enough she was joyfully immersed in the swarming throngs jamming the streets of the great city. At one of the many markets she was sampling some of the local fare one minute and the next gleefully haggling over the price of a rather shoddily made pair of Egyptian sandals.

A half hour later she was standing on the banks of the Nile coaxing a reluctant Xena into a rock skipping contest. For the next quarter hour they had taken turns skipping stones on the Nile and it mattered not one iota to the bard that Xena had of course beaten her decisively every single time. All that really mattered to her was that they were here, together, enjoying the blessed miracle of life the Titans Prometheus and Epimetheus had so long ago bestowed on that lowly lump of clay from which it is said they had fashioned man.

This then, was how they had spent the afternoon, completely absorbed in each other. As far as they were concerned they could just as well have been totally alone despite the teeming multitudes all around them. And as they had whiled away the peaceful hours together, the normally very pragmatic Xena found herself becoming caught up in the magic of what was turning out to be a very special day. It had been so long since she and Gabrielle had spent time like this together and only now had the warrioress realized how much she missed that. It was almost enough to make her feel...content. Almost.

Ambling through the streets with this ebullient beauty, listening to her "ooh" and "ahh" at each new discovery, basking in the radiant glow of her bard's love, Xena had decided this was about as good as it got. She was here, Gabrielle was here, they had each other, and at the moment nothing else really counted for much.

However all too soon the shadows began to lengthen and as they did Xena's thoughts had begun to inexorably shift away from her precious bard and back to the enigmatic Egyptian woman/king. Finally, with the sun no more than a fist's width above the Theban cliffs, Xena had turned to Gabrielle and quietly declared, "It's time."

Gabrielle, stout-hearted little warrior that she was, understood immediately their carefree afternoon was at an end and it was once again time to as Xena liked to say, "Get focused." With a grin she had simply replied, "Let's do it."  

So here they now were, standing before the magnificent palace of the great Hatshepsut as twilight settled over the city.

"You know," said Gabrielle, thoughtfully laying a finger on her cheek, "I could get used to a place like this."

Xena, ever practical, wryly replied, "Not me. The cost in chamber pots alone for this place would be enough to kill ya."

Gabrielle chuckled and it was here that someone robed in brilliant white materialized from the dark area behind the great columns. The man that was this ghost-like apparition was very young, very thin, and Xena could not help but notice the dignified manner with which he carried himself.

When the young man reached them he addressed them in flawless Greek, asking "You are the Greek women, are you not?"

"We are," Xena answered, matter-of-factly.

"Which of you is the one the Great Goddess is expecting?"

"I am," said Xena.

"Follow me please."

"Uhh, if it's all the same to you, Xena," said Gabrielle, "I'll just wait for you out here."

"Are you sure?" Xena asked. "Wouldn't you rather come inside and wait?"

"Nahh," the bard replied. "It's a beautiful evening. I'll just wait here."

"All right," said Xena, shrugging. "If that's what you want." She turned to go and then suddenly stopped. Turning back, she cautioned, "Don't wander off now."

"I won't," Gabrielle assured her.

Xena and the young man departed and Gabrielle watched them until they disappeared behind the towering palace columns. She then strolled over to the low retaining wall which bordered the great courtyard. Placing her hand on the wall for leverage, she nimbly hopped up and backwards, perfectly seating herself on one of the great stones that made up the wall. In the west the sun was sinking behind the cliffs and as it slowly disappeared Gabrielle found herself feeling just a twinge of regret that this marvelous day ever had to end.

She was sitting there quietly watching the sun go down when four servants dressed only in kilts and sandals came forth from the palace and began to light the several large lamps strategically placed around the courtyard. Gabrielle idly watched them tend to their business for a few moments and she then began to think about Hatshepsut again. What, she wondered, could possibly be her reason for wanting to speak with Xena privately?

What was it Xena had said? "She wants something from me." That could mean practically anything and was in fact not really all that much of a revelation to the bard anyway. It was fairly certain Hatshepsut was not summoning Xena here so that the warrioress could regale her with some of her old sea stories.

But what could she want with Xena? Could it be something militaristic in nature? Possibly, she thought. Xena's cryptic remark about the sword worried her a little. Undoubtedly Neshi had fully informed his king as to who Xena was. Was she in some way interested in making use of Xena's extraordinary "skills" as Xena herself seemed to have hinted upon? Gabrielle hoped not. If this was indeed the case she would prefer to believe Xena would turn her down. However always in the back of her mind the nagging fear persisted that Xena might just be bored enough to say yes. With her one just never knew.

This was the old fear that always resurfaced whenever Xena was this close in proximity to such sweeping power. The last time had been in the spring of the previous year when the Aetolians had gladly given her supreme command of their huge army. On that occasion Xena had exercise her her vast power with magnificent honor.

Clearly Hatshepsut was shrewd--very shrewd. After all, she had not made the astounding leap from co--regent with the young Thutmose III to undisputed ruler of all Egypt by being naive or timid. No, here was a woman who not only knew what she wanted, but how to get it.  

Their task done, the four servants quietly retreated back into the darkness, leaving Gabrielle all alone once again. The sun was completely gone now, its sovereignty over the sky now replaced for the time being by Hesperus, the brilliant embodiment of the evening star now hanging low in the western sky.

With a soft sigh, she said, "Oh well." Only with her mind did she complete the thought. I guess I'll know soon enough.

As she so often did when trying to put something out of her mind, Gabrielle fell back on her bulwark--her stories. Concentrating on a story had always been a very effective way for her to calm her fears, lift up her spirits, and ease her pain. Often no one but Xena ever heard the fruits of her labors but to her that mattered little. As far as Gabrielle was concerned this simple real joy was enough. She would rather share them with no one but her beloved across a simple fire than stand before thousands in the biggest theater in all Athens but without her precious warrioress. As Xena would sometimes say, that was a no-brainer.

So she sat there on the great stone and began by unrolling her mental scroll. Her latest effort was a love story surrounding a blacksmith named Davidicus and a young maiden named Leisa. Now let's see, she thought. Where did I leave off? Oh yeah....

Gabrielle closed her eyes and began to very softly whisper. Normally she liked to be far more demonstrative when working, going so far as to many times act out each part with complete with different voices. Her old friend Darinius in particular always enjoyed seeing her do that. Right now, though, sitting here enshrouded in the aura of this breathtaking symbol of absolute power, she did not feel so very ebullient. But of course, with her that was subject to change.

"At first Davidicus refused to believe the terrible things the old hag was saying about his beloved Leisa. In fact he became so irate at her that he even went so far as to threaten her with bodily harm if she did not stop her lies. However, to his complete and utter devastation, Pensa, the cunning enchantress, had provided irrefutable proof..."  
Inside the palace Xena was led down what seemed to her like an endless series of corners and long, well lit corridors. Finally, she and her guide turned one last corner and there before them were the great double doors that were the entrance to Hatshepsut's private chambers.

Posted outside the beautifully crafted doors were two men, burly by Egyptian standards, each rigidly standing at attention and bearing a long spear in the "parade rest" position.

"We are here," said the guide, rather unnecessarily as far as Xena was concerned. The two of them walked up to the doors and there she took a moment to size up the nearest of the two guards. The man's forward gaze did not change as the warrioress stood only a cubit away, coolly eyeing him up and down.

Planting the tip of her tongue in her cheek she silently concluded, No threat whatsoever.

Casting a snide glance at Xena's sword, the young man said, "You must have made quite an impression on the Daughter of Amen today. Otherwise these guards would have broken you in two for daring to come her armed."

Xena lifted an amused eyebrow and with mild sarcasm replied, "Ohh, I'm sooo grateful for their ahh, restraint."

"The pharaoh herself personally ordered them to let you pass," he said. "It is forbidden for armed individuals to enter here but the king in her divine mercy expressly made an exception in your case."

"Lucky me," Xena purred.

The door handle was made of pure gold and laying his hand on it, the guide softly said, "Do not speak until the king addresses you."

Yeah, right! thought Xena, slightly irritated by his admonition. Who does this guy think he's talking to?

As if reading her thoughts, the young man added, "If you do it will be a most grievous insult."

"Keep your robe on," said Xena. "I'm not here to insult anyone." Still, she could not help but mumble under her breath, "Yet."

"If you speak first I will not translate unless she bids me to do so," the young man persisted.

By now Xena's patience with this nettlesome fellow was wearing thin. In that low, throaty, menacing tone of voice she used so well she replied, "Just open the damn door."

Momentarily taken aback by her quiet intensity, the wide-eye young man stared at her for just a moment before finally pulling on the latch.

With just a hint of a smirk Xena asked "Aren't you going to knock?"

Ignoring her, he pushed the great door open and stepped inside.

Xena paused a beat before following him inside. What she saw there was enough opulence to surprise even her. To begin with the room was huge, almost as large as the great hall where she and the others had stood for so long that morning. A quick scan of the room revealed several doors leading off from this central area. The floor, she noted, was made of beautifully polished black marble. Judging from its texture she guessed it had come not from the quarries of Greece but from the mountains of Phrygia far across the Aegean.

At strategic points in the great room fires were lit in large metal, bowl-like receptacles mounted atop ornate bronze bases. All about the room were exquisitely crafted works of art. Among them were a cat fashioned from ivory, a stele with images of lotus flowers carved into it, a small sphinx made of red granite, two gorgeous statues of a man holding what looked to be a young girl, and numerous ornaments made of gold, silver, and polished bronze. There were many other items as well but the thing that really caught her eye was the full size statue of a lion she saw across the way. This, she observed, seemed to be made of pure gold. For some reason a disturbing word popped into her head...plunder.

When the young man saw what she was looking at he explained, "A humble token of esteem from the king's loyal subjects in Nubia,"

Humble, my ass, Xena thought, wryly. For obvious reasons the object made her think of an old friend. If Autolycus saw this he would think he had died and gone to....well, wherever it is that good-hearted thieves go. This in turn made her warmly think of Gabrielle. If only she could see this place. What a story she could weave out of this!

She was still entertaining fond thoughts of her bard when a lithe form appeared in her peripheral vision. Xena noted that this time it was a woman dressed in the plainly woven habiliments of an Egyptian servant. As always Xena's eye for detail missed very little as she watched this solemn-faced woman approach.

Joining them, the woman first cast a somewhat apprehensive glance at Xena's big sword before speaking to the young man. Their entire exchange consisted of a couple of terse sentences each and since they naturally spoke in Egyptian Xena had no real clue as to what they were saying. However she did not need the help of words at all in order to ascertain the guide's sudden surprise and dismay. His expression told it all and whatever she had said certainly was a shock to him.

Xena's guide finished the brief conversation with a nod and a one word reply whereupon the woman abruptly turned on the heels of her bare feet and departed.

"What was that all about?" Xena asked.

"She...she said the Daughter of Amen is waiting for you--us..." Here he swallowed hard before continuing. " the royal bedroom."

So that's it, thought Xena. Aloud she asked "And that makes you nervous, right?"

"No," the young man replied. "Merely being in her presence makes me nervous. The idea that I, a lowly scribe, am about to actually set foot in the pharaoh's bedroom...terrifies me!"

"Well buck up," said Xena, clapping a strong hand on his shoulder. "I hate to tell you this but she puts her sandals on one foot at a time just like you do."

"Ahhh, actually--she doesn't I am told."

"Don't tell me somebody does it for her," said Xena, incredulously. To her this was a bit much even for a king.

"Of course," the young matter--of--factly replied. "It is beneath the daughter of a god to perform such menial tasks."

Uhh huh, thought Xena. There was a time not that long ago when at the command of an army numbering in the tens of thousands she had controlled an area the size of many nations. And yet never, NEVER, had she been so decadently self-indulgent as to require that some poor vassal put her boots on for her.

Of course, it did not count that Gabrielle had done it for her a few times after she had been banged up from an especially tough fight. That was...different.

I wonder if Hatshepsut has somebody wipe her ass for her as well, thought Xena.

"Come," the guide said. "We must not tarry. She is waiting."

She probably does at that, Xena mused, completing her train of thought.  

Moments later the two of them found themselves standing in front of the heavy wooden door leading to Hatshepsut's inner chambers.

Staring wide--eyed at the door, the young man raised his hand to knock but first her paused for a moment and repeated his earlier comment. "You must have made quite an impression on the Daughter of Amen." This time, however, his tone was not sarcastic or disparaging but rather filled with respect and not a little wonder. Who is this woman? he thought.

Xena was not placated by his tone. To her mind he was simply stalling. "Go on," she said, visually prodding him with a slight nod of the head.

The young man took a deep breath and softly rapped his knuckles on the door. Immediately it swung open and there they were met by yet another of Hatshepsut's many servants.

This one was decidedly different even though from the guide's demeanor Xena knew her to be only an attendant. She was older, more mature. By the look of her Xena guessed she was probably in her mid-forties at least. The difference did not end there. In sharp contrast to the plainly dressed young woman that had received them earlier, this woman was clad in beautiful flowing robes of finely woven blue cloth. Additionally, she wore a plain thin band of gold wrist--hardly something one would expect from someone of this station in life. Nevertheless her face was painted in the familiar style the warrioress had seen on other, much more affluent Egyptian women. There was also a faint scent of fine perfume emanating from her as well. Clearly this woman was a favorite of the king and more than simply a trusted thrall.

Except for the space at the door the chambers were surprisingly dark, lit only at sporadic intervals by fat, stubby candles. In an effort to acclimate her eyes to the dim light as quickly as possible Xena picked out a particularly dark area and stared intently into it.

The woman murmured something to the guide and from his reaction one would have thought he had been suddenly been bitten on the behind by Scylla herself. At once he pulled off his sandals and carefully placed them by the door. However he made no indication that Xena was expected to do the same. Instead the woman in a low tone simply said, "Follow me."

As Xena soon discovered this was but an anteroom to the royal bedroom. In this tenebrous place she could make out among other things still more statues along with a divan, a footstool, a low table and a large cabinet. On the other side they encountered still another door, this one of considerably lighter construction. Xena's intuition told her this was it. She guessed the immense size of those other doors mattered little to Hatshepsut as it was highly unlikely that she ever had to open one of them anyway. This, though, this was her door. This was confirmed for her soon enough when the woman raised her hand and knocked on the door as gently as if it were made of the rice paper Xena remembered from her days in Chin.  

"Enter," a firm voice commanded. The final confirmation. It was Hatshepsut herself.

The woman pushed open the door and the three of them entered the royal bedroom of Hatshepsut, Pharaoh of Egypt, Daughter of Amen, Mistress of the Two Lands. The room itself was lit considerably better than the anteroom and to Xena's great surprise, was smaller than what she had expected. Although it was spacious and certainly could not be described as cramped, to her observant eyes it seemed strangely inconsistent given the Egyptian royals' penchant for the gigantic. Here there were no statues or exquisite works of art and with a few exceptions the place was for the most part devoid of that mind numbing opulence Xena had come to expect from the Egyptian elite.

Looking about, she saw another divan which, not surprisingly, was much more plush than the one she had seen in the anteroom. Several fine chests and cabinets lined one entire wall at the corner of which there stood a large, beautifully crafted table. On this table were assorted brushes, combs and three objects that from this distance looked be mirrors of varying sizes.

Covering the floor was a fabulously woven Persian carpet and this was matched by the thick, gilded curtains which were now dividing off a full one third of the room. These were drawn shut and Xena did not need the intellect of Plato to know that behind those curtains stood the royal bed.

Almost in terror the poor scribe dropped to his knees and bent down until his forehead touched the floor. "The warrior woman and the scribe, Daughter of Amen," he heard the servant woman quietly announce.

From behind the curtains a voice bade, "Leave us."

With deep respect the servant woman bowed her head despite being totally out of her pharaoh's sight. Taking small steps, she backed out of the room, it being unthinkable for her to turn her back on this, the holy Daughter of Amen.

Once she pulled the door together and was gone there fell a tense silence upon the room. The scribe was still down in his subservient pose and standing next to him, Xena could do nothing but roll her eyes in exasperation; shake her head; and wait.

Finally after an eon-like couple of minutes Hatshepsut's clear voice broke the silence. "Rise, scribe." For the holder of the fabled Double Crown of Egypt there was no need to see the civil servant groveling on the floor. She knew he was there.

The scribe rose to his bare feet and cast an apprehensive look at Xena. By now his face was as pale as his robes.

Don't lock up on me now, boy, she thought.

Again Hatshepsut spoke and this time Xena made out her own name among the otherwise indecipherable syllables. She looked expectantly at the scribe and listened to the nervous young man's verbatim translation. "Tell the great Xena, Destroyer of Nations, I will see her now."

Destroyer of Nations! the warrioress thought, mildly surprised. It's been a while since I was called that.

If it was an attempt at flattery on Hatshepsut's part it did not work because Xena was far too perspicacious for that. She was well aware that the pharaoh had spoken those words with the full knowledge that her cringing vassal would not dare paraphrase her royal words. It only served to heighten Xena's curiosity. I wonder what she wants.

Xena stepped to the drawn curtains and, finding the slit, slowly parted them. Looking back, she expected to find the scribe right behind her but this was not the case. The scribe was still anchored solidly to the same spot. She shot him a quizzical look but his only reply was several desperate little shakes of the head. As far as he was concerned the great god Amen himself could not drag him in there without an express order from Hatshepsut. After all, she too was a god. Suit yourself, thought Xena, with a faint shrug. And she stepped inside. There she saw no terrible god, but a woman.

Hatshepsut, Daughter of Amen, Owner of the Two Lands, Pharaoh of all Egypt, was standing beside an ornate chair located next to her bed. The expression on her face was impassive except for her dark eyes which burned with deep intensity as they bored in on the Greek woman.

Returning her steely gaze, Xena noticed the beard was now gone. Also, Hatshepsut had discarded the ceremonial kilt and was now clad only in a rather tight, simple looking ankle length gown held up by straps that tapered in width as they ascended the shoulders. As before she wore no jewelry at all.

When Xena had closed the curtains behind her Hatshepsut strode over next to her and in a normal voice spoke, "Scribe, can you hear me?"

"Distinctly, Great Pharaoh," the young man nervously replied. Already he understood well this was going to be a day he would remember for the rest of his life.

"Very well," said Hatshepsut. "Scribe?"

"Yes, Good Goddess?"

"You will interpret our words clearly and precisely. No ambiguities, understood?"

"Yes, Good Goddess."

"Scribe? One more thing. What is spoken here will forever remain in your heart and pass not over your lips. Not even in heaven will you repeat it."

"I understand perfectly, Great Daughter of Amen. I swear to you on the tomb of my father it will be so."

"Should you misinterpret or break your vow of silence, Scribe, you will be made to eat your own tongue." Hatshepsut uttered these last words with the same, even voice as if she were relating to him what she had eaten for breakfast. It was not a threat--even the scribe understood this. She was merely stating a fact.

Her business with the lowly vassal now done, the pharaoh turned her attention back to the statuesque woman standing across from her. "Would you care for some wine?" she asked.

The scribe heard her clearly but just to be on the safe side he oh so carefully advanced three full steps toward the wall of curtains.

"No thanks," said Xena. She had tried the local wine already and not found it much to her liking. On the other hand the Egyptian beer was bad at all. At any rate this was not the time for socializing.

She is all business, thought Hatshepsut. As I am. It was just as the pharaoh expected.

Hatshepsut turned away and leisurely strode over to a small table. There she picked up a small dagger and began to slowly trace her index finger back and forth over its blade. With her back still to Xena, she said, "I should like to hire you."

So that's it, thought Xena. Arching an eyebrow, she replied with but a quiet, "Ohhh?"

"Yes. Some say you are the greatest warrior in all the world. I think that it is so. Even as a girl I remember how my father, a great warrior himself, used to tighten his jaw and furrow his brow with worry at the very mention of your name. Xena, Destroyer of Nations!"

"That was a different time," said Xena, evenly.

"Even so, you are still that great warrior, are you not?"

"Yes," Xena answered. She knew Hatshepsut was not interested in modesty here. She wanted the truth.

"The best?"

Out of deference to her great friend Hercules she said, "If you're speaking solely of mortals, yes."

"Good." Turning around, Hatshepsut went on, "I have need of your services."

"I hardly think the greatest nation in the world needs me," said Xena, incredulously. "Besides," she added, "I'm not exactly a mercenary."

"You misunderstand," said Hatshepsut. "It is not my intent that you should fight for me in the literal sense. I have other need of your...talents."

"I'm listening," said Xena. As Gabrielle had suspected Xena, in spite of herself, found she was becoming interested in what the pharaoh had to say.

Slowly, deliberately, Hatshepsut began. "I assume that Neshi told you of my half-brother, Thutmose."

"Yes," Xena said. "Neshi spoke of him. He's supposed to be co-regent along with you." Xena paused for effect before adding, "At least in theory."

"Don't be so dense!" Hatshepsut lashed back in sharp rebuke. "He is co-regent! In theory and in fact."

Surprised by this unexpected outburst, Xena's own temper momentarily got the better of her and she shot back with a barb of her own. Her voice dripping with sarcasm, she smirked, "Oh yeah, he played such a prominent role at court today."

Hatshepsut glared icily at the warrioress but her voice remained even and well under control as she replied, "If you feel otherwise you are a fool. And I know the famed Warrior Princess is no fool. I will not deny that I have assumed most of the duties of office but that is only natural considering his tender age."

It was the closest thing to an apology Xena was going to get and she knew it. Her response was to close her eyes and give the pharaoh a subtle nod indicating that she understood.

"I am all too aware there are many foreigners who believe I have usurped the sacred Double Crown and shunted its rightful heir off into obscurity." Despite Hatshepsut's best efforts to project a composed image Xena still was able to detect a trace of bitterness in her voice. The pharaoh paused and took a deep breath and for the first time Xena saw in her something other than the iron-willed, all powerful overlord of the richest nation on the face of the earth. "Well they are wrong," said Hatshepsut, continuing. "Not only have I accorded the boy every honor and privilege due him, I have also never shirked my responsibility to ensure he is aggrandized in the manner which his title demands. He is a king, a god to his people, and has always been treated as such. No one can say otherwise and not lie. One day he will assume sovereignty of all Egypt and it is my sacred duty to make certain he is prepared."

Xena could readily see this was a definite sore spot for Hatshepsut. She wondered if it was not in part because there had been and maybe still was a measure of opposition by the elite in her own country to her assumption of the reins of power. As far as she was concerned she figured that she understood the elements of power better than anyone alive. No one knew better than her that no matter how strong and how forceful a ruler might be it was still vital that they have the support of others in powerful positions, if for no other reason than their own personal gain. Given Egypt's history and aversion to change, Xena would have been more shocked to learn there had not been dissension. "All right," she purred, "so you're not a wicked stepmother. What's all this got to do with me?"

Hatshepsut eyed her intently for a moment and then a faint smile of amusement played across her lips. "You are one who seeks to get to the heart of a matter quickly," she observed. "I admire that. Still, we Egyptians learn at a very early age the value of patience."

"Why waste your time and mine?" Xena retorted. "After all, you didn't have me come here just so that you could explain things now did you?"

"Very well then, I will tell you. But before I do I would like you to answer something for me."

"All right, if I can."

Hatshepsut's dark eyes searched deeply into Xena's as she asked "How old were you when you got your first taste of real power?"

For Xena the memory so long burned into her soul now came rushing back. For a fleeting moment she was once again that girl of barely eighteen. Once again she was resolutely mounting that rickety cart in that muddy street in Amphipolis in order to roar fiercely at the terrified friends and neighbors gathered around her that they would never be able to run far enough from that bastard Cortese. She still remembered the emotions boiling in her as she told them they must all band together and fight or they would all surely suffer torment, humiliation and death at his merciless hand. Even now she remembered how they had pressed in close to her and beseeched her to tell them what they should do. Even now.....

"I was eighteen," Xena softly replied.

"As was I," said Hatshepsut. She paused for a moment and, like Xena, allowed her mind to race back to the past; back to the night she had knelt at the bed of Thutmose II, her brother and her husband, and held his hand as, Anubis, god of death took him smiling into the Field of Reeds to spend eternity with Osiris. Up until that moment her whole life had been the very epitome of royal propriety. First, as dutiful daughter and later as "God's Great Wife" she had always faithfully done what had been expected of her.

Until that night.

"The young king was barely three years old when his father died," said Hatshepsut. "Obviously one so tender in years cannot rule so to prevent chaos in the land I it upon myself to shoulder the burden of government. As daughter, wife and sister to a king and also the ranking member of the royal house I had every right to do so. And so I did. Having done so it was only natural that I should assume a certain measure of primacy over a co-regent who was but a mere child."

"That still doesn't tell me where I fit into all this," Xena reminded her.

"The Great Nile has flooded nine times since my brother died," Hatshepsut told her. "The boy has now reached that stage in life where it is fitting and proper that he should stop his clinging to the hem of his tutors' robes and go forth unto his destiny. It is my duty to assure he is ready when his time comes. And so, in accordance with that I have decided that for his training he should learn from no less than the greatest of them all."

Xena did not need it sketched out for her. "You want me to train him to be a warrior, don't you?"

"That is only part of it," said Hatshepsut. Your primary task will be to teach him how to lead. You will make him unto yourself--a conqueror."

"With all due respect, that's dubious at best and borders on being down right ridiculous," said Xena. "A boy of twelve can barely hold his water much less the reins of an army."

"Cute," sniffed Hatshepsut. "However his age is unimportant. It is time he learns there is more to being a king than having servants his fawn over him."

"Well you can count me out," Xena flatly stated. "You want him taught how to invade other lands and slaughter other people then you'll have to get your own flunkies to do it."

"Agree and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams," said Hatshepsut, ignoring Xena's refusal.

"Not interested," said Xena, shaking her head.

"Five hundred talents of gold."


"One thousand."

"Forget it."

"Two thousand!"

"NO!" Xena sharply rejoined.

There now fell a deafening silence in the room and from his station outside the curtains the poor scribe experienced the curious sensation of having his mouth becoming very dry while simultaneously feeling his knees turn to water.

Xena too was left to wonder what would be the king's reaction to her adamant refusal. After all, this was woman used to having her own way. Quickly her nimble mind began to run down Hatshepsut's possible courses of action were and what her own response to any one of them was going to be. As might be expected the thing that concerned her most was not what might be aimed at her but rather what the implications would be for Gabrielle. Even though she was in the middle of a foreign land surrounded by potential enemies Xena did not give her own personal safety a second thought. She knew she could face and overcome any challenge to ensure her own survival. Gabrielle, however, was a very different matter. If indeed circumstances forced them to make an escape Xena did not relish the idea that she might have to lead her precious bard across the relentless, unforgiving desert whether the escape route be west to Wisa or east to the Red Sea. Unfortunately, as she saw it she really had no other recourse. To attempt to return the way they had come, via the Nile, would be much too dangerous. In the end, though, Xena knew it really did not matter. She would see Gabrielle safely out of Egypt one way or another even if it meant she had to carry her on foot every step of the way.

For a few tense moments the silence lengthened and the warrioress was still weighing her options when suddenly she became cognizant of something that evaporated any grim thoughts she was having. For there in Hatshepsut's eye she saw...something...not readily apparent, something barely perceptible, but detected by Xena's razor sharp senses nonetheless. There was a subtle glint in the pharaoh's eye that told Xena this woman had other, bigger fish to fry.

And so it was with a faint smile of triumph that Xena declared, "This is not about me training the boy at all, is it?"

Hatshepsut looked at her and tried to conceal her growing sense of admiration for this amazing woman but it was to no avail. No wonder she is unbeatable, the pharaoh thought. Not only is she a peerless fighter but...she can read minds as well!

Hatshepsut tossed the dagger back down onto the little table and in a dignified manner drew herself up to her full height. "You are very perceptive, warrioress," she said, stating the obvious. Here she paused for a moment. There was no doubt about it, this Greek woman was a magnificent specimen of the human race. To Hatshepsut's mind Xena seemed born to rule--as she had been. As a result she was beginning to feel an unmistakable affinity for with her. However she was a goddess, daughter of Amen, and as such did not wish to make such sentimentalities manifest. With as much impassivity as she could muster, Hatshepsut asked, "May I call you Xena?"

Xena, already sensing this subtle shift of attitude, replied, "Of course."

Hatshepsut responded with a polite nod of the head. "You are right," she admitted. "Although it is indeed time for Thutmose to begin his passage into manhood, that was not my true motive for summoning you here. In truth the offer of gold was a test."

"A test?"

"Yes. You see, upon his return to us Chancellor Neshi spoke in glowing terms of your character and your personal integrity. While I am usually in the habit of taking my trusted minister's words at face value this was one time I had to see for myself. Too much is at stake for me personally and I had to know for certain whether you are the woman they say you are."


A fleeting hint of amusement played across Hatshepsut's lips and she said, "Two thousand talents of gold is enough to buy one an entire kingdom. I must say I am very impressed. Had I been placed in a similar position I am not so certain that even I would have refused the offer. "

Arching an eyebrow, Xena wryly replied, "Well you know how it is." She then smoothed the palms of both hands downward across her leathers, "No pockets."

For the first time Hatshepsut's lips formed into a real smile albeit a somewhat stiff effort. "Quite so," she replied.

Outside the curtains the anxious scribe took a deep breath and, puffing his cheeks, quietly exhaled with great relief. To him it was beginning to look as though the Daughter of Amen's wrath would not be brought down on the arrogant Greek woman after all. To be sure he was as indifferent as ever regarding her ultimate fate but his real fear was that once provoked, the mighty pharaoh's anger might perhaps extend beyond this one called Xena and reach out to smite any and all who had been unfortunate enough to have been associated with her on this occasion. These thoughts were not so improbable as they might initially seem because he knew all too well that this very scenario had in fact happened before. She was, after all, pharaoh and had no qualms whatsoever about being utterly ruthless if it suited her needs. But not on this night. Strange, he thought. How very strange indeed!

"So what is it you really want from me?" Xena asked.

"Before I tell you you must swear by your most sacred of your oaths that until I set events in motion you will not repeat one word of what is spoken here," replied Hatshepsut.

"All right," said Xena. "I swear on the life of Gabrielle that what is said here will never pass my lips."

Hatshepsut eyed her quizzically. "Gabrielle? Is this one of your gods?"

In a way, thought Xena. However aloud all she said was, "No. Gabrielle is the young woman who was with me at court today."

"Oh. I see. Yes, I remember her. Fair skin, fair hair--an oddity here to be sure. I assumed she was your slave." Almost as an afterthought she added, "I was going to ask you if she was for sale."

"Gabrielle is my...." My love, my life, my rock, thought Xena. But again all she said aloud was, " friend." She paused here and then added, "I can offer you no more solemn oath than that."

"Very well," said Hatshepsut. And so it was that she finally got to the heart of the matter. "I was in earnest when I said I had need of your services."

"In what way?" Xena asked, suspiciously.

"I need advice," replied Hatshepsut. She looked hard and Xena and slowly added, "Your advice."

"Regarding what?"

"A matter of great importance to me," said Hatshepsut.

"Why should I help you?" Xena bluntly asked her.

"It is not enough that the Pharaoh of Egypt asks you?" retorted Hatshepsut. "I could offer to pay you but you have already demonstrated you are not interested in money." The Egyptian looked hard at her and added "Or are you? Are you still the unscrupulous, opportunistic woman you once were? Was Neshi wrong? Was I wrong?" Not bothering to mask her bitterness, she went on, "I had rather hoped that you, of all people, would be willing to help show the world what a female ruler can do; that she can wield power just as effectively and be just as bold, as decisive as a man. Would you rather I be remembered as an amusing aberration, as a mere caretaker? Is that how you want posterity to view a woman of power? A woman who has worked tirelessly for the advancement of her people? If it is mere money you want, name your price. I will gladly pay it if it will ensure the success of my plan."

Still not entirely convinced, Xena's azure eyes bored in hard on the Egyptian. "You can speak in glowing terms about proving the ability of women to rule all you want, but it still sounds to me like you're just out to glorify yourself."

Hatshepsut was not accustomed to such candidness. As calmly as she could she replied, "If that is what you choose to believe you haven't really learned anything, have you?" Hatshepsut smiled ruefully and said, "No, I don't believe that. You are much too bright for that. Xena, I have a daughter, her name is Neferure. I do not want her to grow up and simply be the dutiful King's Wife of some clod with a fraction of her abilities. I want her to rule! But more than that I want those women of succeeding follow generation to have the chance to rule as well. But for that to happen I must succeed here--now. My plan will help ensure that.

Eyeing her counterpart just as intently, Hatshepsut saw her stern countenance soften if only just a little. "All right," Xena said, after a moment. "How can I help?"

Hatshepsut flashed her a pleased little smile and said, " Good. Good. First let me provide you with some background. This is the ninth year of my reign," she said. Despite the pharaoh's earlier protests to the contrary, the significance of the singular "my" versus the plural "our" was not lost on Xena. "In that span I have accomplished much for my people. As I have worked to lift their standard of living so too have I sought to raise their enlightenment as well. I have commissioned thousands of artists and architects alike to create great works in order that the people might behold them and know that the all powerful Amen has remembered them in his heart.

I have shown them that Egypt is strong, vibrant and alive. During this time, except for a minor rebellion in Nubia, the country has known the sweet joy of peace. I have maintained the army in full readiness and our national security is unquestioned. No one dare attack us. Our trade levels are at an all time high and we are now more prosperous than at any time in our illustrious history. Also, I have ruthlessly eliminated government corruption wherever it was found and I done much to strengthen even more the timeless bonds between the Red and Black Lands."

As Hatshepsut ticked off these truly lofty achievements one by one, Xena could not help but notice there was still a trace of bitterness in her voice. This was what necessitated her to comment, "And yet in public you still have to wear male clothing and a false beard in order to conform to your ahh, what's the word? Maat?"

Hatshepsut shot her a surprised glance and said, "So you understand the word. Yes, what you say is true. Even though the people are made to bow and work for me, even though the nobles cower before me, even though the priests are unceasing in their praise for me--still must I maintain this nettlesome charade. I am Hatshepsut, Mistress of the Two Lands and yet even I am made to bend my knee before the unyielding lord that is tradition."

Although Xena did not much care for the pharaoh's callous remark regarding the status of her ordinary subjects, she knew that, apart from attempting to influence her as best she could to be more compassionate, there really was not much she could do to change things. In Egypt the pharaoh owned everything, including the people, and to a large extent they were looked upon by the monarch as simply another natural resource to be exploited. Hatshepsut's flowery words about uplifting her people's spirits were of course not applicable to the common citizen and Xena recognized that it was beyond even her enormous talents to change that. Of course she was aware that Gabrielle would be appalled if she knew what her warrior was thinking but experience had taught Xena long ago that sometimes, no matter how distasteful, there were those times when one simply had to face facts. This was one of those occasions. She could now refuse and go home or she could stay and help this strong woman. Xena chose to stay.

"Why?" asked Xena. "You're the king. I would think you could set your own tradition."

"If only it were so easy," Hatshepsut wistfully replied. "As much as I would like to even I cannot simply ignore what has been established over fifteen centuries. Above all else we Egyptians believe in continuity. Consequently we abhor chaos. Order, the appropriate and necessary arrangement of the universe and our place in it--this is at the core of maat."

From there it was no great chore for Xena to gallop home to the finish line. "And where there is no order there is no maat."

"Precisely," said Hatshepsut, approvingly. "And such a state of affairs is to be avoided like the pit of what the Hebrews refer to as Hell."

"Well from what I've seen I would say that hardly seems to apply here," Xena wryly observed. "Everything looks pretty calm and orderly to me."

"True enough," said Hatshepsut. "I have striven mightily to build upon the work of my most noble father. However the simple fear my people have for disorder and chaos may under the right conditions be a dangerous weapon that certain devious persons might seek to use against me."

And so there it was. Xena's earlier suspicions were indeed now confirmed. Evidently Hatshepsut did indeed not have the complete support of the Egyptians nobles. Uhh huhh, she thought. Now we're getting somewhere! "So you do have opposition then?" she asked. "From whom?"

"From traitors!" Hatshepsut hissed. Clenching her fists she heatedly added, "I have not been able to determine as of yet who they are but when I do..." Here her words trailed off and for a moment while she gleefully focused her thoughts on the many and varied ways she would administer her sweet retribution on those foolish individuals who would dare to oppose her. If only she knew who they were.....

Snapping out of her momentary reverie, she said, "It should come as no surprise to you of all people that not everyone is predisposed to accept orders from a woman." She then spat angrily on the floor. "I despise them! Cowards! They are as pathetic little mice who scurry to their holes in the presence of the lioness. They are as little nothings yet they vex me with their vile whisperings."

"I've never known a king yet that didn't have opposition," said Xena.

With a scornful sneer Hatshepsut barked, "I will not have my authority questioned!" Calming down somewhat, she added, "With their despicable mouse-like voices they, they...squeak words of treason and heresy. Like the vermin they are they scuttle about at night, averse to standing in the open light of day and preferring to drag their tails along the floors of the temples and perhaps even my own palace. They gnaw ever so feebly at the stout timbers of my rightful sovereignty with their perfidious insinuations that our sacred maat has been violated by the ascension of a female to the throne."

"Surely you're not the first woman to rule Egypt," said Xena.

"As a matter of fact, no," replied the pharaoh. "The chronicles speak of a woman named Sobeknofru." With a faint smile of amusement she added, "You might be interested to know that she was even referred to by some as the 'Warrior Queen.'"

"Then where's the problem if there has been precedence for a woman ruling Egypt?" asked Xena.

"The 'problem,'" said Hatshepsut, "is that during her reign Sobeknofru never sought to be recognized formally as anything other than what you would call a queen-regnant. Also, her rule came at the end of a fading dynasty and is by all accounts considered not very successful. Therefore the conservatives are more inclined to be lenient, going so far as to magnanimously dub it a..." Here she paused and emitted a contemptuous snort before going on to finish the sentence, "...brave failure.' To them it merely reinforces their espoused falsehood that a female is unfit to rule. I am pharaoh, not a transitional custodian to some dying royal house."

As Hatshepsut spoke Xena ever so briefly allowed her mind to wander upon warm speculation as to what her little bard was doing as this moment. Had she been able to see Gabrielle she would have been very much amused for at this very moment she was standing up on the retaining wall, arms to the heavens, joyfully caught up in the sweet ecstasy of Davidicus and Leisa's tearful reconciliation as two of the palace servants curiously looked on from a respectful distance.

However this lasted but a moment and Xena, having now already correctly deduced Hatshepsut's intentions, said, "And so now you want to do something to prove your abilities once and for all, right?"

Once again Hatshepsut was astounded by Xena's seemingly limitless capacity for incisive ratiocination. "Surely you have the ear of Mut," she softly replied. Before continuing she walked over to her bed and sat down upon the edge of it. Sweeping her arm toward the exquisite chair situated next to the bed, she said, "Please, sit down."

"All right," said Xena, deciding to humor her, and so she strolled over to the chair and sat down.

"As I said before, Warrioress," Hatshepsut began, now once again fully in control of her emotions, "it is indeed my intention to once and for all put to rest this, this...inane drivel that a woman is incapable of accomplishing great things, historic things. You yourself are crowning proof of that we are capable of greatness."

It was obvious Hatshepsut had studied Xena's history and therefore hardly needed reminding that in order to achieve most of her "historic" deeds it had been necessary to order the slaughter of countless thousands. Naturally any such enterprise that Hatshepsut might now have in mind which even remotely reeked of the stench of war would simply be out of the question for Xena. Not that she was any less averse to it or any less aggressive than she had ever been--far from it. What had changed, however, was the conditions under which she was willing to utilize those legendary martial skills which had made her "The Destroyer of Nations."

Under no circumstances would she assent to having a hand in any form of unprovoked aggression. The perfect example of her present day philosophy was last year's bloody war in south-central Greece in which the Aetolians and the Army of the Five Tribes had grappled with each other in a ferocious embrace of Death. It was true enough that Xena had assumed command of the huge Aetolian army and consequently had ruthlessly waged a brilliant campaign which culminated in the utter defeat of the enemy. And yes, it was also true enough that when the war was over tens of thousands lay dead on three separate battlefields. There was no denying that. The one, vital difference was that in conducting operations this time her military genius had been devoted to defending a kingdom and not to brutally crushing it under the heel of her boot.

Xena knew Egypt's power and since Hatshepsut herself had made it clear her country's national security was not an issue, this effectively ruled out possibility of participation in any sort of military action whatsoever on her part. She was also naturally quite prepared to tell Hatshepsut so in no uncertain terms--regardless of how the pharaoh might feel about it.

Fortunately for all concerned what Hatshepsut had in mind for her "historic thing" did not entail the use of naked aggression or the pursuit of military glory. "I would like to do something to raise the consciousness of my people," said Hatshepsut. "I want to demonstrate the skill and the firmness of my hand in guiding the ship of state." Eyeing Xena with a faint smile, she quickly added, "Of course, it is not in my heart that I should go to war with my neighbors in order to accomplish this. Rather, I would prefer a less drastic measure be taken to capture the imagination of the people. Something epic, something...heroic."

Here she paused and poured herself a cup of the wine which Xena had previously turned down. As she did she again offered it to Xena and again the warrioress politely declined. "To that end," she continued, after a sip, "I have come to the conclusion that it is through a great trading mission that I can best achieve positive results." She leaned forward and intently gazed into Xena's eyes. "I would be most grateful for your help in seeing this to fruition." Having presented her case so well, Hatshepsut now sat back and waited for a definitive answer. It was not long in coming.

"All right," Xena said. "You have my help." And there it was, plain and simple.

"What I have in mind," said Hatshepsut, "is something that can be accomplished relatively quickly and also with a minimum of risk."

"That ought to be simple enough," observed Xena.

"Not so easy as one might think," Hatshepsut corrected her. "We already dominate the entire region politically, economically, and yes, militarily as well. Accordingly, anything that pertains to this immediate region is not likely to make much of an impression since it already falls within our sphere of influence. Because of this a mission overland would not seem to fit within the desired time parameters. I must tell you I do not relish us attempting a sea voyage. We are not Phoenicians."

"So where do you want to go?" asked Xena.

"That," said Hatshepsut, taking another sip of the wine, "is where you come in."


"Yes. It is my understanding that you have traveled most of the known world." Hatshepsut then paused and with an enigmatic little smile added, "Perhaps even to a few places where the world is not so well known. Places where no other mortal has returned from alive."

"You could say that," Xena coolly replied.

"Good," said Hatshepsut, clearly pleased by Xena's casual confirmation. "So tell me, if...if you were...contemplating such an undertaking where would you go--again taking into account certain time constraints." Here marked the first clear sign of indecision on the part of the pharaoh that Xena had seen. So the "lioness" is human after all, she thought.

Immediately Xena's brilliant mind set to work weighing the various possibilities. As might be expected the first place that came to her was the distant land of Chin. It might not be as exotic or mysterious as India but it was close. It was also far more advanced as a unified society not to mention infinitely richer. It was also very, very far away meaning a mission perhaps lasting as long as a year. Hatshepsut had left Xena with the definite impression that she was looking for results a little more...immediate. That ruled out India as well. Persia? >From what she understood Egypt and Persia were already trading partners on at least a semi-regular basis. Where then? Britannia? Too poor. Certainly not Greece. Traders from Xena's homeland had been crossing the Mediterranean southward to the land of the Nile for centuries. Likewise the Phoenicians, Etruscans and Iberians all had long navigated well established sea lanes to Egypt. Where then?

Then, like a flash of lightning, it came to her. "Punt," she abruptly answered.

"Punt?" Hatshepsut echoed with some incredulity.

"Why not?" Xena wondered aloud. "It's relatively close and it's certainly exotic enough."

Hatshepsut shook her head in disagreement. "We have been there before. In fact expeditions went there during the reigns of at least three different kings. I desire to establish a more...original contact."

"Come ooon," countered Xena. "You haven't been there for centuries."

"You amaze me with your knowledge of our history," Hatshepsut quietly remarked.

Xena could have said it had once been her business to know the history of lands she intended to conquer but instead she prudently answered, "I've managed to pick up a few things in the last twelve years."

"What you propose has several obstacles," said Hatshepsut. "Chief among them is again the fact that we are not a sea faring people. It is one thing to ply the Nile in barges, it is quite another to venture out into the treacherous open waters of a great sea."

"You've done it before," Xena reminded her.

"The risk is too great," retorted Hatshepsut.

"There's no open sea navigation involved here," Xena reminded her. "All you'd have to do is follow the coast line south. Then when the wind shifts you could sail back. There's nothing to it and I'm sure you have any number of competent men who could do it."

"But the ships," countered Hatshepsut. "The only suitable port on this side of the Red Sea is at Quseir and the harbor facilities there are woefully inadequate. Timber for ships would have to be transported over great distances. Even if we could make the trip it would take many months to outfit a fleet there for sailing."

"So how many ships are we talking about here?"

"I should think six would be a sufficient number," the pharaoh replied.

Xena flashed her a little grin and said, "Suppose I were to tell you that I can build your fleet and have it ready to sail from Quseir inside of two moons."

Hatshepsut gaped for a moment at the Greek beauty as if she had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "I would say you are either mad, a genius--or both."

"Well maybe we're both a little mad," said Xena, wryly.

Hatshepsut's lips form a faint smile and she said, "Maybe we are."

Outside the scribe stood translating this exchange with profound amazement. No one spoke to the Daughter of Amen that way and lived!

The smile faded and in tones as hopeful as her bearing would allow Hatshepsut asked, "You can do this?"

"I can," said Xena. "Assuming of course money is no object and I have enough manpower."

The pharaoh emitted a soft, mirthless chuckle and said, "I assure you that you will lack for neither. Tomorrow I will personally instruct Chief Treasurer Djehuty, to co-operate with you in every way. You can write your own bill. As for the workers..."

"As for the workers," Xena interjected, "I want it plainly understood right now. No slaves, no prisoners of war, no convicts, no forced labor of any kind. And I also want the best tradesmen and labors you've got."

"Is that all?" Hatshepsut asked, clearly amused.

"No it's not," said Xena. "The men that build my ships will be treated with decency and respect. Otherwise it's no soap."

"Your ships?"

"Until they're finished and I hand them over to you they are my ships," said Xena, firmly.

Outside the puzzled scribe wondered, Why does the Goddess permit such insolence?

However Hatshepsut's sole response was to absently take another sip of her wine. "Punt, you say. I must admit the idea intrigues me. It indeed has been a very long time since an Egyptian king went there. Punt," she again uttered, under her breath. It was as if she were using the simple pronunciation of the fabled name as a way of making up her mind. After a moment's reflection she quietly said, "I think you are right. It will be Punt."

Her sense of excitement was beginning to build now and the thought that her dream might just possibly become reality was such that for a fleeting moment she dropped the aura of royalty. She leaned over and placed her hand on Xena's wrist. To the warrioress it felt warm and very delicate. In a voice so soft the straining scribe outside could barely hear, she said, "Xena, you do this for me and I will give you anything you want...anything!"

Xena coolly glanced down at the hand on her wrist. Hatshepsut, remembering herself, quickly released her soft grip and with some embarrassment withdrew her hand. Much to her surprise and apprehension, the pharaoh found she was becoming attracted to this exquisite figure of a woman. As king and god she had no shortage of handsome young courtiers and she had never been reluctant in making use of their "services." But never a woman. For Hatshepsut, who was as pragmatic as anyone in Egypt, there was no denying it. The more she looked upon this tall, muscular, beautiful woman, the more she felt something stirring within her. Maybe, she thought, the "anything" really did mean anything!

Looking at her face, Xena read it all. Her voice very deliberate she said, " There is nothing in Egypt I want," and hoped Hatshepsut caught the double meaning of it.

The Daughter of Amen had not maneuvered herself into possession of the fabled Double Crown of Egypt by being a fool. She caught Xena's undertone well enough. However she knew even the great, silent pyramids changed over time.

It was then that a thought came to Xena. "Well," she said, mercifully breaking the uncomfortable silence, "there is one thing."

"Name it."

"Let me build the ships first," said Xena. "Then we'll talk about it."

Hatshepsut knew she ought to have been annoyed by Xena's coyness but she just...couldn't. "Very well," she replied extending her hand, "when the ships are built. You have my word."

"Okay," said Xena, taking the hand, we have a deal then."

The two women were in the process of shaking hands over their agreement when from outside the curtains they heard first a new voice--sharp, commanding--then the higher pitched, pleading cries of the scribe. This was followed hard by a sharp crack and an unmistakable cry of pain from the scribe. Hatshepsut shot to her feet, beaten in this only by the wink of an eye by Xena who now instinctively placed herself between Hatshepsut and the disturbance.

Quickly the warrioress strode to the entrance. As she thrust the curtains apart she heard another sharp crack. Outside she saw a man, tall and thin with a face marked by wrinkles, standing over the whimpering scribe who was on the floor desperately trying to cover himself with hands. In the man's hand was one of those flails Xena had seen pictured so often in Egyptian artwork. He raised his hand again and as he poised to once more strike the poor scribe he felt something seize his wrist. The force seemed to be like that of the jaws of a crocodile. Crying out it pain, he turned and saw the same strange woman that had been at court earlier that day.

"I wouldn't," Xena snarled. Her anger was still smoldering at the moment but fast approaching the point where she would no longer care about something so trivial as a language barrier. After all, pain was a universal language and no one was more fluent in it than the Warrior Princess. Although she had once been its most artful practitioner, nothing provoked Xena faster now than witnessing the strong victimize the weak.

"Senenmut!" Hatshepsut barked out. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" She sought out and made visual contact with Xena, turning her hand over in a palms up gesture that indicated she should release the man. Xena complied but not before giving him a sharp little shove in the back for good measure.

Rubbing his throbbing wrist, Senenmut glared at Xena for a moment and then, pointing at Ankarad, rasped out, "This perverted wretch has dared to defile your chambers with his filthy presence! I caught him right here--right by your very person."

"Don't be a fool," said Hatshepsut in sharp rebuke. "He was there because I commanded it."

"Are you all right?" Xena asked, kneeling down to the scribe.

The unfortunate fellow nodded stiffly that he was but Xena could see he was still very shaken by the attack. "Come on," she softly coaxed. She then slipped her forearm under his armpit and effortlessly hoisted him to his feet.

"But I--"

Her anger rising, Hatshepsut caustically cut Senenmut off. "The scribe was here because I bade him to come and that is all you need to know."

Properly chastised, Senenmut meekly acknowledged, "I am in error. Please forgive me, Great Goddess."

Ignoring him, Hatshepsut abruptly turned to Xena and said, "We will discuss this further tomorrow. You will--" She paused and what she said next astounded both the exalted Senenmut and the lowly scribe. "That is to say--can you come again tomorrow. Same time?"

Senenmut was aghast. It was simply inconceivable for a pharaoh, God/King of all Egypt, to ask for anything!

"I'll be here," Xena assured her.

"Good. I am pleased then. Now it has been a long day and I am tired. Leave me, all of you."


It was Senenmut again and again he was forcefully cut off. "All of you!" Hatshepsut sharply repeated as she glared at him.

"As you wish, Great Pharaoh," and he respectfully bowed his head.

To Xena there was an obvious look of disappointment on his face. It was a plain as Gabrielle's pyramids back in Giza. Hatshepsut's rebuke had been acerbic enough but still it left the warrioress with the suspicion that this man might be more than just another minister. She rather doubted that it was the king's habit to conduct affairs of state in her own bedroom. Other affairs...maybe.

Just as the three of them turned to leave Xena heard Hatshepsut call her name once more. "Yes?" she answered.

Senenmut stopped as well, turning back hopefully to face his pharaoh but one withering glance from her was all it took to convince him that any further delay in his departure would not be in his best interests. "I will send for you when I want you," she curtly told him.

The scribe, familiar with the machinations of the court, decided to let this pass without interpretation. Senenmut nodded stiffly and took his leave.

Watching him depart, Hatshepsut idly remarked, "A very useful vassal. Sometimes, though, he forgets his place." Having already dismissed him from her presence, she now expunged him from her thoughts as well and focused in once more on the fascinating "Destroyer of Nations."

"I have changed my mind," she said. "Instead of waiting until dusk can you come tomorrow morning? Before court?"

"If you like," said Xena.

"You may call me Hatshepsut if you like," said the pharaoh. "I am eager to hear how your plan to perform this miracle of shipbuilding."

"It's no miracle," said Xena. "Just something I learned back in my sailing days."

"I must admit I am becoming excited by this," said Hatshepsut, in a voice low and husky. "Still, even exciting things must wait their turn. You are an extraordinary woman, Xena. I look forward to getting to know you better." She turned her nose slightly up in the air and said, "Tomorrow morning."

Naturally Xena took this as her cue and so again she turned to go.

"And next time bring your little friend," said Hatshepsut. "I wish to meet the one whom the mighty Warrior Princess loves so." Startled by this, Xena stopped and turned back. She then saw the pharaoh break into a triumphant little smile. "You see, Xena," she purred, "I too am perceptive."

Xena said nothing and without another word Hatshepsut slipped through the slit in her curtains and disappeared.

"Well," Xena muttered, under her breath, "that was interesting."

In awe of the occasion the scribe said, "I shall remember this night for all the days of my life." He smiled sheepishly at Xena and said, "Thank you for coming to my defense."

"Don't mention it," said Xena, tersely. She looked him over for a moment and then asked "Just what is your name anyway?"

"Ankarad, Great Warrioress."

"Cut that foolishness out," said Xena, chiding him. "My name is Xena."

"But I heard with my own are now a favored one of the king. Therefore I must show you the proper respect."

Xena folded her arms and looked sternly at the scribe. "You heard what I said." Letting her voice trail off for effect she added, "Otherwise, if you think Senenmut was bad...."

With great reluctance Ankarad said, "Very well...Xena."

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

How very strange she is! he thought. How utterly unpretentious for one so renowned. Like the servant woman before him, Ankarad respectfully backed his way out of the room. He and Xena exited to the dimly lit anteroom where they encountered this same dour woman. Apparently she had been waiting there the entire time. As soon as she saw the two of them she arose from the divan and without a work re-entered the bedroom of her mistress.

"So, what do you normally do around here?" Xena asked, as she and the scribe stepped once more into the great, treasure-filled hall.

Ankarad put his hands together and with a rueful voice replied, "Nothing very important, I assure you. Primarily I copy routine documents but I am also granted the privilege of performing all sorts of other, just as menial tasks."

"Sounds boring," said Xena, making a face.

"To be sure," Ankarad said with a chuckle. "You know, sometimes I dream of journeying down the great Nile to the sea. There I might find work on a trading ship. Imagine, being able to travel to strange lands, meet other peoples! You said you used to sail, Xena, so tell it exciting? Is it a good life? Do you think I could do it?"

Xena took one look at his delicate hands, his thin shoulders and slight build and knew he would not last a day as a sailor. Having no wish to hurt his feelings or give him any false hopes she answered him as tactfully as she could. "Working on a ship is tough business," she began. "It's not glamorous, it's hard. The work is very rigorous, the water bad, and a lot of the time the food is barely fit to eat. A ship is filled with potential dangers. One misstep on a slick deck in a storm or one slip while up in the rigging and you're a dead man." With a kindly smile she squeezed his shoulder with her strong hand and said, "I haven't even gotten to those twenty cubit oars yet."

"Oh. I see. I had no idea it was such a hard life. I guess I should have known."

"It's not for everybody," Xena gently concurred. In spite of her discouragement she understood his yearning for adventure. It was something that had been part of her all her life. When she was nine she coerced her baby brother into joining her in a raid--her very first--on their neighbor's apple tree. When she was twelve she kissed her first boy--a very great adventure! At fourteen to win a bet two friends watched while she stole her way into a temple in nearby Mycinion and created an uproar by leaving behind the bust of Hermes turned upside down on its head. At sixteen she became the first person to survive the dive into the River Strymon from off the sixty cubit promontory appropriately known as "Death Rock."

Two short years later she won her first battle.

"Still, I like boats," said Ankarad. "I always have. I like being around them."

"You do, huh?" Maybe we can put that to good use, thought Xena. "You say you copy things. Does that mean drawings as well?"


"Yeah, technical stuff like layouts, floor plans, that sort of thing."

"Certainly," he replied. With a measure of pride he went on, "When the Chief Architect built the last addition to the Temple of Amen it was I who was entrusted by the overseers with producing additional copies."

"Chief Architect?"

"Yes, he is in charge of all major construction."

"Not all of it," Xena corrected him. "But as long as he stays out of my way we'll get along just fine. Still, I guess I should have a talk with him."

"You already have," said Ankarad.

Instantly Xena caught his meaning. "Don't tell me..."

"I am afraid so," he said. "The Chief Architect is none other than Senenmut himself."

Just what I need, thought Xena.

Chapter 7
For a time the scribe and the warrioress in silence negotiated the maze of corridors that led back out to the courtyard. Finally Xena asked "Where did you learn Greek?"

"It was my father's doing," he said. "He didn't want me to end up in the quarry like him so he somehow scraped together money to hire a tutor for me. The money soon ran out but the tutor thought me gifted enough that he kept me on all the same. It was under him I learned to write. He also taught me mathematics, a little astronomy, and yes, how to speak Greek."

"Your father was a wise man," said Xena.

At last reaching the door leading to the outside, Ankarad it pushed open. As he did Xena felt the cool breeze brush across her cheek. "Thank you again, Xena, for your intervention," he said. "I am most grateful. Good-bye."

"I wouldn't say that just yet," said Xena, smiling faintly. "Remember, I'm still going to need an interpreter."

With a polite bow he replied, "I will be honored to assist you in any way I can. And now I must bid you good night." And with that the barefoot Ankarad slipped away into the darkness.


Xena found her just where she had left her; sitting alone now on the stone wall, her lithe figure silhouetted by the faint glow of light from distant Thebes. Gabrielle had worked her story out some time ago and the curious servants, having lost interest in her, had long since returned to their duties. Since then the bard had been content to quietly sit there on her perch and watch as one by one the little yellow points of light winked and flickered to life all across the city.

Idly lost in thought with her back to the palace, she did not hear Xena as she approached cat-like in the darkness. For a moment Xena stood there, silently watching her from a mere five paces away. There, in the darkness, Gabrielle seemed so small!

Gabrielle sneezed and from behind Xena smiled warmly as she saw her vigorously rub her nose with the back of her hand. Gabrielle always did that after sneezing and it was just one more little reminder of what was really important in this world. For all the gods, kings, pharaohs, ships filled with gold--all the armies of the earth were not worth one lock of hair off the head of this loving soul, this Gods, Gabrielle! I do love you so!

Not wishing to startle her bard, Xena loudly scraped the sole of her boot across the paving stones.

"Xena!" Gabrielle whipped her lissome frame around and hopped down off the low wall.

"Gabrielle, you'd make a terrible sentry," Xena dryly observed.

Ignoring this, Gabrielle eagerly prodded, "What did you talk about? Is it something big like you thought?"

"It's big all right," said Xena.

"So what is it?"

"You'd never guess in a million years," said Xena, playfully stalling.

"I don't want to guess," said Gabrielle, emphatically. "Tell me!"

"You're not going to believe it," Xena teasingly replied.

Gabrielle, however, was not about to brook any further delay. She whacked Xena's muscular biceps hard with the back of her hand and growled, "Tell me!" However the bard forgot this was no ordinary female arm. Immediately her hand buzzed with a burning, tingling sensation; then numbness. "Owww!" she yelped, as she covered up her stinging hand with her good one. Had Gabrielle been able to distinctly see Xena's face she would have seen those same arched eyebrows and that same look of amusement she had so often seen before.

"Haven't you learned better by now?" Xena drawled.

"I guess not," the bard whimpered. She then held the offending hand out and shook it vigorously. Fortunately for her the numbness began to fade soon enough.

Although she would never admit it Xena always liked it when her bard displayed this kind of fire. She admired Gabrielle's grit and courage so much and her feeling was that it was good for her to be able to vent like this now and again.

Very casually Xena said, "We've got a job."

"A job? What kind of job?"

"You and I are going into the shipbuilding business," said Xena.

"We are? Really?"

"Yep. The pharaoh wants six ships ready for sailing from the port of Quseir within two moons."

"And she wants you to build them? Can you do it?" Already in the bard's psyche she had unflinchingly adopted Xena's new course of action as her own.

"Can we do it?" Xena pointedly corrected her.

In the darkness Gabrielle grinned and said, "All right, can we do it?"

"If they stay out of our way we can," replied Xena. "Hatshepsut says we can write our own bill."

"What does she want them for?" asked Gabrielle.

"A trading mission to Punt," said Xena.

"Punt? You mean there actually is such a place?" Gabrielle asked. "I always thought it was just a mythical place."

"It's real all right," said Xena, turning toward the steps. Gabrielle in kind turned with her and together the two of them crossed over the huge paving stones and down the long flight of steps.

As they neared the bottom Gabrielle asked "What made you change your mind?"

"Let's just say it's a solidarity thing."


"Never mind, Gabrielle," said Xena, gently.

"All right then, be cryptic if you want," said Gabrielle, feigning nonchalance. "But then, maybe you tell me this much, Miss Shipwright."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Just where are we sleeping tonight?"

A good question, she thought. With a shrug of resignation she turned to the bard and said, "Damned if I know."  

Coyly Hatshepsut smiled and brushed away the hand fondling her breast. "Really, Senenmut," she purred, "you should not take these things so personally." Pulling herself away from his arms, she coolly strolled across her bedroom to the plush divan.

"I do not understand why you felt it necessary to obtain the services of that, that..." He almost said "woman" but caught his tongue at the last instant. Instead he finished his sentence with a disdainful "Greek."

Easing herself down on the divan, Hatshepsut's perceptive ear caught the near gaffe but fortunately for her libidinous servant she was not in a reproachful mood. Indeed her mind at the moment was one of a far different inclination as she leisurely lowered her lean, naked body down into a reclining a position. "Senenmut," she sighed, Your eyes see, your ears hear, yet your ka recognizes nothing. Are you that incognizant?"

"My soul has nothing to do with it," replied Senenmut, as firmly as he dared. "All I know is for some mysterious reason my king has chosen to believe the boastful lies of a foreigner."

Quickly then he strode over and resolutely sat himself down on the floor beside the divan. "Remember this woman's history," he entreated. "She is a barbarian, a...demon!"

"She is gifted beyond words," said Hatshepsut.

"She is a murderer of untold thousands."

"I have studied her too, Senenmut. She is a genius."

With a trace of sarcasm he asked "Has this genius explained to you just how she will accomplish this miracle? It would take two moons just to cut and transport the necessary timbers overland to Quseir."

"She has assured me it can be done."

"She will seek to destroy you; perhaps even our entire civilization."

Placing emphasis on each and every word, Hatshepsut said, "She will build my ships." Hatshepsut turned on her side and propped her head up on her elbow. Her voice softening, she asked "Senenmut, are you blind? Do you not see the hand of Amen here?"

Leaning forward, Senenmut lightly kissed the fingers of the pharaoh's left hand. "I only see the hand of my king," he softly answered.

Hatshepsut, however, would not allow herself to be so easily placated. "Then you are a fool. Think on it. Insignificant Cyprus sends us envoys, one of whom just happens to be the legendary Warrior Princess. What was she doing there? Cyprus is a land that she ordinarily would not dirty her fingernails over. What prompted their king to ask her here in the first place? Why did she agree? Then, on the way here she chooses to stop in a simple farming village whereby she is afforded the opportunity to save Neshi's life. Do you not find these things strange?"

"They are merely coincidences," said Senenmut, unconvinced.

Slightly incensed by his stubbornness, Hatshepsut firmly countered, "It is divine intervention. Amen has always favored me. Now he has graciously provided me with the instrument by which my defining moment, my crowning achievement will be attained. I will sweep those worms who would dare oppose me upon the dung pile of oblivion." Boring her intense dark eyes into his, she repeated, "Xena will build my ships."

Knowing her as he did, Senenmut understood it would now be extremely unwise to carry the discussion any further. Yes it was true she favored him above all others but when his king was provoked even he was not immune to her anger.

Deflated, he meekly replied, "Yes, Great Lord."

Pleased by his deference, Hatshepsut's method of rewarding his obedience was to patronize him. Pushing out her lower lip in a pout, she said, "Do not worry, Senenmut. I will see to it you receive recognition for this project in some manner."

It was small comfort the man known as the "Greatest of the Great."

"But enough of Greeks, and gods and ships," she suddenly said. Sitting up, she slid her hips to the edge of the divan.

It took no great scholar to understand what she wanted now so Senenmut obediently knelt before her and bent forward. His pharaoh nimbly set her heels upon his shoulders and spread her knees wide apart. Staring down at her glistening vulva, he thought, By all the gods in heaven! There is none so beautiful as she!

Her voice low and husky, Hatshepsut said, "Nothing I desire will be denied me, slave." Placing the two middle fingers of her right hand to the back of his head, she then regally pulled the head of the obsequious man down between her thighs. As his tongue found its royal mark she repeated with a lascivious purr, "Nothing."  

At precisely the same moment, barely three stadiums distance away, Gabrielle lay lurching and quaking in ecstasy. The mission completed, her warrior raised her head up from between those taut thighs she loved to tease with her tongue.

"Gods, Xena! the bard gasped. "How do you do that?" Four and a half years now and still Gabrielle was continually amazed and awed by how talented and versatile Xena's lips and tongue were.

Xena slowly, salaciously licked her lips and said, "Gabrielle, I have many skills."

"Mmmmm, don't I know it," the bard dreamily replied.

Rising to her knees, Xena sat back on her heels and with a wanton smile forcefully plunged her long middle finger deep within her bard's drenched crotch. Gabrielle responded by whimpering a soft "Ohhhh" as she bucked up her hips in pleasure.

After a small amount of deliberation, the two of them had chosen to spend the night here in this rather comfortable inn situated on one of the city's main thoroughfares. Xena knew Neshi undoubtedly would have been more than happy to again provide lodging for them and in fact he had expected them back. However Xena's choice was based more on convenience than anything else. Neshi's grand home lay all the way across on the south side of Thebes and to her it made little sense to trudge all the way over there only to have to return right back here in the morning. For some reason this made her think of her beloved Argo.

Fortunately this place had been handy; they had money and that was that.

Slowly Xena began to extract her finger from her lover's vagina. Gabrielle, reluctant to give up the sweet digit, lifted her pelvis up off the bed in order to follow it. Unfortunately her hips could only go so far and all too soon Xena's finger was free. Lying below her, Gabrielle saw Xena delicately insert the finger into her mouth, her lips reaching all the way to the hand. Slowly then the warrioress pulled the finger back out, her cheeks sunken as she sucked hard on it.

Enraptured by this, Gabrielle softly cried, "By the gods, Xena, you are sooooo beautiful!"

Xena's only answer was a brilliant smile as she bent her broad, powerful shoulders low over her precious bard.

Her chest heaving with renewed excitement over this magnificent creature, Gabrielle again spoke. This time her voice was but a breathless whisper. "Ohh, Xena, I love you so!"

Those full lips Gabrielle adored parted and just before they pressed down upon her own she heard a soft, "Shhhh." For the first time in almost a moon the two lovers were completely free to once again explore every last inch of each other's body. For the two of them the night was only the beginning.


The stoic palace guardsman pushed open the door and with a curt nod indicated that the warrioress and the bard had at last reached their destination. He, not Ankarad, had served as their guide this morning through the palace maze leaving Xena to wonder if Senenmut had not seen to it that further punishment had in some way been meted out to the young man. In any case, she resolved to find out.

During the previous evening's visit to the palace Xena had mentally mapped out every last twist and turn along her convoluted route. On this already very warm morning, however, she recognized right away that she and Gabrielle were being led through an entirely different part of the massive edifice. At last they turned a corner and were espied by a man who stood up from his seat on a plain wooden bench and strode purposefully toward them. "I am Khafra," he said. "I will be the king's interpreter."

Narrowing her eyelids to mere slits, Xena suspiciously asked "What happened to Ankarad?"

"It is I who have been blessed by our omnipotent king with the appointment to serve as the Greek interpreter," Khafra pompously declared. "As I only returned to Thebes this morning I was naturally unavailable for your interview with her last night. The scribe is but a mere civil servant, with the emphasis on the servant."

Who is this guy? thought Gabrielle.

With a contemptuous sniff he then said, "It makes me shudder to think that our beloved Maatkare was forced to utilize the services of one so uneducated, so...base; a mere clerk."

By now Xena had learned that arrogance was something the Egyptians were not short of. In this they reminded her of the Spartans. Irked now by this most recent display she decided to take this pompous bastard down a peg. She brushed past the huge guard standing at the door and imitating Callisto's menacing, girlish giggle, said, "Then you'd better get a blanket, junior, because I have a feeling Ankarad is going to be seeing a whole lot more of Maatkare than you are."

"Maatkare?" Gabrielle asked, wrinkling her nose. "Who's that?"

"It's Hatshepsut's throne name, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot," said the bard. "Gee, she has so many names and titles it's hard to keep up with them all."

With a sly grin Xena said, "Just don't be like Aloysius and call her queen." She looked hard at Khafra and with the same mocking giggle, said, "Come along, Gabrielle, the king awaits."  

With Gabrielle in tow, Xena entered the room. Hatshepsut was seated behind a long, beautifully crafted wooden table in a high--backed chair gilded with gold. Flanking her on either side were the standing figures of a man whom Xena had not seen before...and Senenmut. While she was not surprised to see the sullen man here--he was the Chief Architect after all--his presence nevertheless bothered her a little. As one highly experienced in dealing with those in positions of power she had seen his type all too often. Indeed there had been enough of them under her command--men who, while ardently professing devoted allegiance to their chieftain, were in reality loyal to no one but themselves and their own hungry dreams of power. Like Senenmut they were already well placed in the upper hierarchy of the command structure but that was not enough for them. Like ravenous hyenas tearing at a carcass they wanted it all. Senenmut had that same look about him. This man was trouble and she knew it.

In contrast Hatshepsut's relatively muted dress at court yesterday, Xena observed that today the pharaoh's attire was much more elegant, much more feminine. On this day the false beard was nowhere to be seen. She was wearing a long, snugly fitting dress that accentuated the graceful curves of her slender body. It was very similar to the one of last night except this one was much more finely woven. Its color was a beautiful sky blue with intricate white embroidering around the hem and the short sleeves. Her makeup was considerably more elaborate as well. Particular attention had been given to emphasizing her high cheekbones and to highlighting her piercing eyes. The eyebrows were heavily outlined in black coupled with eyelids shaded to match the color of her gown. Around her neck she wore the traditional wide collar Xena had seen on other, less prominent Egyptian officials. This one, however, was made of solid gold. She wore no headdress and her dark hair, long and straight, fell unfettered upon her slim shoulders. To Gabrielle it seemed as if not one single hair was out of place.

In awe the bard gazed upon this the pharaoh, divinity personified to her people; sitting erect, her proud chin lifted slightly. There was no doubt about it. Hatshepsut, the all-powerful Lady of the Two Lands, was an extremely handsome woman!

Whereas the romantic bard saw in her beauty and grace, the shrewd warrioress saw something else again. She saw power, and courage, and a ruthless sense of purpose. These things were hardly foreign to her. This was state business. This was Hatshepsut's undertaking and that made it Egypt's undertaking. What she wanted from Xena was something very close to her heart and the spectacularly regal appearance was simply one more way of reinforcing that message to the Greek warrioress. It reaffirmed the power of the Egyptian throne and it's ability to influence events--and people.

As to be expected it was the king who spoke first. Her dark eyes falling upon Xena, she said, "Neshi tells me you did not return to his home last night. Was something wrong?"

"No," Xena replied. "We decided it would be best if we found a place nearer the palace--for the sake of convenience."

"If I had known that is what you desired I would have insisted you stay here," said Hatshepsut. "However I trust you slept well."

Why does she truckle to this barbarian?! Senenmut wondered. In the back of his mind a possible explanation nagged at him. However it was one which he fervently hoped was wrong. Could it possibly be that she...likes this beast? The mere idea of it appalled him.

Eyes shining in sweet remembrance of the night just past, Xena looked at her bard and said, "Couldn't have been better."

The pleasantries over now, Hatshepsut got straight to business. "I would like to hear your plan for the construction of my ships."

Courtesy or no, Senenmut could not contain himself. "So would I," he said with a smirk.

Her hand nothing but a blur, Xena reached up behind her head and withdrew her sword from its scabbard. Both Senenmut and the other man recoiled in shock and alarm at the sight of the big, razor sharp blade but Hatshepsut never so much as blinked. Instead she allowed her impassive face to form an outline of a smile as she intently stared at the Warrior Princess.

Nonchalantly Xena tossed the sword from her right hand into her left and returned the pharaoh's smile with one of her own. She then extended the now empty right hand out palm up to the bard and said, "Gabrielle."

"Right," the bard answered, with a nod. In a wink Gabrielle thrust her hand into her shoulder bag and produced a scroll which she immediately plopped into Xena's waiting hand.

Xena strolled over to the table and, using her sword to keep the curled edges in place, stretched the scroll out on the table in front of Hatshepsut. With great interest the pharaoh leaned forward to study the scroll. What she saw was a map of Upper Egypt and Nubia. It was extremely accurate and finely detailed--right down to the placement of the cataracts in the Nile River.

Hatshepsut glanced up from the map. "I have never seen better," she marveled. "Where did you get this?"

"I drew it last night at the inn," said Xena. "It's based on a map I saw at Neshi's home."

"You drew this from memory?"


"Is there nothing you cannot do?" Hatshepsut asked, with wonder.

Caught up in the middle of Hatshepsut's praise for her warrior, Gabrielle blurted out, "She has many skills."

The dark eyes shifted their focus from Xena to her diminutive companion and for the first time Gabrielle experienced what it was like to fall under the power of her royal gaze. "Uhh...sorry," she sheepishly stammered.

This little one adores the warrioress, thought Hatshepsut. As intelligent as the king was she hardly needed the wisdom of Nut to see that. It was all too obvious just from the way the girl looked at Xena.

Mercifully for Gabrielle, Xena spoke again and the dark eyes turned away from her, releasing her from their spell.

"The problem," Xena began, "is of course the timber."

"I must say you are a master at stating the obvious," sniffed Senenmut.

Much as one would speak to restless child, Hatshepsut warned, "Senenmut, if cannot contribute anything constructive then we have no need of you here."

Senenmut was aghast. His king had never spoken to him that way in public before. What is it about this Greek bitch that causes her to have such a hold on Hatshepsut?

"Go on," Hatshepsut urged with a nod.

"Now," said Xena, continuing, "it's my assumption that most of the high grade timber needed for ship construction would be brought up from Nubia, right?"

"That is correct," said the other man. This was Sennefer, a man of considerable ability whom Hatshepsut would one day appoint as the mayor of Thebes.

"My engineers tell me it will take at least three moons just to amass enough timber at Quseir to build the ships and the necessary docks to support them," said Hatshepsut.

"I'm sure that would be true," Xena blandly replied. "If the timber was going that far."

Hatshepsut closed on eye and looked askance at her. "What do you mean?"

"Those timbers won't be going to Quseir," explained Xena.

"Where then?" Senenmut asked, incredulously. "The desert?"

With an enigmatic smile Xena replied, "In a way." She pointed a long finger to a dot on the map. "Here," she said. "Coptos."


"That's right."

For Hatshepsut the mounting sense of anticipation was just too great. She could take the suspense no longer. Rising out of her seat, she stamped her foot in frustration. "Tell me!" she cried, almost pleading.

"Have the framing timbers and the planking taken to Coptos," said Xena. "That's where we're going to build the ships."

"You're mad!" exclaimed Senenmut. "What good are sea going vessels this far up the Nile? And for that matter, why Coptos?"

With more restraint and infinitely more insight, Sennefer suddenly looked at Xena and asked "The road?"

Giving him a nod of approval, Xena said, "That's right. We'll take advantage of that big road that runs from Coptos to Quseir."

"But how, Xena?" Hatshepsut eagerly asked.

"We'll build the ships in Coptos," Xena repeated. She then paused before dropping the fire bomb. "In sections. While we're doing that somebody else can shore up the docks at Quseir. Then, when we're finished the individual sections can be transported overland to Quseir and assembled there. That way you kill two birds with one stone."

Brilliant! thought Sennefer. Why hadn't anyone ever thought of that before?

"It will never work," scoffed Senenmut.

"It will work," Xena forcefully countered him.

"And just how would you know?"

Her voice low and throaty, Xena rasped, "Because I've done it before." On one occasion back in her pirate days she had returned from a successful moon of raiding on the Propontis Sea only to discover the enraged Phrygians had blockaded the narrow Hellespont, the only western exit from the Propontis. Effectively bottled up, Xena had stubbornly refused to admit defeat. To her abandoning her ship to attempt an overland escape was not an option so she had ordered the whole thing taken apart; ship, treasure and all was carried over the narrow Chersonese Peninsula to the blue green waters of the Thracian Sea and safety. Granted her ship had been considerably smaller than what Hatshepsut was expecting her to build now but given the money and the manpower that had been placed at her disposal she saw no reason to think she would be any less successful.

Eyes twinkling with excitement, Hatshepsut said, "This plan becomes you, Xena. It will be as you say."

"Great Pharaoh," Senenmut doggedly persisted, "I am the Chief Architect and I say this is doomed to failure."

"And I say you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground!" snapped Xena.

However the flabbergasted Khafra did not immediately translate this. Senenmut, catching Xena's tone if not her meaning, looked to the suddenly very uncomfortable Khafra. "I--I can't tell him that," pleaded Khafra.

Not taking her blazing eyes off Senenmut Xena grimly said, "You tell him. Tell him word for word." In Xena's mind there was room for only one leader of this project and it certainly was not going to be this pompous bastard.

Dutifully Khafra complied but not before stumbling a little over the reference to the Chief Architect's "back door."

At Xena's side Gabrielle intently watched the three Egyptians behind the table, wondering what their reaction would be. Sennefer's face did not betray his sense of gratification as he thought, It is about time someone put that arrogant ass in his place.

The bard then saw Hatshepsut lower her chin slightly and put a curled index finger to her lips. Gabrielle rather suspected the delicate cough that followed was meant to suppress a laugh.

Senenmut was not laughing. Face red, his voice nearly choking with rage, he said, "Great Pharaoh, I should not be insulted in this manner by this, this...savage! I implore Your Majesty to do something!"

"You are right," his pharaoh calmly replied. "Something should be done."

Senenmut's expression of smug expectancy turned suddenly to one of shock and total dismay when Hatshepsut mildly added, "You are dismissed."

Gabrielle thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head.

Gaping at Hatshepsut in utter disbelief, Senenmut tried to protest but his tongue simply would not obey him. "But..."

"Go!" Hatshepsut sharply ordered. "Now!"

For the stunned Senenmut there was nothing left but to obey. Fixing his eyes on the door, too ashamed to look at Sennefer or his king--too enraged to look at Xena--he briskly and with as much dignity as he could muster walked straight out of the room.

"There now," said Hatshepsut, after he had gone. "Peace at last." Now that she had removed the quarrelsome thorn in their side, Hatshepsut once again turned to Xena's proposal. Turning to Sennefer, she asked "How long before we have ship's timber and planking arriving in Coptos?"

Sennefer's analytical mind made the necessary mental calculations and the answer was, "Ten days, Lord."

"That is acceptable," she pronounced. To Xena she then announced, "I am giving you Sennefer here. He is a man of excellent ability and has a special talent for getting things done under duress."

Humbled by his king's praise, Sennefer said, "I am overwhelmed by my sovereign's confidence in me."

Dark Egyptian eyes searched out their icy blue Greek counterparts and Hatshepsut added the qualifier. "Assuming of course that you have no objection to this one as well."

"He'll do," Xena declared.

Hatshepsut leaned forward and placed both palms down on the table. "Now for a more delicate matter," she said, after a pause. "In order not to foster resentment and to assuage any fears it will be necessary to name a high ranking Egyptian official as head of this project. Make no mistake, Xena, it will be purely a nominal position. You will retain sole authority over the construction of my ships." Casting a stern eye at Sennefer, she asked, "Is that understood?"

"Perfectly," the man gulped.

"Now, I have given this matter some thought," said Hatshepsut, continuing. "Senenmut, as the chief architect, would seem to be the logical choice..." She paused here and a faint smile of amusement playing across her lips. "...but in this case I think not. Therefore I have decided to appoint Neshi to that role."

Her decision was based on more than a mere desire to placate Xena. Senenmut might have held among many other titles that of "Chief Architect" but in truth this was hardly for his technical prowess. The man was more bureaucrat than builder. Hatshepsut was well aware that some in the government might scratch their heads over her choice but that was simply too bad. She could not risk the acrimony between Xena and Senenmut interfering with her plans. Therefore Senenmut had to go. That he was her favorite lover was of no consequence here. This was a matter of national importance. Egypt's prestige--her prestige would be at stake and that made it far too important to risk having it all come apart because of some petty jealousy. And that, she knew, was what it really was. Senenmut was jealous of Xena. Perhaps he sensed her attraction to Xena, perhaps not. What was plain, however, was her unprecedented decision to treat Xena as an equal.

"Neshi's a good man," allowed Xena. "He'll make a good liaison."

"You'll need a skilled interpreter too," said Hatshepsut. "I will give you Khafra."

Resolutely Xena set her jaw. "No."

Both Sennefer and Khafra were stunned by this, the interpreter being doubly so. While both were astounded that this woman had actually dared to rebuff their divine ruler, for Khafra the shock was compounded by the fact that this woman was refusing to avail herself of his services. Obviously this was going to be a highly important project and he wanted to share, however minutely, in the glory of it. Was he now going to be denied his share by this rude woman?

He was.

"I want Ankarad," said Xena, firmly.


"The scribe from last night," Xena reminded her.

"Oh yes." With an apathetic wave of the hand she decreed, "Very well." Glancing at the shocked interpreter, she said, "You will inform the scribe of his new duties."

However averse he was to this decision, Khafra, unlike the haughty Senenmut, did not dare protest. His station in life was much too lowly for that.

It was at this moment that Amenhotep, her Chief Steward, joined them in the room. After a deep bow he quietly said, "It is almost time, Lord."

Hatshepsut nodded her acknowledgment and Amenhotep stepped from the room just as silently as he had entered.

"Sennefer," said the pharaoh, "I place you under Xena's authority. You will obey her every command to the exclusion of all others."

"Yes, Great King."

Hatshepsut flashed Xena a sly smile and added, "Except, of course, for my own."

"Of course," echoed Xena, arching an eyebrow. She was beginning to like this woman.

As Hatshepsut moved out from behind the table Xena picked up her sword and casually returned it to its scabbard.

"It is a beautiful weapon," remarked Hatshepsut.

"It's never failed me," said Xena.

"How could it," purred Hatshepsut, "with such a strong arm to wield it?"

For a moment she allowed her eyes to rove over the Greek's powerful arms and shoulders, her rock hard waist, her long, graceful legs. Never had the pharaoh seen anyone like her! From every pore of her body Xena exuded strength, power, and above all a kind of intense genius. Yet the warrioress remained first and foremost a woman and this fascinated Hatshepsut to no end. True she--a woman--wielded more power than anyone alive but the cold hard fact was she was not a warrior. Never had been. And despite Xena's obviously gifted mind it was the aura of danger she emitted the really captivated the pharaoh. Xena had a seething feral quality that seemed to lie just beneath the surface, barely suppressed, just waiting to rise up and assume dominance once more over this magnificent woman!

Just looking at the Greek woman excited her. Now Hatshepsut found herself aching to stroke that powerful arm. But she could not. At least--not yet. Which brought her to the fair-haired on by Xena's side. Stepping toe to toe with her, Hatshepsut asked "Gabrielle, right?"


"Gabrielle," Hatshepsut repeated, careful not to sound condescending. "A nice name. A pretty name." A soft name, she thought. Like its owner. It was a name not hard and formidable like Hat-shep-sut...or Xee-nah. It never occurred to her that this "soft" young woman was fully capable of tearing her limb from limb had she so desired. "It rolls off the tongue well," she said. "Even for an Egyptian." Leaning close, she said, "You are very beautiful."

This embarrassed the bard some but fortunately the pharaoh's attention was once again turned elsewhere for by now Sennefer was anxious to get his marching orders and go. Though long used to being in close proximity to such power, he nevertheless felt a bit ill at ease around Hatshepsut. He knew why but dared not even think about the fact that his king was a woman lest his eyes or his hesitant tongue somehow betray him. Privately he felt it was unfaithful to Egypt's sacred maat to have a female wear the Double Crown of the Two Lands. Of course he wisely kept such thoughts to himself. In this he was not alone but no one, least of all him, was in any position to say otherwise.

Edging over to the three women, he asked "What are my instructions?"

Xena never hesitated as she replied, "I want you to start assembling the work crews. Remember," she warned, "no slave labor."

"How long will it take you?" Hatshepsut asked.

"I am not sure," said Sennefer. "The procurement of labor may be difficult if we follow Xena's method."

"Take whatever steps necessary," said Hatshepsut.

"But where can I find so many men so quickly?" he asked.

To Xena the answer was obvious. "The army," she said.

"Do you not consider the use of army troops to be forced labor?" asked Hatshepsut.

"Most of them are volunteers, aren't they?"

"Yes." In times past Egyptian royalty had not deemed it necessary to maintain a standing army. For the defense of the nation they had relied on a kind of crude reserve system. The invasion of the Hyksos and the subsequent century of subservience under them had changed all that. Since their overthrow the succeeding pharaohs had made it a point to keep the army intact and ready to fight. Now it was considered one of the few places in Egyptian society where a young man of low birth actually stood a chance of improving his lot in life. Consequently the army rarely had trouble filling its ranks.

"Then they're not slaves," said Xena. "An army is as much about work as it is about fighting. In fact most soldiers' daily lives are not dangerous at all. Instead they involve not training or fighting, but plain old ordinary work."

Xena could see Hatshepsut had no idea this was so. To her it was simply unbelievable that she, as commander-in-chief, did not understand this. "Work is part of being a soldier," said Xena, summarizing.

"Very well then," said Hatshepsut. "It is so ordered. Take half the garrison here at Thebes and the entire one at Naqada. I will have the necessary arrangements made."

"Yes, Great One," said Sennefer. "Barring difficulty I think we can expect to have them in Coptos within four days."

"You've got two," Xena tersely informed him.

"Why so quickly?" asked Hatshepsut, puzzled. "Sennefer just said it will likely be ten days before the first materials reach Coptos."

"There are plenty of other things they can be doing," Xena patiently explained. "Then, when the material does start arriving we can hit the ground running on this thing."

"You are right, of course," Hatshepsut conceded. Drawing herself up to her full height, she said, "Very well, I leave it in your capable hands. Build my..." Remembering last night she paused and amusedly said, "...your ships, Xena, and you will have my eternal gratitude."

"With the king's permission," said Sennefer, "I shall begin making preparations." Hatshepsut nodded her approval and Sennefer, bowing, took his leave.

"We should be going as well," said Xena. "I want to get down to Coptos and take a look around."

It was a small thing but one Hatshepsut greatly appreciated. To most north was usually referred to as "up" because of its relative position on maps. To the Egyptians, however, where the eternal Nile permeated every part of their lives, "up" had only one connotation--upriver. Since the Nile flows from south to north, "up" to the Egyptians meant south. Hence, this was why Upper Egypt was south of Lower Egypt. Coptos lay north of Thebes. Xena and the rest had passed it on their way up the Nile. That she had taken care to correctly refer to Coptos' relative position to Thebes as "down" only made Hatshepsut admire her more.

"Of course," said Hatshepsut. She clapped her hands and the huge guard standing vigil outside the door immediately stepped inside. "Prepare a barge for my shipwrights." The guard nodded and disappeared.

"Well," Hatshepsut said with a deep sigh, "it is time to once more play the little game. I must change now for court."

"Lose the beard," Xena quietly urged her.

"I will...think about it," was the pharaoh's hesitant reply.

"Neither your maat nor your ka will be destroyed," Xena assured her. She raised her hand very near--almost but not quite touching--and pointed at Hatshepsut's chest. "Besides, the only true maat Egypt needs is right here, in your heart."

These were noble words to be sure and Hatshepsut was not quite certain whether these were what stirred her or if it was Xena's hand hovering so near to her breast. Maybe it was both. Whatever the case Hatshepsut was not about to let it blind her to what was really important and it was this relentless pursuit of her goal that prompted her next act.

Coolly she walked over to marble stand upon which sat a small chest, handsomely crafted and trimmed with silver. Very carefully she lifted the lid up to a resting position. "Last night," she said, "you said you would name your reward when the ships were done. Since it is not money you want there can undoubtedly be only one other thing."

Xena did not need to see the contents of the chest to know what was there. She and Gabrielle joined Hatshepsut beside the chest and, gazing down into it, the bard cried out, "Your chakram!"

Inside the exquisite weapon lay on a violet pillow as if patiently waiting for the hand of its incomparable mistress to claim it once more.

"I should have known this would be much more important to you than mere gold," said Hatshepsut.

Xena reached into the chest and before she picked it up, gently trailed a middle finger over its hard surface. Hello, old friend, she thought.

"You must give me a demonstration sometime," said the pharaoh, as Xena returned the chakram her side. "I would like to see what you can do with it."

"You name it," said Gabrielle, "and Xena can do it." She good naturedly tousled her hair and added, "Even cut hair."

Xena flashed the bard a brief, warm smile. Gabrielle's quip made her think back to the formidable Najara and her own comment that both of them had the same "weakness." How so very true! she thought.

Hatshepsut thought she was beginning to understand the stoic Xena so naturally it was with some surprise that she heard Xena say, "Actually this wasn't what I had in mind."

"Oh?" Silently Hatshepsut wondered just what could be so important that Xena would forego an opportunity to regain a possession so obviously dear to her. But then, like the dawning of the sun, it slowly came to her that maybe Xena had never intended to give up the chakram at all. Perhaps, even as she was handing it over, the Greek had been scheming as to how to get it back. You devil! she thought, not with anger but with an even more profound sense of respect. "It does not matter. I return this to you as a sign of good faith and my offer still stands. What then would you like?"

"Well that's up to Gabrielle here," said Xena, matter-of-factly.

Perplexed and a little unnerved by this, the bard asked "Huh? Meee?"

"Yep. It's your call, Gabrielle."

"But...why me?" Gabrielle protested. "Xena, you're the one building the ships."

"And you're going to be my assistant," said Xena. "And since I'm not interested, naturally it should be my assistant who gets the reward. It's only fair."

Why am I not surprised? thought Hatshepsut. Sooner or later she always gets back to this little fair-haired one. "So be it then," she said. "Gabrielle, what shall you have as payment for Xena's--your services?"

"I--" Caught unaware, the poor bard had not a clue. Try as she might her mind was blank.

Xena, seeing her difficulty, gently touched her arm and said, "You don't have to decide now."

"Of course not," said Hatshepsut.

By now, though, Gabrielle had made up her mind. Her voice soft but resolute, she said, "No. I won't accept anything either. It's Xena's prize or nobody's."

Now it was Hatshepsut's turn to be puzzled. "I thought you Greeks were hopelessly materialistic."

"Not this Greek," said Xena, nodding with pride to her little friend.

"All right then," said Hatshepsut. "Have it your way. But the offer still stands. Egypt does not forget those that do her service. Again, though, I must say it seems inconceivable to me that you would put forth such an effort and not want to be properly compensated."

Patting her bard's shoulder, Xena said, "Well we kinda like to travel light."

Chapter 8


On command the forty-four oarsmen lifted their great blades up out of the great river and, under the skillful hand of the helmsman, the barge coasted slowly into its mooring place. No sooner had the barged gently bumped up against the quay before Xena was nimbly over the side, her boots making a soft thump as she landed cat-like upon the old boards. The much more patient Neshi, the much less athletic Gabrielle and the much too humble Ankarad were all content to wait for the gangplank to be put down but soon enough they were standing on the quay at the side of the Warrior Princess.

Since taking their leave of Hatshepsut yesterday it had taken them all the rest of that day and the better part of this one to reach Coptos but now here they were, the vanguard of a project that, if successful, would be sure to swell many an Egyptian's heart with pride. Upon meeting Neshi at the barge, Xena had learned of the departure of Aloysius and Certes back to Cyprus. After traveling so far with them Xena was somewhat sorry that she and Gabrielle had not gotten the chance to say good-bye, especially to the good--hearted Certes. Her regret was tempered by the knowledge that the envoys could go home and tell their king the mission had been a success, thanks in no small part to her. And too she could rightfully chalk it up as another "problem" solved.

Gabrielle shaded her eyes with her hand and looked west, out onto the river that was Egypt's life blood. Behind her the voices of Xena and the two men faded to faint murmurs as she stared into shimmering waters. There was no doubt about it, Egypt was an enchanting place. However as she stood there squinting into the evening sun she found herself thinking of the green fields, the deep forests, the mountains and the swift rivers of home--of Greece. Yes, it had been a great adventure, especially at first. She had seen with her own eyes the legendary pyramids, had traveled down the mighty Nile and walked the streets of the fabled city of Thebes. Above everything else she had met the great Hatshepsut. It had all been wonderful and she was so glad they had come but now Gabrielle of Poteidaia found herself wanting to go home. She longed to feel those cool coastal breezes on her face once more and to hear the cooing of the dove in the trees as it welcomed the dawn. But that, of course, would have to wait. Xena would never leave until she had done what she promised to do and indeed Gabrielle would not have wanted her to. Nevertheless, the bard now looked forward to the time when she and her lover could leave this place and once more sink their heels into the black dirt of their homeland.


At the sound of Xena's voice Gabrielle was instantly whisked away from the fertile fields of Greece and back to the sun drenched plains of Upper Egypt. "Hmmm?"

"Are you coming?"

"Oh. Yeah." The bard blinked and then said, "Sorry."

"What were you thinking about?" asked Xena.

"Oh, nothing."

Xena knew better but let it go nevertheless. With a small wave of the hand she said, "Well come on. I want to take a look around before it gets dark."


Naturally with the distinguished Neshi along they could obtain any mode of transportation available but what Xena wanted was a horse. It had been a long time since she had held the reins in her hands and pressed her knees against those powerful flanks and she missed that. Neshi was more than happy to oblige her and so from a pen full of horses at a nearby livery Xena's shrewd eye picked out a big, highly spirited roan named Kusha. Gabrielle was not looking forward to another wild ride in one of those careening chariots but neither was she willing to settle for some bumpy old cart. This prompted her to tell Xena that she too wanted a horse. Accordingly, Xena chose for her a gentle little mare named Jossa who seemed to take an immediate liking to the bard.

As for Neshi he was perfectly happy to let Xena and her friend go their own way because, like Gabrielle, he really wanted no further part of those heaving chariots. He was not a soldier, indeed for the most part had lived in comfort and privilege and consequently was not accustomed to the strenuous lifestyle that was so much a part of his less noble countrymen's daily existence. As such he was much more content to avail himself of the mayor's hospitality and looked forward to a sumptuous meal, a warm bath--and perhaps the sweet attentions of some well bred young lady. As far as Ankarad was concerned it was simply a matter of going home. His mother had lived in Coptos ever since the death of his father some ten years before.

And so, while Neshi was being borne to the mayor's house on the sturdy shoulders of four large members of that official's own personal guard, and while Ankarad was winding his way through the narrow back streets of Coptos toward his mother's home, Xena and Gabrielle were guiding their horses eastward out of the city onto the low plain that extended beyond. Farther east, stretching out toward Quseir and the Red Sea, lay the vast Wadi Hammamat. As they ranged out from Coptos Xena was not long in coming to the realization that it would be here, on this plain, that she would build "her" ships. All that remained now was for her to decide just exactly where along that great road running to Quseir they would set up operations. At first Xena wanted to distance the camp from Coptos but the farther east she and Gabrielle went the more she became convinced that this was not a good idea. Moving farther away from the Nile would simply cause unnecessary hardship for everybody.

The two of them doubled back and at last, when the sun was no more than a fist's width above the horizon and with the tops of Coptos' tallest buildings in sight, Xena stopped and dismounted by way of that peculiar rocking motion Gabrielle knew so well. The warrioress had sensed her horse was favoring his left front leg and so she had stopped to take a look. Picking up the foot, she found a small stone embedded in the hoof. Its removal posed no problem and once out, Xena playfully tossed the pebble at Gabrielle.

At the moment, though, the bard's mind was elsewhere. "Xena?"


"What do you make of that Senenmut guy?"

"Why do you ask?"

Gabrielle wrinkled her nose and said, "I don't think we've heard the last of him."

Xena shaded her eyes and looked back west toward Coptos. "Probably not," she agreed. "We've stepped on his toes, Gabrielle. Worse, we've twice made him look bad in front of his king. He won't forget that."

"He's an ignorant ass," allowed Gabrielle, shaking her head.

"No, he's not stupid," Xena corrected her. "Hatshepsut is not one to suffer fools lightly. From what I hear he's actually a pretty able man."

"Hmph!" the bard snorted, still not convinced. "All I know is if I were Hatshepsut I wouldn't appoint him to the post of dung sweeper." It still angered her to remember the scorn with which Senenmut had looked at Xena.

"Well obviously she thinks a lot more of him than you do," said Xena, impishly.

"Hatshepsut is an extremely capable woman," persisted Gabrielle. "I just don't see what she needs with that guy."

Pursing her lips, Xena replied, "He fills a need." She paused for a moment and then added, "In more ways than one."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

With a leer the warrioress put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself back up on her horse. "I'll give you one guess."

Reading the look on Xena's face, Gabrielle caught her meaning well enough. "Oh, Xena," said the bard, in disbelief. "Surely not." The idea of that arrogant, hawk--nosed stick of a man hammering away between the legs of the elegant Hatshepsut was one that seemed almost impossible. "Gods, Xena, are you sure?"

"Oh yeah," Xena knowingly grinned. "He's doing her all right. Believe me, I can tell."

"You mean, she likes that guy? Why?"

"In her own way I guess she does," said Xena. shrugging. "But I would venture to say that it's all on her own terms." A very useful vassal, she remembered Hatshepsut saying. "And like I said, he fills a need." This was something Xena knew all too well from her warlord days. Back then she had never been averse to summoning some muscular underling to her tent for a night of savage passion. Like Senenmut, they had filled a need.

But there were other reasons as well. Of course Xena knew all about how instrumental Senenmut had been in solidifying Hatshepsut's place on the throne. This she had learned in a roundabout way from Neshi one dark night on their trip down the Nile. Though the two men were ostensibly comradely members of Hatshepsut's court, it had not taken Xena long to discern that they were in fact bitter rivals. Apparently Hatshepsut and Senenmut went way back together, perhaps even as far back as to before her marriage to her brother. She had also learned that Senenmut's relationship with Hatshepsut's daughter was unusually close and indeed for a time he had been her royal tutor. Neshi had also darkly hinted that perhaps the "Chief Architect" was even the child's father.

"Well if you ask me that makes him even more dangerous," said Gabrielle.

"As long as he stays out of our hair we'll get along just fine," said Xena. Again she swept her eyes over the landscape. As good a place as any, she thought. "Here," she said. "We'll build them here."

Gently she then prodded her horse into a walk. "We'd better be getting back," she said. "I want to get settled in so we can get an early start tomorrow."

"Xena, you're really taken this thing to heart, haven't you?"

"The sooner we get started the sooner it gets done," replied Xena, matter-of-factly. She looked back over her shoulder and Gabrielle saw a smile play across her lips. "You see, I don't want Mother kicking your butt for keeping me away from home."

Although Gabrielle would never have said so this was nothing less than music to her ears.


By evening of the next day, Sennefer had succeeded in carrying out Xena's first order. Gabrielle, flanked by Xena and Ankarad, stood upon the quay and watched in awe as no less than fifteen barges, each bearing dozens of men, came slowly floating down the Nile toward them. Nearing the city, the barges did not queue up to disgorge their human cargo at the landing as she had expected. Instead all but one of them ran its bow into the muddy banks of the Nile and there the men spilled out over the sides like water over a dam.

The lone barge to ease alongside the quay contained the skilled tradesmen Sennefer had gathered up and also the officers of the two garrisons. The senior officer among them was Hudsped, commander of the garrison at Naqada. No sooner had the heel of his sandal hit the old boards of the quay before he was met by Xena and the newly arrived Neshi.

'I assume you have been told what is expected of you?" Neshi sternly asked.

"Yes, sir," replied Hudsped. "By order of the Most High, Hatshepsut, I am to place myself and my men under the command of the Greek, Xena."

"That is correct," said Neshi. "And I need not remind you that her authority will be unquestioned, do I?"

"No, sir," said Hudsped. "I am a soldier. I will obey my orders, sir."

"Very well," said Neshi, satisfied. Turning to Xena, he declared, "Hudsped and his men are all yours."

Xena stuck the tip of her tongue in her cheek and watched with amusement as Neshi promptly did an about face and marched back to his waiting chair. Hoisted once again up on his chair by the four burly guards, he said, "Carry on," and then grinned, pleased by the double meaning of his words.

As they watched him being borne away Hudsped sidled up next to his new boss. "What are your orders, mistress?"

"The first one is to call me Xena," the warrioress good--naturedly replied. "After that, I want you to have your men make camp on the other side of town. Set up a tent for me and my friend here as well." Like any good commander Xena wanted to be close to her men.

Hudsped had not failed to notice the enchanting fair-haired woman who as of yet had not spoken a word. Still staring at her lovely visage, he asked "May I offer you mine?"

"That's very kind of you," said Gabrielle, smiling.

"Offer accepted," said Xena. She tilted her head toward the barge and said, "I'm going to take a look Sennefer's men. We'll be along later."

"As you wish." Try as he might, however, Hudsped could no longer keep a smile from flickering across his face.

"What is it?" Xena asked.

"I can't believe it's really happening," he replied.


"That I am to be under the command of the great Warrior Princess."

Shaking her head in mock exasperation, Gabrielle sighed and said, "Gods, Xena. Not another one! Is there anyone who ever picked up a sword that doesn't you?"

"Every Egyptian soldier who served under the Thutmoses knows the name of Xena," said Hudsped. "I still remember how my old captain used to practically choke every time he said your name." He furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "May I ask you something?"

"All right."

"What...what made you...?

"Give it up?" asked Xena, finishing it for him.


"Well that's a long story," said Xena. "Maybe Gabrielle here will tell it to you sometime."

Hudsped glanced at Ankarad but all he got in return was a very subtle shrug of the shoulders. He fancied himself a very shrewd judge of character but Xena was nothing but an enigma to him.

Turning abruptly to her interpreter, Xena asked. "Have you got those drawings?"

"Of course," he proudly answered. "Six copies, just like you asked." Very early that morning Xena had thrust into his hands the ship's plans she had sketched out the previous night. Since then he had spent the better part of the day very meticulously laying down every last detail on the finest papyrus he could find. It was important to him that he do a good job. Xena had reached down and plucked him from the oppressive travail of his daily existence and given him a chance to be part of something big, something exciting, and for that he was truly grateful.

"Okay then," said the warrioress, stepping on the gangplank, "let's all go get acquainted.

Soon enough every last man from those barges would know who she was.  

At dawn the next morning Xena pulled back the flap of her tent and strode straight out into the middle of almost a thousand men. Language barrier or no, Gabrielle was once again struck by almost effortless way she assumed immediate and total command of the situation. Xena was more than a born leader, it had been her destiny. Be it waging war, the building of ships or coaching silly games at the Summer Festival, people seemed almost mystically inclined to follow her. Even now, after all this time, the very name "Xena" seemed a synonym for "command."

With military precision the warrioress divided Hudsped's men into groups and, after carefully integrating Sennefer's tradesmen into these, assigned each their own particular tasks. Naturally the time spent waiting for the timber to arrive was not wasted. Tools were checked, axes and planes were sharpened, scaffolding was built, pegs of all sizes were cut, ropes were fashioned and tested--again and again, pitch was distilled, plans were reviewed.

In no uncertain terms Xena made it clear that she would not tolerate slipshod work. Once at sea the lives of their own countrymen would be at stake. Sennefer and Hudsped were told that the men would do a fair day's work--no more, no less. She would not allow them to be driven but she also made it crystal clear that any lack of effort by their men would necessarily reflect back on them. Of course, neither had to be reminded of how dimly Hatshepsut would view their failure.

Eleven days after the arrival of Xena and Gabrielle in Coptos, they, along with Sennefer, Hudsped and the ever present Ankarad, stood on the quay as the first load of planking arrived. All the rest of that day the planking continued to pour in on barge after barge. The next day the first massive framing timbers arrived. On inspection, Xena found that a great many of them were too big for her purposes but she knew a hundred men with axes and planes could remedy that soon enough. Last of all came the six great masts, tall and straight, at the exact length and diameter she had drawn out back in Thebes.

And so the work began in earnest.

Six crews, all armed with a copy of Ankarad's intricate plans, were set in motion under the watchful eye of the Warrior Princess. Very quickly she learned that, just as Hatshepsut had said, Sennefer was a man of foresight and great ability. In fact he had been the one to suggest that one ship be constructed on the banks of the Nile. In this way, he reasoned, they could not only practice assembling the components of the vessel, but also launch her on the river in order that her sailors might get a feel for her. Xena, thinking this a marvelous idea, changed her mind and ordered all the ships built there.

At the end of the first week of construction Neshi left for Thebes to report their progress. He never came back. Now that he had gotten the project successfully launched, his king decided she could put him to better use back at the capital. For this Neshi was grateful because in truth he had felt out of place there. He was a man of the court, he loved the urbane lifestyle, and whenever the course of his duties took him away from the great city of Thebes he always felt a little like a fish out of water. Unfortunately for him his talents were such that Hatshepsut saw fit to do this quite often.

Over the next two weeks the work went smoothly. Keel sections were laid, hull sections were framed, deck sections were planked. Most of the men thought it strange and even silly that they should be building ships so far from the sea but they all knew there were far worse things they could be doing. Besides, the work was not terribly hard and the food was decent so who were they to complain?

As for Gabrielle, Xena had more in mind for her than simply letting her shadow the warrioress as she oversaw the work. Although all Gabrielle knew about ships was that sailing in them usually made her sick, Xena wanted her to feel like she was a real part of what they were doing. Toward this, the warrioress every day gave her something to do, not too difficult to be sure, but something useful nonetheless. One day it might be fashioning rope, the next day might be distilling pitch, another might find her cutting sailcloth; anything to keep her busy.

True to her nature, Gabrielle was pleased that she could contribute so she threw herself into her chores with great zeal. With her fair hair and her green eyes the Egyptian workers at first regarded her as something of an oddity but that soon changed. As was nearly always the case her friendliness and warm smile won them over in very short order; so much so that, to Xena's great amusement, Gabrielle was very quickly "adopted" by the fifty score or so men at the camp. They could not do enough for her and, despite being unable to understand a word she said, sometimes even fought over who would work with her on a given day.

These minor squabbles aside, Hudsped's soldiers and Sennefer's tradesmen proved to be everything Xena had hoped for. So much so in fact that by the end of their first moon at Coptos the individual sections were very close to being completed. Accordingly, Xena had decided that to test their seaworthiness, she would assemble all the ships and launch them into the Nile. At this rate she figured everything would be finished in another fortnight.

For her it would be none too soon.


"The work is going extremely well, master. Extremely well."

For his lord this was not happy news by any stretch of the imagination. "Surely you are not suggesting there is a chance she might succeed?"

"Not merely a chance, lord," said his minion. "More like a certainty."

"Impossible!" his lord exploded.

The spy took a deep breath and with great tact said, "It seems the Greek, Xena, is a very ingenious, very clever woman."

His master however, adamantly refused to accept this. "It's that damn Sennefer!" he snarled. "That sniveling dog! I think groveling before women gets his manhood stiff."

This kind of talk did not fool the spy. Come on! he thought. If our Maatkare told you to eat a mountain of dung you'd kiss her ass and shovel it in with both hands!

Calmer now, his master said, "I will take care of that boot licking bastard in my own good time. Right now we must attend to more pressing matters."

He began to idly pluck at the huge ring his king recently given him by his king when suddenly a delicious thought came to him. The more he pondered on it the better he liked it. He thought it might very well be a way solve all his problems at once. "You know," he mused, "it would be most unfortunate if some...calamity were to befall the good subjects of Coptos."

Narrowing his eyelids to mere slits, the spy suspiciously asked "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," his master replied, snidely serene, "I was thinking along the lines of perhaps a fire."

"A fire? But that could--"

"Oh I don't mean a big one," said his master in smooth tones. "Yes. If a fire were to somehow break out say, among the docks and warehouses along the river, and if it were to somehow spread to the ships, I dare say it just might convince the Daughter of Amen that the gods have not looked favorably upon this misguided endeavor of hers after all."

"But a fire. Someone might get hurt."

The spy's master walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sefron," he crooned, "have you forgotten the money I lent you to pay your debts? Have you forgotten that I have never pressed you for repayment, even though it is a considerable sum.?"

Sefron lowered his eyes and softly replied, "No, lord, I have not forgotten."

"Good," beamed his master, well satisfied. His lips curving into a condescending smile, he said, "Besides, there are more important things at stake here. If we let these Greeks come in and start ordering us around, why, the first thing you know it will be the Hyksos all over again. Now, we don't want that, do we?"

It was a silly argument and Sefron knew it. But what could he say? This man had kept him from going to prison for his debts. He owed him more than money. He owed him his freedom as well. So it was no surprise that he now said, "No, my lord."

"Of course not. So then, what are the lives of a few peasants when compared to the preservation of our sacred maat? Now, the king will be going down to Coptos soon to personally inspect their progress. I think if on arrival all she found was ashes and gutted hulks of ships it might force her to come to her senses."

Stunned by what he was hearing, Sefron made no reply. He knew the man was a conniving schemer but this...

It was one thing to spy on one's rivals, it was quite another to destroy state property and endanger lives. Nevertheless, Sefron knew he would do as his master wished, just as he always had. How could he possibly do otherwise and survive? He would die in prison.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped him out of his momentary pensiveness. After blinking hard, he saw his master standing there with an expectant look on his face. Though well born himself, Sefron was in essence no different from any of the lowliest slaves living out their tortured existence in the hellish limestone quarries. Like every other Egyptian to one extent or another, his sole purpose for being was to submit, to obey. And so he would. His voice halting, he said, "It...will you say...lord."

"I knew you'd understand." How so very sweet it is to bend the will of others to my own! his master smugly thought. He was already one of the most powerful men in all of the two lands but it was not enough. He wanted more. He wanted...all of it. He wanted to bend an entire nation to his will. As he saw it this was not treason, not at all. The very idea that Egypt, the greatest power on earth, should be ruled by Hatshepsut, a mere woman no less, and Thutmose, a snot nosed boy, was absolutely appalling to him. In the midst of this self-righteous patriotism he conveniently forgot that it was this "mere woman" who was in fact responsible for his entire career. She had plucked him from the depths of poverty and obscurity and turned him into a great man. To him none of that mattered for he had come to believe that it was Destiny, not Hatshepsut, who was his great benefactress. Consequently, the sweet voices of loyalty and gratitude were no longer the ones he harkened to. What had his ear now were the husky whisperings of that alluring temptress, Ambition. "Select two or three men whom you can trust and return to Coptos," he said. "Do nothing until you hear from me. The timing in this must be absolutely precise. It is imperative that the king arrive as soon as possible afterward in order to achieve the full effect."

"How will I know when to act?" asked Sefron.

"I will send a messenger overland once I learn of the exact day of the king's departure," said his master.

Sefron nodded and left, leaving his master alone with his treacherous thoughts. It was his hope that the Daughter of Amen's confidence and resolve would be shaken by this. And since he had expressly warned her of its infeasibility, his influence with her would naturally grow even greater.

There were other thoughts as well. How wonderful it would be, he thought, if that arrogant bitch, Xena, were to somehow perish as a result of his handiwork. That would make the thing complete. Even if it did not happen, as long as that Greek slut was sent packing, that was all that mattered to him. And besides, it was a long way out of Egypt and the journey could be quite perilous. One never knew when some "accident" might happen.


Three days after this meeting Xena, Gabrielle, Hudsped, Sennefer and Ankarad stood on the quay looking up at the two ships moored there. So far their "sea" trials had met with only a few minor problems. Sennefer was ecstatic. Things were going better than he could have ever hoped for. Tomorrow two more ships would be launched and for the first time he felt he could see the end in sight.

"The king will be well pleased with you, Xena," he said.

"You guys are doing all the work," Xena modestly replied, as she watched a group of men busily greasing the launching runners. "All I've done is help you over the rough spots."

"Great ships on the Nile," marveled Hudsped, shaking his head. "Truly it is a wondrous sight."

"Kinda makes you want to be a sailor, huh?" teased Gabrielle.

"Well--I'm not that impressed," Hudsped good naturedly shot back.

Gabrielle chuckled at this and as always Xena was struck by the beauty of her smile.

Turning to Xena, Hudsped said, "Sennefer is right, the glory is all yours. I will be shocked if our Maatkare does not ask you to lead the expedition to Punt."

"Not a chance," Xena slowly said. "The only expedition I want to lead is our return trip to Greece."

A pity, thought Hudsped. He had been in the army fifteen years and in all that time he had never served under any three men combined that had the ability of this woman. So far Hatshepsut had not sought to use the army to any great extent although to her credit she had maintained its readiness at a very high level. They were therefore ready and with this remarkable woman to lead them Hudsped could see the army doing great things. Yes, it was a pity indeed.  

Sometime after sunset that evening a messenger arrived in Coptos and made his way straight to the inn where a man by the name of Sefron was staying. When the man answered the door to his room the messenger wordlessly handed him a note and immediately went on his way. Sefron stared after him for a moment before opening the note. There he read two words:

Act tonight.


Deep in the night Xena was awakened in her tent by the unmistakable smell of smoke and the pungent odor of burning pitch. Immediately alert, the warrioress raised up and propped herself on one elbow. The flickering light and the shadows she saw dancing on the wall of their tent told her all she needed to know.


Instantly she bolted upright on her pallet. "Gabrielle!" she cried sharply, as she gave the bard a hard push in the buttocks, "Wake up!"

"Mmm?" Gabrielle rolled over and her back and blearily cracked open her eyes. "What is it?" It was then that she too became aware of that peculiar smell, a smell that could only mean one thing.

Xena verbalized it for her. "There's a fire down by the quay."

Quickly the little bard rolled over on her side and began to grope for her boots. On several previous occasions over the past moon she had opted to sleep in the nude because of the oppressive heat. Now she thanked her lucky stars that this night she had chosen not to do so.

By the time she located her boots Xena already had hers on and was bolting out of the tent. It was only a few urgent seconds more before Gabrielle had tugged on her boots and scrambled to her feet. Bursting forth from the tent, she ran straight into the arms of Sennefer. "Xena?!" she yelled.

Sennefer turned and pointed toward the river. There, silhouetted against the flames, Gabrielle saw the familiar figure of her lover racing straight for the great quay. For the span of a breath of two she paused and stood there gaping at the fearful spectacle unfolding before her. Flames, some of them shooting upwards as high as thirty paces into the air, were hungrily devouring the huge storehouse and were just now spreading to the adjacent storage buildings situated along the dock.

"By the gods!" she gasped.

Reaching the fire, she found Xena and Hudsped desperately trying to communicate through a series of hand signals. As she joined them she saw Hudsped turn his palms up and shrug, indicating he did not understand. Xena swore an oath through gritted teeth and, reaching down, clawed a handful of dirt out of the ground and shook it under his nose. The light of recognition came on in Hudsped's eyes and he nodded vigorously that he got her meaning.

It was at this fortuitous moment that Ankarad breathlessly arrived on the scene.

All around the little group people were careening about in all different directions but Xena's steely gaze never wavered from the blazing conflagration. "Tell him to forget the warehouse--it's gone! Tell him to have his men try to contain the fire to those side buildings. If it spreads into the town, nothing's going to stop it!"

Hudsped listened to the scribe's hasty translation, nodded, and was off. Xena in turn moved to follow him but felt herself caught by the arm.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Gabrielle.

"I want you and Ankarad to go into town and help get the people evacuated."

"But, Xena, what about the ships?"

"Forget the ships!" Xena snapped. "Our focus is on the town!"


"Damn it, Gabrielle, there's no time to argue, do it!" Xena jerked her arm away and, taking off in a run, soon faded from sight in the thick smoke.

"Come, Gabrielle," said Ankarad, "we must hurry."

"No," the bard said, ever so softly.

"But you heard what Xena--"

"No," she said again. It was not often that Gabrielle went against Xena's wishes, especially in times of trouble. While it was true that she had never been one to mindlessly obey the warrioress and indeed had on more than once defiantly stood up to her, she also knew the occasion was rare when the Warrior Princess had been wrong. Still, she had never been hesitant to say what she thought. It was just that, damn it, Xena was right so very often. However as Gabrielle stood there amidst the chaos and confusion she knew in her heart this was going to be one time when she would not, could not, do it Xena's way. As she saw it this time Xena was not right--at least not as it concerned the role she was to play.

Ankarad would have to get someone else because Gabrielle had already made up her mind that she was going to try to save those ships. Her beloved Xena had put too much of herself into those ships, she had worked too hard, to simply give them up without a fight. To her it would be heartbreaking to see her friend's brilliant efforts go for naught.

Needless to say she felt it was right that Xena concentrate all her energies on saving the town. That was the most important thing and if anyone could do it, the infinitely resourceful Warrior Princess could. But the job Xena had given her was one anybody could do; it stemmed from the knowledge that her bard would be safer there, away from the fire. As usual Xena's reasoning was perfect. The only thing was, Gabrielle had no intention of playing it safe here. She was going to do this--for Xena.

"Go on, Ankarad," she said. "There's something I have to do."

"The ships?" asked the scribe.

"Yeah," she quietly answered.

"Come with me," he pleaded.

"I can't."

"Then please be careful."

"I will," the bard assured him. "Now go!"

He watched her turn and break into a trot and as the brave young woman disappeared into the thick shroud of smoke he said under his breath, "May our blessed Amen keep you safe, little one," Like everyone else he had grown extremely fond of the ebullient, fair haired Greek.  

Reaching the river, Gabrielle was aghast to find the quay already engulfed in flames. Worse, she saw that one of the two ships moored there was already afire. The bow was covered in flames which were now rapidly spreading amidships and were almost to the mast. Gabrielle realized it was already too late for this one.

Only two days before Xena herself had knocked loose the great wedges holding the vessel in place and Gabrielle still remembered the look of pride on Sennefer's face as the ship slipped down the runners and into the Nile. Now it was soon to be nothing more than blackened bits of wood.

While disheartened by this Gabrielle nevertheless remained undaunted by her task. By now the quay was completely covered in flames. In just a few short minutes they would be licking against the second ship. For her there was only one thing to do. She had to get that ship off from the quay. It dawned on her that if she could somehow get the ship free the river currents might be strong enough to pull her away from her moorings. But how? The burning quay made it impossible to board the ship or even to slip the mooring lines. What could she do?

There was one chance--a slim one, but a chance nonetheless. Late last evening she had seen two men working on a scaffold on the other side of the ship applying pitch to the outside of the ship's hull. She remembered one of the men casting the excess length of rope off the scaffold, down into the water. If that rope was still there...

Circling around the quay, Gabrielle raced down the bank to the water's edge. Without even stopping to remover her boots she dove out into the water and began swimming around to the far side of the ship. Would the rope still be there? Gabrielle prayed that it was. Rounding the vessel's stern she saw the eerily beautiful image of the fire reflection upon the water. When she was about midship she pulled up and began to tread water, her eyes desperately searching for the rope.

There it was!

"Yes!" the bard triumphantly hissed, and she made for the rope.

Ten paces may not sound like much but it is a very long distance when one is climbing straight up an unsecured rope. For Gabrielle it was made even more difficult by her wet clothes and her water--logged boots. Fortunately the scaffolding was still in place about two thirds of the way up the side of the ship and once she was safely on it she was able to pause and rest for a moment before gathering herself for the final ascent.

A few moments later she was bellying over the gangway and falling onto the deck with a thud. Instantly the nimble bard was on her feet and racing across the deck to the other side of the ship. Leaning out over the gangway, she saw the fire was almost lapping against the side of the ship. While swimming out to the rope the thought had occurred to her that the fire might in fact burn the mooring lines in two thus freeing the ship in that way. However she had quickly decided that was a risk she was not willing to take. The seams of that ship were full of fresh pitch and if it were to catch fire it was likely that by the time all three of those big mooring lines were burned away the hull of the ship might be as well.

Casting her eyes about in the wildly fluctuating firelight, Gabrielle looked for something, anything, with which she could cut the lines. She saw nothing. Angrily she cursed her lack of foresight. "Damn it!" she growled, kicking in frustration at the gangway. Gabrielle, you idiot! she silently raged. You should have brought a knife with you. It was a mistake that she knew Xena would not have made.

Come on, Gabrielle, she urged herself. Calm down. They're still doing work up here. Look for something you can use.

Down the starboard side of the ship at a trot she went. There must be something, she thought. There must be, Sure enough, back near the quarterdeck she came across an adz left behind by one of the men. Snatching it up, Gabrielle bolted to the nearest mooring line and began hacking away. All too soon she discovered that cutting it was going to be harder than she expected. After all, this was not rope of ordinary thickness but mooring rope, as thick as Xena's arm. Gabrielle herself had helped fashion some of it. As she whaled away she wondered when was the last time somebody had bothered to sharpen this cursed adz of hers.

After several blows Gabrielle stopped and, quickly fingering the rope to check her progress, found she was about three quarters of the way through. Taking a deep breath, the bard returned to her assault on the rope. Finally the last strand gave way and the line fell into the water with a quiet plop!

However Gabrielle was not around to hear it because she was already on her way to the next line. The old adz was not exactly Xena's razor edged sword but it was doing the job. Soon enough the bard had the two remaining lines falling away. Now there was nothing left to do but hope the Nile did its part.

Leaning again over the gangway, Gabrielle's heart leapt with joy as she saw the stern began to pull away from the quay. With a chortle she pitched the adz to the deck but not before giving its handle a big kiss. By the time she mounted the quarterdeck the ship was at least a couple of paces from the quay and gently floating out into the Nile.

She had done it.

Holding her nose, Gabrielle jumped feet first off the stern off the ship and into the Nile's warm waters. On the way back to shore she thought of Xena and wondered how she was doing. There was, however, no time to dwell on this because her work was not yet done. Sitting upriver on launching runners were two more ships. These were not quite ready yet but Gabrielle knew they float because she had heard Xena say they would.

Back on shore, she raced to the first set of launching runners. This time she had no trouble finding the proper tools because right there beside on of the great wedges lay the big mallet that had been used to drive them in. Quickly she snatched it up and began to hammer away at the wedge. When Xena had launched the first ship two days before she had knocked out each of the wedges holding the ship in place with one massive blow. Unfortunately the scrappy bard was not capable of such feats of strength nor did she care. She was going to knock those wedges out if it meant breaking her arms. Swinging the big mallet with all her might, Gabrielle pounded away at the wedge. At first it seemed hopeless but she would not allow herself to give up.

It was then she heard a loud crash. Looking up, she saw what was left of the quay collapse into the river. By the light of the fire she watched for just a moment as the ship she had cut loose went floating down the Nile past Coptos and into the darkness. There was no time to celebrate, however, for the flames were still inexorably moving her way.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and returned to her labors, grunting loudly with each blow on the mallet. At last she felt the stubborn wedge give just a little. Encouraged by this she redoubled her efforts. The nerves in her arms were screaming in agony but she was past pain now. There was only her goal.

One more blow fell and suddenly the wedge popped out of the hole. This time there was no exultation forthcoming from the bard, only grim satisfaction. One down, three to go, she thought. Ignoring her fatigue and the blisters forming on her hands, Gabrielle immediately began to rain a series of blows down on the second wedge with all her might. I will do it! she chanted, over and over again in her mind. I will do it!

Like a demon she worked, hammering away at the obstinate block of wood. Her cutting the ship loose seemed like a dream now. All there had ever been in the entire universe, was her, this mallet, and that damn block of wood. So focused was she on swinging the mallet that when the wedge finally broke free she still hit the spot where the wedge had been one more time before realizing the stop was no longer there.

Soaked with perspiration, Gabrielle stood back and watched as the ship, free now, groaned and slowly, quietly slid down the greased runners and out into the river. Wearily she now turned and made off in the direction of the last assembled ship. Farther down lay the two remaining ships in differing stages of assembly but there was nothing the bard could do regarding them. It was her hope that the fire would burn itself out, or the wind would change direction or something.

Stumbling to the runners, Gabrielle doggedly began to slam away at another one of the wedges. Suddenly, from out of the smoke and shadows there emerged a dark figure.

Thinking it one of the soldiers, Gabrielle beckoned to him with a blistered hand. "Come on!" she yelled. "Help me!"

Turning back to her work, she did not see the figure reach into his tunic and pull out a long dagger.  

Three hundred paces away, Xena paused and wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow, black with soot. They had been lucky. Yes, they were going to lose the warehouse and the surrounding structures but it turned out these were built largely out of stone. Except for parts of their wooden rooftops falling away, igniting the quay, most of the fire was being contained by those sturdy walls. Just to make sure Xena had positioned hundreds of men around with shovels ready to pitch dirt on the fire if it tried to spread and with that Hudsped had formed not one, but two bucket brigades that were now all filled and ready. As it looked now they were not going to be needed. The fires were still burning high but there was no wind to speak of to carry its embers beyond the walls.

Now that she had time to think on it, Xena began to suspect a sinister hand at work here. She could have understood one fire in one building but all the buildings, apparently at once? Not a chance. As Gabrielle would say there was something smelly in Sparta. Those fires had been set.

It was then she heard a commotion down by the river. Walking down to the bank, she looked out in the direction where several members of the bucket brigades were staring. There, illuminated by the flames of the warehouse, floating ever so peacefully past them, was one of the ships.

Instantly a single word popped into Xena's head. Gabrielle!  

Approaching the young woman straining under the mallet, Sefron recognized her as Xena's friend. She had seemed like a nice person and he did not want to kill her but now he had no choice. She was ruining his master's plan. The whole purpose of the fire had been to destroy those ships without arousing suspicion and here she was working feverishly to defeat that.

Once more Gabrielle smashed the mallet against the wedge. Looking up to see where the dark figure was, she saw him running toward her. In his hand she saw he was holding something that was glinting in the firelight. She recognized that it was a knife.

Gabrielle was hardly in a position to defend herself. Why this man had chosen to attack her she did not know. All that mattered was that she made sure he failed. Nearly exhausted from her heroics, she tightened her bleeding hands around the mallet and marshalled all her remaining strength for one last blow. When she judged her assailant was at the right distance she gritted her teeth and swung as hard as she could. The big mallet arced upward and as it struck the man on the side of the head Gabrielle heard a sickening crunch. Later, Gabrielle would not be able to remember whether she had heard the man cry out or even if he had made any sound at all. All she would remember was that deadly sound of heavy wood crushing bone.

The momentum of her swing was such that it sent her sprawliong right over the top of her would be attacker who was now crumpling to the ground. Both of them went down in a heap with the bard landing hard on her left shoulder. It hurt like Tartarus for a moment but again, it was as though she were now somehow inured to pain. For a few eon-like moments she lay there gasping for breath, her face practically buried in the sandy bank. Finally, after much effort, she was able to struggle up on her knees.

The ship! she thought. Gotta launch the ship! With all her strength she then staggered to her feet. Wearily she looked down at this man who had just tried to kill her. She did not know who he was and at the moment she did not care. All that mattered to her was to somehow, some way, launch Xena's ship.

"Gabrielle!" It was faint at first, like the soft coo of a distant dove.

"Gabrielle!" Again she heard it, louder this time.

"Gabrielle!" The bard made an attempt to turn her neck to look but it was so stiff she found herself forced to slowly turn her whole body around. Up by where the quay used to be she saw, running toward her with that familiar lope, Xena.

"Xena!" she breathlessly whispered.

Just then the little bard's knees began to buckle but fortunately the warrioress was able to catch her in those strong arms in the nick of time. Looking down at the dead man with the crushed skull, she anxiously asked "Gabrielle, are you all right?"

"The ship," Gabrielle mumbled. "The ship."

"Shhh," Xena cooed. "It's all right. The ships are all right."

"I...." Gabrielle's head sagged down onto Xena's shoulder and her body went limp in Xena's arms. The bard had fainted.

Xena swept the brave young woman up into her arms and began to carry her back to their tent. It was a slow trip and every time Gabrielle groaned or stirred, Xena softly, lovingly assured her, "It's all right, Gabrielle. It's all right."

And as long as her true love, this precious life whose ka was so irrevocably interwined with her own was there to share all the joys and sorrows of a lifetime together with her how could it possibly be otherwise?


Three weeks later it was done. All the remaining five ships and been completed, assembled, tested, disassembled, and were now loaded on the great wagons that would take them east to Quseir. Sennefer and his men would be going along to re-assemble them with the help of that part of Hudsped's garrison which had been selected to go along. The men who were to sail them were already on their way there and just as Hudsped had predicted Hatshepsut had indeed asked Xena to lead the expedition. True to her word, Xena had declined and so it fell once more to Neshi, much to his chagrin, to carry out his king's wishes.

On the day Xena and Gabrielle were set to depart for home they assembled one last time one the shores of the Nile for a meeting with Hatshepsut.

"Until the day I die I the two of you will hold a special place in my heart," said the pharaoh. Looking up at Xena she said, "You not only built my ships..." She paused and with a mischievous grin asked, "I can say my now, can't I?"

With a big smile Xena said, "Yes."

"As I was saying, you not only built my ships, but saved my city as well."

"The people saved their own town," said Xena.

"Modest to the last," teased Hatshepsut. Shifting over in front of the bard, she said, "And you! You saved my ships."

"Well I couldn't let Xena get all the glory," cracked the bard.

"Uhh huhh," retorted Xena. "What you almost got, was killed." Since that night she had tried to find out who had been behind the fires without any luck. She rather doubted the man who attacked Gabrielle had acted alone. She had her suspicions of course, with Senenmut holding down at least the first five places on her list. But any chance of pinning it on him had died with the man named Sefron. Naturally she had spoken her mind to Hatshepsut about it but had found the pharaoh strangely uninterested. It seemed as if she operated by a different set of rules where Senenmut was concerned.

"At any rate," said Hatshepsut, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"Umm, well there is one thing I'd like to ask," said Gabrielle.

"Name it and it is yours," said Hatshepsut.

"Ankarad," said Gabrielle. "Xena says he dreams of being a sailor. If you could, you know..."

"I will personally appoint him as one of the official chroniclers for the trip to Punt," Hatshepsut assured her.

"Thanks," said the bard.

It was here the captain of her bodyguard eased up next to the three women. "Great Pharaoh, their barge is ready."

"Very well." After he had departed Hatshepsut said, "And so we now say good-bye then."

"Not good-bye," said Xena. "Until later."

"Yes," said Hatshepsut, approvingly. "I do like that better."

"Good luck on your expedition," said Gabrielle. "May your ships always sail to a fair wind."

"And may your heart always glow with that incandescent light of love that now fills it," said Hatshepsut. One last time she cast her dark eyes upon the Warrior Princess and just for a moment allowed herself to think of what might have been."Until later, friends."

With that she turned away from them and walked to her own barge. Not once, Xena noticed, did she look back.

"You know, Xena, come to think of it..."

Not taking her eyes off the king, Xena answered, "Yeah?"

Furrowing her brow, the bard said, "Maybe you should have taken that job. I'm kind of getting to like boats."

With a faint smile Xena turned to her and said, "Let's go home, Gabrielle."


Three weeks later their longboat gently kissed up against the wind swept shores of the Arcadian Peninsula. With a cry of delight Gabrielle hopped out of the boat and gleefully ran through the surf into shore. There she threw down her bag and, dropping to her knees, scooped up a big handful of the dark sand. Holding it to her cheek, she lovingly crooned, "Mmm, I've missed you."

Moving in beside her, Xena looked up the shoreline in the direction of Haliesis. There her beloved Argo was patiently waiting for her mistress. Standing there beside her lover, she closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the cool breeze dance through her raven hair. No more boats, no more barges, no more burning hot sand, no more muddy Nile, and best of all no more barley bread.

They were home at last.  



There is some evidence to suggest that Senenmut, "Greatest of the Great," fell from favor with his king sometime around the sixteenth year of her reign. Much speculation surrounds this but the dominant theory seems to be he finally went too far and arrogantly took for himself privileges that were reserved for the king alone. Whatever the case, his body has ever been found.

Neither has Hatshepsut's. The circumstances surrounding her death are unknown and again are the subject of much debate. There are those who believe her vengeful nephew was responsible, others are of the opinion she died of natural causes. What is certain is that some time after her death an effort was made to erase the memory of her as king. Indeed her name was not to be found on any of the surviving king lists. Most of these attempts occurred during Thutmose's long reign so the natural conclusion one might draw is the new king, filled with hatred for the powerful woman who had for so long kept him from his rightful place, ascended to the throne determined to obliterate her name from Egyptian history for all time. However there is now evidence that this campaign was not begun until Thutmose III had reigned for twenty years or more. As for myself I am of the opinion the Thutmose's motive for this was not spite, but political expedience. I think he felt it would simply not do for succeeding generations to know that Egypt had once been successfully ruled by a female pharaoh. To him this might have seemed a direct challenge to the Egyptian concept of maat--very, very loosely defined as "the proper way of doing things." To the ancient Egyptians nothing mattered more than continuity and it is not hard to see how Hatshepsut's ascension to power could have upset many. We have found unflattering doodlings made by laborers who worked on Hatshepsut's temples which seem to suggest that even these common people sensed this.

Fortunately for us Thutmose's attempts were half-hearted at best and it is significant to note that only references to Hatshepsut as king were defaced. Those of her as the queen consort were left untouched. If Thutmose III had really despised her why did he allow these images to remain? Whatever the case, after thirty-five centuries, the proud name of Hatshepsut is once again alive and this new awareness seems especially appropriate in this day and age when women are continually soaring to ever loftier heights.

An inscription found in her unused tomb reads:

"The King's Daughter, God's Wife, King's Great Wife, Lady of the
Two Lands, Hatshepsut, says, 'Oh my mother, Nut, stretch thyself
over me, that thou mayest place me among the imperishable stars
which are in thee, and that I may not die.'"

She never will.

J. Covington

The End

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