Author’s Notes: I first wrote this story in 1998 inspired by The Magic: The Gathering Mirage and Visions sets while working overseas and updated it around 2002. Over the years, it has since circulated through assorted Xena fan fiction web-sites before they respectively ended. This is an updated version based on my more recent foreign experience and seems like something readers in this forum would enjoy. In relation to the television series timeline, this story takes place around Season 2, before Xena and Gabrielle encounter Dahak and the death of Xena’s son, Solan.
Wizards of the Coast briefly published a Xena: The Warrior Princess trading game card in the late 1990s and a part of me hopes that the company will someday depict those characters as legends.
***
GENERAL COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER: Xena: Warrior Princess, Gabrielle, Argo and all other characters who have appeared in the syndicated series Xena: Warrior Princess, together with the names, titles and back-story are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
***
High in the desert sky, the sun blazed its heat on the surface below. Pockets of tropical life dotted the harsh landscape of Arabia through a series of oases that shielded the weary traveler with shade, food, and water.
Gabrielle had just finished picking up some dates and some small fruits and walked toward Xena with a small, filled bag.
“Mmmm…these are really good…” commented Gabrielle, her mouth half-stuffed full of fruit.
“Thanks for saving me some, Gabrielle,” joked Xena after taking a bite and spitting one out. "You eat the best and leave me the sour ones...”
“Whoops. Sorry...” apologized Gabrielle with a smirk. "I'm sure the food we find in Medina will be much better."
“I should hope so,” replied Xena while filling her waterskin. “Medina is the central city among four major provinces that make up Arabia; four powerful tribes maintain a loose alliance that barely holds it together."
“Four tribes?” asked Gabrielle. “Who are they?”
“The Fulanif. The Saud’Ata. The Al-Dhafir. The Zahran.” explained Xena, drawing their symbols in the sand with a stick. “All very strong and proud tribes that don’t like each other, nor do they even respect one another in some cases. It seems their senses of honor and religious beliefs clash.”
“What do you mean? A warrior’s honor is a warrior’s honor, right?” commented Gabrielle.
“Not exactly,” responded Xena, wiping the sand clean before she and Gabrielle got to their feet and made their way to their horses. “The Saud’Ata and Al-Dhafir are masters of the hit and run tactic with their cavalry, which the Fulanif and Zahran perceive as dishonorable since they believe in combat between champions to settle a dispute, not large armies. The Saud’Ata are also known to use assassins; I don’t even want to begin discussing their religious differences.”
“They don’t much different than the politicians in Athens with their intrigues,” commented Gabrielle.
“Yes, but don’t tell any of them that,” replied Xena, mounting Argo while Gabrielle got on her small riding horse. “We'll reach Medina by nightfall in time for its festival.”
“So what keeps the alliance together?” called out a puzzled Gabrielle.
“Laith El-Khaldun,” answered Xena.
“Bless you,” replied Gabrielle.
“I didn’t sneeze, Gabrielle,” said Xena. “I mean Laith El-Khaldun, a powerful lord in this region. He’s a cruel tyrant who makes Ares look like Hercules. It took the combined might of all four tribes to force a stalemate in battle, and he still holds land and a dominant. Right now he controls a loose confederation of bandit tribes in this region and commands influence in the Al-Shammari tribe. The great festival in Medina is more than just a celebration; it’s a meeting to discuss peace. Apparently there have been some recent border skirmishes.”
“So where does Autolycus fit in all this?” asked Gabrielle, recalling a message exchange between them in the days leading up to their journey to Arabia.
“He was hired by Laith to spy on the others,” answered Xena with a smile before picking up the pace.
***
By early sunset Xena and Gabrielle reached the glimmering city of Medina. A great alabaster wall surrounded the mighty city, with ivory turban shaped towers covered in bronze paint dotting the many battlements within its structure. Entering the massive gate, Xena and Gabrielle passed through the massive streets filled with peddlers and merchants of all forms.
“What a beautiful city…look at these silks....they must be imported from Cathay,” said Gabrielle excitedly.
“These high prices have my attention,” added Xena, overhearing the people haggling for the cost of food, supplies, and goods. “We’ll be out of dinars after our third meal.”
“Ladies, leave that to me,” came a suave voice. It was none other than the legendary King of Thieves, Autolycus. Dressed in simple yet elegantly tailored clothes, Autolycus sprang from the doorway to greet his friends.
“Not at all, Xena,” insisted Autolycus while helping Gabrielle down from her horse. “This is the gift of my employer, Laith El-Khaldun. This medallion here buys me anything I need. Food, lodging, fancy clothes...women...wine…well, you get the idea.”
“What kind of service is he getting then? A medallion that grants you unlimited buying in Medina isn’t something he would give to anyone,” Xena replied sternly.
“Why, the expert advice and spying of the legendary Autolycus, King of Thieves!” boasted Autolycus, leading Xena and Gabrielle into the inn. “However,”
“However,” corrected Xena. “You’re here at my request to see what he’s planning.”
“Well, yes,” admitted Autolycus begrudgingly. “But you’re killing my reputation, Xena. People need to know that Autolycus is here as the personal spy selected by the feared and respected Laith El-Khaldun, not for Xena.”
“The people can believe whatever they like,” warned Xena, grabbing Autolycus by his shirt. “Just as long as you have a clear understanding of who’s in charge.”
“Oh yes, very clear understanding,” replied Autolycus.
“Well, now, shall we begin?”
“Who said that?” asked Gabrielle, turning around
“This is Siraj Jiburi, a cavalier and general among in the Zahran tribes,” introduced Xena.
Siraj Jiburi was a tall and broad shouldered Arabian man in his prime. Dark haired with bronze skin with a thick mustache and well-trimmed beard, he escorted the three into a private chamber under the heavy guard of his elite warriors.
“I am glad that you came at such short notice, Xena,” said Siraj. “The alliance is waning; I fear that by the end of this festival at least one of the major tribes will join Laith El-Khaldun. He’s already been politicking with the Al-Dhafir and Saud’Ata ambassadors. I’ve been able to keep the Fulanif allied with my tribe, but I don’t know for how long.”
“What do you know about his plans, so far, Autolycus?” asked Gabrielle.
“Well, not much really,” explained Autolycus with a shrug. “When I first showed up he greeted me with open arms and gave me the medallion. I’ve been kind of busy seeing the sights of Medina ever since.”
“Excellent,” said Xena with a smile.
“What do you mean?” asked Gabrielle. “I thought Autolycus was supposed to spy on him.”
“Laith is clever. He can smell a spy out for him several leagues away,” commented Siraj Jiburi. “He took Autolycus’s arrival as an attempt to spy on him by the Fulanif or me, and probably feels that he has taken care of the spy.”
“Exactly,” agreed Xena. “Now I can infiltrate to learn how he plans to break apart the alliance.”
“Great!” exclaimed Gabrielle. “What are you going to do, Xena? Climb the towers to his palace under the cloak of darkness or maybe through a waterway?”
“Not exactly,” admitted Xena. “Like Siraj described, Laith is extremely clever. Even with Autolycus marginalized his palace is filled with his assassins looking for enemy spies. I’m going to have to take a more subtle approach to get inside the palace.”
“How will I get in, then?” asked Gabrielle.
“Like any good thief to a party,” said Siraj Jiburi with a smile. “You’re invited.”
***
Two days later, the entourages of the four tribes arrived at the palace of Laith El-Khaldun. The Saud’Ata was the first to arrive, led by the fierce warrior Rashikh Masood. Rashikh was in fine red, black, and gold decorated robes worthy of a prince while his elite bodyguards dressed for battle in light bronze scalemail armor over black garb adorned with white turbans over their bronze helmets. The Al-Dhafir was the next to arrive, led by its chieftain Talib Tahir and his bodyguards, clad in lamellar armor over their scarlet and gold robes. The Fulanif soon arrived afterwards, led by Hanif Tawfiq dressed in polished breastplates over their white tunics laced with red. The last to arrive were the Zahran, led by Siraj Jiburi, dressed in shining white and gold ceremonial armor with a dark red cape. At his side was Gabrielle, dressed in as one of his personal attendants.
In the main banquet hall the four tribes sat alongside the mighty Laith El-Khaldun, a darkly handsome man with a thick, black beard and bearing a scarlet and black turban upon his head. His dark eyes and intense visage pierced like the serpent.
“My honored guests,” he announced. “I am blessed with the company of strength set before me in my house. In this time of great festivities, I offer you the hospitality of my house, its sumptuous food, and the courtesy of my servants.”
“Your words ring true, most honored Laith El-Khaldun,” said Rashikh. “It is indeed a time to celebrate.”
The crowd cheered in response and the festivities began. Hours passed into the night as the various groups consumed the sumptuous feast. Meanwhile, Siraj Jiburi kept a watchful eye on Laith El-Khaldun. With Gabrielle at his side, Siraj Jiburi planned his next move.
“Why don't you get us some more fruit,” suggested Siraj, subtly alluding to Laith who was nearby.
“Fruit, yes, absolutely,” replied Gabrielle nervously before making her way to the dining table and eavesdropped on the conversation.
“Noble Talib Tahir,” complemented Laith. “The Al-Dhafir has the finest cavalry Arabia has ever seen. Truly, I was foolish to consider warring against you years before. Wisdom has proven to be a great counselor towards understanding the world the way I know now. Tell me, how are the fall harvests in the great fields of Al-Qassim?”
"Nay, Laith,” replied Talib Tahir. “Those lands no longer belong to my tribe. It is now ruled by the Fulanif as part of the terms we agreed upon.”
“Really!?” asked Laith, visibly surprised. “Your grandfather and his father fought valiantly to defend those lands in years past from invaders. Songs of their valor are still sung here in Medina. It is a pity that such rich land has been to the cattle and goat herders of the Fulanif.”
Talib Tahir’s eyes narrowed, gulping his wine hard before saying, “Absolutely. Siraj Jiburi’s constant prattling about peace muddle the warrior’s heart. Peace is kept through strength, not the chatter of women. Were we more numerous, I would reclaim what is rightfully ours from the Fulanif.”
“Indeed,” Laith agreed with a devilish smile. “Perhaps we should talk later, when the poets have retired for the night. We have much in common, as do the Saud’Ata.”
“Yes! Yes! Warrior to warrior,” agreed Talib. "
Gabrielle made her way back to Siraj Jiburi, reporting, “It doesn't look good. Laith El-Khaldun is planting seeds of deceit to harvest soon.”
“Perhaps then it is time reap what I have sown,” replied Siraj.
***
“Great Laith El-Khaldun,” announced Siraj Jiburi. “Your hospitality transcends the glory of the heavens itself. The food, the wine, and entertainment are worthy of a blessing bestowed by the most powerful of Djinn. Please accept this humble token of thanks from the Zahran.”
Laith smiled and nodded in acceptance. The grand doors of the main hall opened and emerging from the smoky mists that shot forth was a tall, statuesque woman with raven black hair and piercing blue eyes: Xena. Disguised as a dancer, Xena wore a silky blue and red outfit decorated with gold lace and a blue veil, revealing only her piercing blue eyes to the observer.
“Yes, most magnificent,” commented Laith in admiration.
Xena seductively strode toward Laith and began to dance as the musicians played on. Intrigued by her performance, Talib and Rashikh pulled back to their groups and away from Laith to acquire a better look.
“Where’s Autolycus? I haven’t seen him all night,” whispered Gabrielle.
“I don’t know. Perhaps we should,” started Siraj before being interrupted by one of his warriors.
“We’ve just received word that the main camp has been attacked,” he said.
“Attacked?” whispered Siraj Jiburi in disbelief. “By whom?”
“I do not know, my lord,” he replied. “Your elite guard is waiting below. Here is Dawuud’s message requesting your assistance.”
“I must depart at once,” said Siraj.
“I understand, Siraj,” replied Gabrielle. “We will meet you back at the inn tomorrow.”
Siraj nodded in agreement and quickly left to meet his escorting guards. Minutes later, Siraj Jiburi and his small force left Medina to their camp located beyond the city’s walls. Xena continued to dance while Gabrielle slipped away to look for the missing Autolycus.
“Excellent. Excellent, my raven-haired beauty; your beauty and grace transcend the shimmering onyx itself,” boasted Laith while clapping. “My guest of honor must enjoy this performance also. Call for him.”
A large gong sounded, and escorted in with two beautiful women at each side and on a trail of freshly laid rose petals, was none other than Joxer. Joxer’s eyes lit up in shock when he recognized the woman performing in the great hall.
“XENA!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?” exclaimed Joxer.
“XENA!? SO, AT LONG LAST WE MEET!” shouted Laith. “SEIZE THEM!”
Xena’s eyes flared wildly over her discovery as guards flooded the room. Grabbing a goblet of wine, oil, and a torch, Xena ripped off her veil, took a quick gulp and spat the wine into a quick burst of flame that threw the initial wave off-balance.
Xena let out a war cry as she back-flipped onto the dining table and kicked a guard in the face. She flipped another guard over, knocking him unconscious. More guards filled the room, and Xena made a dash for the window to escape, kicking another guard away and dodging two more.
“STOP!” demanded Rashikh. Xena turned around.
“If you leave the dullard you call a friend dies,” announced Rashikh, standing over Joxer with his scimitar at his throat. Joxer remained motionless in a cold sweat, giving an apologetic shrug. More guards entered, bringing in Gabrielle as their prisoner. Xena reluctantly surrendered Laith’s guards secured Xena, Gabrielle, and Joxer and took them away.
“I will deal with them in due time,” Laith replied, looking around to see no sign of the Zahran delegation. "Behold, noble Hanif Tawfiq, noble Rashikh, and noble Talib Tahir, we are beset by cobras! Who brought this so-called ‘gift’ to me!?”
“SIRAJ JIBURI!” roared the crowd angrily.
“YES!” shouted Laith in response. “And where is he now? GONE! Like a coward with no honor he comes as friend and unleashes a foreign witch in our land. Do you want to keep an alliance with this pig-swine? Do you, brave Rashikh!?”
“NO!” cursed Rashikh.
“Do you, mighty Talib Tahir?”
“NO!” shouted Talib Tahir.
“Then I say join me and abandon the dog Siraj Jiburi. With our cunning and our steel, we can unite Arabia and extend our kingdom belong the seas. WHAT SAY YOU!?” yelled Laith amongst the rousing ovation of the crowd.
“DEATH TO THE ZAHRANIAN TRAITORS! DEATH TO SIRAJ JIBURI!” chanted the crowd.
“We Fulanif do not rush to war,” answered Hanif Tawfiq. “But I will give you an audience with what you offer.”
“My brothers,” said Laith confidently. “This is truly a time to celebrate. Enjoy my hospitality while I deal with the intruders.”
With a wave of his hand, two dozen more harem girls entered the great hall with more exotic food and wine.
“Let the revels begin,” whispered Laith to himself.
***
Elsewhere, Siraj Jiburi and his men rode hard back to their camp. Arriving on site, they found the area remarkably calm.
“My lord Siraj!” exclaimed a Zahranian soldier. “We did not expect you until morning!”
“What happened? Where did they attack from?” demanded Siraj Jiburi.
“Attack? There’s been no attack,” replied Dawuud, one of commanders who emerged from the camp. “Nothing has happened?”
“I’ve been tricked!” cursed Siraj Jiburi. “Get me a fresh horse and summon forty men. I must return to Medina!”
***
Meanwhile, in a dungeon in the bowels of Laith El-Khaldun’s palace, Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus sat in their call under heavy guard.
“I cannot believe you did that!!” scolded Gabrielle. “You yell out, ‘XENA,’ like that in the grand palace hall with all of his guards and assassins looking on. Couldn’t you tell that she was in disguise?”
“Okay, okay, so I messed up,” muttered Joxer. “I was invited by Laith who welcomed me as this great warrior! How was I to know that he was just using me as a means to identify Xena?”
“Because you’re stupid, Joxer,” answered Autolycus. “You let yourself get manipulated.”
“Oh, and I suppose those fancy clothes weren’t part of the way Laith tricked you!” accused Gabrielle. “You were supposed to find out what his plans were, remember?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right,” acknowledged Autolycus, looking at his clothes. “But this is real silk!”
“I’m very, very, happy for you,” replied Gabrielle, dripping with sarcasm in her tone. “But we need to get out of here! We have to save Xena before the gods know what that tyrant does to her!”
***
In another cell on the other end of the palace, Xena was immobilized on the floor, wrapped in the coils of giant python that pinned her arms at her sides and legs together. A serpent’s coil was dangerous wrapped around her neck and tightened subtly when Laith entered the chamber.
“Cute pet you have,” commented Xena. “What do you feed it?”
“Small goats, occasionally a side of raw beef, but mostly spies,” Laith answered with an evil smile. “My pet is quite well-trained. A lesser animal would have crushed you to death by now.”
“Lucky me,” Xena replied.
“Lucky? Perhaps not, for you will suffer a slow, crushing death by the serpent’s embrace as your lungs burn and heart beats no more,” warned Laith. “Your theatrics in the hall was the spike I needed to split the alliance. The Saud’Ata and Al-Dhafir support me and soon, the Fulanif as well. The Zahran will be driven from their lands and ground into dust.”
“Nice plan, but why Joxer in all this?” questioned Xena.
“Autolycus is dumb, but not dumb enough to tell me what you look like. I’ve never laid eyes on you, but I knew that you were beautiful,” answered Laith. “I guessed correctly that you would try to infiltrate in through my weakness for beauty. It was just a question of when and how; Joxer was merely my guarantee on your identification.”
“You will be dead before sunrise,” promised Xena, struggling.
“I’ve heard that before, and I stand before you,” Laith replied before leaving.
The great serpent began to slowly tighten its grip around Xena. Despite her efforts to slip an arm free, the serpent would compensate with its body, retaining its deadly grip around her. Desperate, Xena bit into the hide of the serpent, piercing its skin and drawing blood.
The serpent hissed in pain and quickly retracted its coils, releasing Xena. Xena rolled to the side and quickly got to her feet. The serpent assumed an attack stance and struck, but received a spinning kick delivered to the head from Xena. Xena grabbed an old manacle and chain from the floor, wielding the makeshift flail and struck the serpent with several blows to the head before it embedded into its flesh. Whipping its death throes, the serpent collapsed.
“I wonder how much that hide would fetch in the open market in Medina,” quipped Xena before picking the lock with a piece of metal.
***
Back in their cell Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus attempted a means of escape.
“Hey there, big boy,” offered Gabrielle “I’m feeling kind of lonely...”
“I don’t think the ‘seduce the guard into giving you the key’ technique is going to work, Gabrielle,” commented Autolycus. “Well, no offense, but your seduction doesn’t outweigh their fear of Laith’s wrath if they allowed us to escape.”
“None taken,” muttered Gabrielle with a punch to Autolycus’s gut.
“What are they going to do with us?” lamented Joxer.
“I have a good idea,” answered Autolycus, sitting down in the cell. “They’ll probably chop off my head in the public square as an exhibition, sell Gabrielle into slavery, and probably neuter you like a dog, Joxer.”
“Well that might be so bad,” commented Joxer before shrieking, “HEY! NEUTERED LIKE A DOG!? You mean they’re going to chop off my…”
“None of that is going to happen!” interrupted Gabrielle. “We mustn’t panic and need to plan our escape.”
***
Xena stealthily moved through the shadows avoiding the guards until she reached a dungeon storehouse where they kept the confiscated weapons.
“Let’s see, what have we here,” whispered Xena to herself. “Here’s Joxer’s old armor and sword, and the rucksack left by Siraj Jiburi. Lucky the guards lost interest when they didn’t find any gold in it.”
Xena opened the pack revealing her battle armor, leather boots and guards, and chakram.
“Time to keep a promise,” said Xena with a smile.
***
By this time Laith, Rashikh, and Talib Tahir were in the war room planning the assault against Siraj Jiburi and his forces. Hanif Tawfiq was a step behind them, listening intently.
“The main force of Al-Dhafir cavalry shall attack from the south...and while Jiburi is busy attempting to negotiate, my forces will attack from his flank, leaving him open for the final attack with the Saud’Ata. Within a few weeks their provincial capital will be ours,” proposed Laith.
“Well done,” complemented Rashikh. “Siraj Jiburi’s warrior senses have been dulled from his talk of false promises. The Saud’Ata stand ready."
“What of the Fulanif?” asked Talib Tahir, looking directly as Hanif Tawfiq.
“We will not raise arms against the Zahran, but you will be allowed safe passage through our lands,” he answered.
“So it is agreed....this night begins the fall of the accursed Zahran and the dawn of a new age in the Arabia!" shouted Rashikh confidently.
“Don’t count your victories before the banner falls, gentlemen,” interrupted Xena, entering the room with chakram at the ready. “Can't you see you’re being tricked by Laith? He’s using you to shatter the alliance so he can eventually take over! Laith is the devil, having you forsake your honor for his own personal goal.”
“How DARE you speak to us in such a manner, Xena,” replied Rashikh. “You are nothing more than a filthy gutter-child who got lucky and a won few skirmishes”
“Only one way to find out,” said Xena when Rashikh drew his sword. As Rashikh advanced, Xena dropped her chakram to the floor.
“I will not fight you Rashikh for I know that you are a warrior of honor and will not strike at an unarmed foe. My fight is with that venomous snake Laith,” she added.
“BAH!” scoffed Rashikh. “Die like the filth that you truly are!”
Xena stood firm. Rashikh slashed with his sword, only to be parried by the blades of Talib Tahir and Hanif Tawfiq.
“So it’s true,” said Talib, cautiously pacing towards Xena with Hanif Tawfiq. “You’ve forsaken your honor; no true warrior would strike down an unarmed opponent as such.”
“What has gotten into you two!?” yelled Laith. “Honor is the solace losers give themselves after being defeated by a superior foe. What good has the idle prattle from Siraj Jiburi been? I offer you a chance to re-shape Arabia. Will you be a part of it, or a victim of it? With your steel, Rashikh’s valor, and my cunning, even the power beyond the Mediterranean Sea will cower before us! What say you?"
“Without honor, we are nothing,” replied Talib as he and Hanif attacked Rashikh. Laith drew his scimitar as Xena kicked up her chakram and deflected the attack.
“Not bad for an old man,” Xena said, leaping into the air and onto the table. Laith responded with a quick strike, throwing a small dagger that slashed Xena's left arm.
“I’ll live long enough to see you dead at my feet, witch!” he replied.
“My sentiments exactly,” responded Xena, throwing her chakram and shattering his scimitar into pieces before returning to her hand.
“Peasant skills,” replied Laith, quickly throwing small poisoned blades at Xena. She deflected the first two but missed the third, landing in her left leg. Xena yelled in pain and dropped to a knee while Rashikh slew Talib Tahir and continued his battle against Hanif. Laith smiled and drew another throwing knife.
“The next time you have a chance to kill your foe, Xena, don’t hesitate,” Laith announced.
Xena cried out in agony, pulling the blade out of her leg and lunged forward, impaling him in the throat. Laith coughed up blood before falling dead on the floor.
“Thanks for the advice; I’ll use it sometime,” replied Xena.
Hanif proved the better fighter against Rashikh, slaying him with his sword.
Hanif Tawfiq helped Xena to her feet.
“Come, we must bandage your wound and get you out of here before the poison kills you,” said Hanif. “We’re fortunate that Laith keeps his war room isolated from the rest of the palace, but we must hurry.”
“Thank you,” said a weakened Xena.
***
Hanif Tawfiq hastily bandaged her wound and smuggled Xena out of the palace, but not before manufacturing the release of Joxer, Gabrielle, and Autolycus to his control by using Laith’s seal on a scroll from the war room.
The small Fulanif force reached Siraj Jiburi’s group that had just returned to Medina.
“Hold!” called out Siraj Jiburi. “Hanif Tawfiq of the Fulanif, are we still friend, or do we now stand against each other as foe?”
“You truly are a clown, Siraj Jiburi,” replied Hanif, signaling his men to return Gabrielle, Joxer, Autolycus, and a wounded Xena to Siraj. “Leave your politicking to others. The next time I will not retrieve your playthings from the enemy’s camp. Expect the Saud’Ata to attack you within the next few days alongside the Al-Shammari.”
With that, Hanif exchanged a final accusatory glare at Siraj before leaving with his group.
***
Four days passed and Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus recovered under the Siraj Jiburi’s protection. On the fifth day Xena and Gabrielle said goodbye to Joxer and Autolycus, who sailed back to Greece. On the sixth day, Xena and Gabrielle prepared to depart. News of widespread skirmishes rang throughout the streets of Medina between the Zahran, Fulanif, Saud’Ata, Al-Dhafir, and Al-Shammari tribes as temporary alliances of convenience formed and broke with the sunrise and sunset.
Even worse, Laith El-Khaldun wasn’t even dead. Instead, Xena had killed one of his body-doubles and the real one was alive and well, commanding his forces to strike at will throughout the territory.
“I am sorry for what has happened,” said Xena.
“Forgive me first for involving you in the first place,” said Siraj. “The alliance is not broken, only changed. Another stalemate will come and with it, an uneasy peace based upon shakier alliance, but it will do.”
“Farewell, Siraj,” said Xena, riding out the gate with Gabrielle. Gabrielle appeared visibly perturbed after their departure from the city.
“Why the long face, Gabrielle,” Xena asked.
“All that time in Medina and all I got was this lousy smock,” muttered Gabrielle, inspecting the only item that she could afford in the marketplace.
“Catchy phrase, Gabrielle,” replied Xena. “You should write it on the smock and sell it in the market.”
“You think so?”
THE END
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Wizards of the Coast briefly published a Xena: The Warrior Princess trading game card in the late 1990s and a part of me hopes that the company will someday depict those characters as legends.
***
GENERAL COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER: Xena: Warrior Princess, Gabrielle, Argo and all other characters who have appeared in the syndicated series Xena: Warrior Princess, together with the names, titles and back-story are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
***
High in the desert sky, the sun blazed its heat on the surface below. Pockets of tropical life dotted the harsh landscape of Arabia through a series of oases that shielded the weary traveler with shade, food, and water.
Gabrielle had just finished picking up some dates and some small fruits and walked toward Xena with a small, filled bag.
“Mmmm…these are really good…” commented Gabrielle, her mouth half-stuffed full of fruit.
“Thanks for saving me some, Gabrielle,” joked Xena after taking a bite and spitting one out. "You eat the best and leave me the sour ones...”
“Whoops. Sorry...” apologized Gabrielle with a smirk. "I'm sure the food we find in Medina will be much better."
“I should hope so,” replied Xena while filling her waterskin. “Medina is the central city among four major provinces that make up Arabia; four powerful tribes maintain a loose alliance that barely holds it together."
“Four tribes?” asked Gabrielle. “Who are they?”
“The Fulanif. The Saud’Ata. The Al-Dhafir. The Zahran.” explained Xena, drawing their symbols in the sand with a stick. “All very strong and proud tribes that don’t like each other, nor do they even respect one another in some cases. It seems their senses of honor and religious beliefs clash.”
“What do you mean? A warrior’s honor is a warrior’s honor, right?” commented Gabrielle.
“Not exactly,” responded Xena, wiping the sand clean before she and Gabrielle got to their feet and made their way to their horses. “The Saud’Ata and Al-Dhafir are masters of the hit and run tactic with their cavalry, which the Fulanif and Zahran perceive as dishonorable since they believe in combat between champions to settle a dispute, not large armies. The Saud’Ata are also known to use assassins; I don’t even want to begin discussing their religious differences.”
“They don’t much different than the politicians in Athens with their intrigues,” commented Gabrielle.
“Yes, but don’t tell any of them that,” replied Xena, mounting Argo while Gabrielle got on her small riding horse. “We'll reach Medina by nightfall in time for its festival.”
“So what keeps the alliance together?” called out a puzzled Gabrielle.
“Laith El-Khaldun,” answered Xena.
“Bless you,” replied Gabrielle.
“I didn’t sneeze, Gabrielle,” said Xena. “I mean Laith El-Khaldun, a powerful lord in this region. He’s a cruel tyrant who makes Ares look like Hercules. It took the combined might of all four tribes to force a stalemate in battle, and he still holds land and a dominant. Right now he controls a loose confederation of bandit tribes in this region and commands influence in the Al-Shammari tribe. The great festival in Medina is more than just a celebration; it’s a meeting to discuss peace. Apparently there have been some recent border skirmishes.”
“So where does Autolycus fit in all this?” asked Gabrielle, recalling a message exchange between them in the days leading up to their journey to Arabia.
“He was hired by Laith to spy on the others,” answered Xena with a smile before picking up the pace.
***
By early sunset Xena and Gabrielle reached the glimmering city of Medina. A great alabaster wall surrounded the mighty city, with ivory turban shaped towers covered in bronze paint dotting the many battlements within its structure. Entering the massive gate, Xena and Gabrielle passed through the massive streets filled with peddlers and merchants of all forms.
“What a beautiful city…look at these silks....they must be imported from Cathay,” said Gabrielle excitedly.
“These high prices have my attention,” added Xena, overhearing the people haggling for the cost of food, supplies, and goods. “We’ll be out of dinars after our third meal.”
“Ladies, leave that to me,” came a suave voice. It was none other than the legendary King of Thieves, Autolycus. Dressed in simple yet elegantly tailored clothes, Autolycus sprang from the doorway to greet his friends.
“Nice threads, Autolycus,” commented Xena. “Steal them?”
“Not at all, Xena,” insisted Autolycus while helping Gabrielle down from her horse. “This is the gift of my employer, Laith El-Khaldun. This medallion here buys me anything I need. Food, lodging, fancy clothes...women...wine…well, you get the idea.”
“What kind of service is he getting then? A medallion that grants you unlimited buying in Medina isn’t something he would give to anyone,” Xena replied sternly.
“Why, the expert advice and spying of the legendary Autolycus, King of Thieves!” boasted Autolycus, leading Xena and Gabrielle into the inn. “However,”
“However,” corrected Xena. “You’re here at my request to see what he’s planning.”
“Well, yes,” admitted Autolycus begrudgingly. “But you’re killing my reputation, Xena. People need to know that Autolycus is here as the personal spy selected by the feared and respected Laith El-Khaldun, not for Xena.”
“The people can believe whatever they like,” warned Xena, grabbing Autolycus by his shirt. “Just as long as you have a clear understanding of who’s in charge.”
“Oh yes, very clear understanding,” replied Autolycus.
“Well, now, shall we begin?”
“Who said that?” asked Gabrielle, turning around
“This is Siraj Jiburi, a cavalier and general among in the Zahran tribes,” introduced Xena.
Siraj Jiburi was a tall and broad shouldered Arabian man in his prime. Dark haired with bronze skin with a thick mustache and well-trimmed beard, he escorted the three into a private chamber under the heavy guard of his elite warriors.
“I am glad that you came at such short notice, Xena,” said Siraj. “The alliance is waning; I fear that by the end of this festival at least one of the major tribes will join Laith El-Khaldun. He’s already been politicking with the Al-Dhafir and Saud’Ata ambassadors. I’ve been able to keep the Fulanif allied with my tribe, but I don’t know for how long.”
“What do you know about his plans, so far, Autolycus?” asked Gabrielle.
“Well, not much really,” explained Autolycus with a shrug. “When I first showed up he greeted me with open arms and gave me the medallion. I’ve been kind of busy seeing the sights of Medina ever since.”
“Excellent,” said Xena with a smile.
“What do you mean?” asked Gabrielle. “I thought Autolycus was supposed to spy on him.”
“Laith is clever. He can smell a spy out for him several leagues away,” commented Siraj Jiburi. “He took Autolycus’s arrival as an attempt to spy on him by the Fulanif or me, and probably feels that he has taken care of the spy.”
“Exactly,” agreed Xena. “Now I can infiltrate to learn how he plans to break apart the alliance.”
“Great!” exclaimed Gabrielle. “What are you going to do, Xena? Climb the towers to his palace under the cloak of darkness or maybe through a waterway?”
“Not exactly,” admitted Xena. “Like Siraj described, Laith is extremely clever. Even with Autolycus marginalized his palace is filled with his assassins looking for enemy spies. I’m going to have to take a more subtle approach to get inside the palace.”
“How will I get in, then?” asked Gabrielle.
“Like any good thief to a party,” said Siraj Jiburi with a smile. “You’re invited.”
***
Two days later, the entourages of the four tribes arrived at the palace of Laith El-Khaldun. The Saud’Ata was the first to arrive, led by the fierce warrior Rashikh Masood. Rashikh was in fine red, black, and gold decorated robes worthy of a prince while his elite bodyguards dressed for battle in light bronze scalemail armor over black garb adorned with white turbans over their bronze helmets. The Al-Dhafir was the next to arrive, led by its chieftain Talib Tahir and his bodyguards, clad in lamellar armor over their scarlet and gold robes. The Fulanif soon arrived afterwards, led by Hanif Tawfiq dressed in polished breastplates over their white tunics laced with red. The last to arrive were the Zahran, led by Siraj Jiburi, dressed in shining white and gold ceremonial armor with a dark red cape. At his side was Gabrielle, dressed in as one of his personal attendants.
In the main banquet hall the four tribes sat alongside the mighty Laith El-Khaldun, a darkly handsome man with a thick, black beard and bearing a scarlet and black turban upon his head. His dark eyes and intense visage pierced like the serpent.
“My honored guests,” he announced. “I am blessed with the company of strength set before me in my house. In this time of great festivities, I offer you the hospitality of my house, its sumptuous food, and the courtesy of my servants.”
“Your words ring true, most honored Laith El-Khaldun,” said Rashikh. “It is indeed a time to celebrate.”
The crowd cheered in response and the festivities began. Hours passed into the night as the various groups consumed the sumptuous feast. Meanwhile, Siraj Jiburi kept a watchful eye on Laith El-Khaldun. With Gabrielle at his side, Siraj Jiburi planned his next move.
“Why don't you get us some more fruit,” suggested Siraj, subtly alluding to Laith who was nearby.
“Fruit, yes, absolutely,” replied Gabrielle nervously before making her way to the dining table and eavesdropped on the conversation.
“Noble Talib Tahir,” complemented Laith. “The Al-Dhafir has the finest cavalry Arabia has ever seen. Truly, I was foolish to consider warring against you years before. Wisdom has proven to be a great counselor towards understanding the world the way I know now. Tell me, how are the fall harvests in the great fields of Al-Qassim?”
"Nay, Laith,” replied Talib Tahir. “Those lands no longer belong to my tribe. It is now ruled by the Fulanif as part of the terms we agreed upon.”
“Really!?” asked Laith, visibly surprised. “Your grandfather and his father fought valiantly to defend those lands in years past from invaders. Songs of their valor are still sung here in Medina. It is a pity that such rich land has been to the cattle and goat herders of the Fulanif.”
Talib Tahir’s eyes narrowed, gulping his wine hard before saying, “Absolutely. Siraj Jiburi’s constant prattling about peace muddle the warrior’s heart. Peace is kept through strength, not the chatter of women. Were we more numerous, I would reclaim what is rightfully ours from the Fulanif.”
“Indeed,” Laith agreed with a devilish smile. “Perhaps we should talk later, when the poets have retired for the night. We have much in common, as do the Saud’Ata.”
“Yes! Yes! Warrior to warrior,” agreed Talib. "
Gabrielle made her way back to Siraj Jiburi, reporting, “It doesn't look good. Laith El-Khaldun is planting seeds of deceit to harvest soon.”
“Perhaps then it is time reap what I have sown,” replied Siraj.
***
“Great Laith El-Khaldun,” announced Siraj Jiburi. “Your hospitality transcends the glory of the heavens itself. The food, the wine, and entertainment are worthy of a blessing bestowed by the most powerful of Djinn. Please accept this humble token of thanks from the Zahran.”
Laith smiled and nodded in acceptance. The grand doors of the main hall opened and emerging from the smoky mists that shot forth was a tall, statuesque woman with raven black hair and piercing blue eyes: Xena. Disguised as a dancer, Xena wore a silky blue and red outfit decorated with gold lace and a blue veil, revealing only her piercing blue eyes to the observer.
“Yes, most magnificent,” commented Laith in admiration.
Xena seductively strode toward Laith and began to dance as the musicians played on. Intrigued by her performance, Talib and Rashikh pulled back to their groups and away from Laith to acquire a better look.
“Where’s Autolycus? I haven’t seen him all night,” whispered Gabrielle.
“I don’t know. Perhaps we should,” started Siraj before being interrupted by one of his warriors.
“We’ve just received word that the main camp has been attacked,” he said.
“Attacked?” whispered Siraj Jiburi in disbelief. “By whom?”
“I do not know, my lord,” he replied. “Your elite guard is waiting below. Here is Dawuud’s message requesting your assistance.”
“I must depart at once,” said Siraj.
“I understand, Siraj,” replied Gabrielle. “We will meet you back at the inn tomorrow.”
Siraj nodded in agreement and quickly left to meet his escorting guards. Minutes later, Siraj Jiburi and his small force left Medina to their camp located beyond the city’s walls. Xena continued to dance while Gabrielle slipped away to look for the missing Autolycus.
“Excellent. Excellent, my raven-haired beauty; your beauty and grace transcend the shimmering onyx itself,” boasted Laith while clapping. “My guest of honor must enjoy this performance also. Call for him.”
A large gong sounded, and escorted in with two beautiful women at each side and on a trail of freshly laid rose petals, was none other than Joxer. Joxer’s eyes lit up in shock when he recognized the woman performing in the great hall.
“XENA!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?” exclaimed Joxer.
“XENA!? SO, AT LONG LAST WE MEET!” shouted Laith. “SEIZE THEM!”
Xena’s eyes flared wildly over her discovery as guards flooded the room. Grabbing a goblet of wine, oil, and a torch, Xena ripped off her veil, took a quick gulp and spat the wine into a quick burst of flame that threw the initial wave off-balance.
Xena let out a war cry as she back-flipped onto the dining table and kicked a guard in the face. She flipped another guard over, knocking him unconscious. More guards filled the room, and Xena made a dash for the window to escape, kicking another guard away and dodging two more.
“STOP!” demanded Rashikh. Xena turned around.
“If you leave the dullard you call a friend dies,” announced Rashikh, standing over Joxer with his scimitar at his throat. Joxer remained motionless in a cold sweat, giving an apologetic shrug. More guards entered, bringing in Gabrielle as their prisoner. Xena reluctantly surrendered Laith’s guards secured Xena, Gabrielle, and Joxer and took them away.
“I will deal with them in due time,” Laith replied, looking around to see no sign of the Zahran delegation. "Behold, noble Hanif Tawfiq, noble Rashikh, and noble Talib Tahir, we are beset by cobras! Who brought this so-called ‘gift’ to me!?”
“SIRAJ JIBURI!” roared the crowd angrily.
“YES!” shouted Laith in response. “And where is he now? GONE! Like a coward with no honor he comes as friend and unleashes a foreign witch in our land. Do you want to keep an alliance with this pig-swine? Do you, brave Rashikh!?”
“NO!” cursed Rashikh.
“Do you, mighty Talib Tahir?”
“NO!” shouted Talib Tahir.
“Then I say join me and abandon the dog Siraj Jiburi. With our cunning and our steel, we can unite Arabia and extend our kingdom belong the seas. WHAT SAY YOU!?” yelled Laith amongst the rousing ovation of the crowd.
“DEATH TO THE ZAHRANIAN TRAITORS! DEATH TO SIRAJ JIBURI!” chanted the crowd.
“And you, noble Hanif Tawfiq?” Laith asked. “Will you join us?”
“We Fulanif do not rush to war,” answered Hanif Tawfiq. “But I will give you an audience with what you offer.”
“My brothers,” said Laith confidently. “This is truly a time to celebrate. Enjoy my hospitality while I deal with the intruders.”
With a wave of his hand, two dozen more harem girls entered the great hall with more exotic food and wine.
“Let the revels begin,” whispered Laith to himself.
***
Elsewhere, Siraj Jiburi and his men rode hard back to their camp. Arriving on site, they found the area remarkably calm.
“My lord Siraj!” exclaimed a Zahranian soldier. “We did not expect you until morning!”
“What happened? Where did they attack from?” demanded Siraj Jiburi.
“Attack? There’s been no attack,” replied Dawuud, one of commanders who emerged from the camp. “Nothing has happened?”
“I’ve been tricked!” cursed Siraj Jiburi. “Get me a fresh horse and summon forty men. I must return to Medina!”
***
Meanwhile, in a dungeon in the bowels of Laith El-Khaldun’s palace, Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus sat in their call under heavy guard.
“I cannot believe you did that!!” scolded Gabrielle. “You yell out, ‘XENA,’ like that in the grand palace hall with all of his guards and assassins looking on. Couldn’t you tell that she was in disguise?”
“Okay, okay, so I messed up,” muttered Joxer. “I was invited by Laith who welcomed me as this great warrior! How was I to know that he was just using me as a means to identify Xena?”
“Because you’re stupid, Joxer,” answered Autolycus. “You let yourself get manipulated.”
“Oh, and I suppose those fancy clothes weren’t part of the way Laith tricked you!” accused Gabrielle. “You were supposed to find out what his plans were, remember?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right,” acknowledged Autolycus, looking at his clothes. “But this is real silk!”
“I’m very, very, happy for you,” replied Gabrielle, dripping with sarcasm in her tone. “But we need to get out of here! We have to save Xena before the gods know what that tyrant does to her!”
***
In another cell on the other end of the palace, Xena was immobilized on the floor, wrapped in the coils of giant python that pinned her arms at her sides and legs together. A serpent’s coil was dangerous wrapped around her neck and tightened subtly when Laith entered the chamber.
“Cute pet you have,” commented Xena. “What do you feed it?”
“Small goats, occasionally a side of raw beef, but mostly spies,” Laith answered with an evil smile. “My pet is quite well-trained. A lesser animal would have crushed you to death by now.”
“Lucky me,” Xena replied.
“Lucky? Perhaps not, for you will suffer a slow, crushing death by the serpent’s embrace as your lungs burn and heart beats no more,” warned Laith. “Your theatrics in the hall was the spike I needed to split the alliance. The Saud’Ata and Al-Dhafir support me and soon, the Fulanif as well. The Zahran will be driven from their lands and ground into dust.”
“Nice plan, but why Joxer in all this?” questioned Xena.
“Autolycus is dumb, but not dumb enough to tell me what you look like. I’ve never laid eyes on you, but I knew that you were beautiful,” answered Laith. “I guessed correctly that you would try to infiltrate in through my weakness for beauty. It was just a question of when and how; Joxer was merely my guarantee on your identification.”
“You will be dead before sunrise,” promised Xena, struggling.
“I’ve heard that before, and I stand before you,” Laith replied before leaving.
The great serpent began to slowly tighten its grip around Xena. Despite her efforts to slip an arm free, the serpent would compensate with its body, retaining its deadly grip around her. Desperate, Xena bit into the hide of the serpent, piercing its skin and drawing blood.
The serpent hissed in pain and quickly retracted its coils, releasing Xena. Xena rolled to the side and quickly got to her feet. The serpent assumed an attack stance and struck, but received a spinning kick delivered to the head from Xena. Xena grabbed an old manacle and chain from the floor, wielding the makeshift flail and struck the serpent with several blows to the head before it embedded into its flesh. Whipping its death throes, the serpent collapsed.
“I wonder how much that hide would fetch in the open market in Medina,” quipped Xena before picking the lock with a piece of metal.
***
Back in their cell Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus attempted a means of escape.
“Hey there, big boy,” offered Gabrielle “I’m feeling kind of lonely...”
“I don’t think the ‘seduce the guard into giving you the key’ technique is going to work, Gabrielle,” commented Autolycus. “Well, no offense, but your seduction doesn’t outweigh their fear of Laith’s wrath if they allowed us to escape.”
“None taken,” muttered Gabrielle with a punch to Autolycus’s gut.
“What are they going to do with us?” lamented Joxer.
“I have a good idea,” answered Autolycus, sitting down in the cell. “They’ll probably chop off my head in the public square as an exhibition, sell Gabrielle into slavery, and probably neuter you like a dog, Joxer.”
“Well that might be so bad,” commented Joxer before shrieking, “HEY! NEUTERED LIKE A DOG!? You mean they’re going to chop off my…”
“None of that is going to happen!” interrupted Gabrielle. “We mustn’t panic and need to plan our escape.”
***
Xena stealthily moved through the shadows avoiding the guards until she reached a dungeon storehouse where they kept the confiscated weapons.
“Let’s see, what have we here,” whispered Xena to herself. “Here’s Joxer’s old armor and sword, and the rucksack left by Siraj Jiburi. Lucky the guards lost interest when they didn’t find any gold in it.”
Xena opened the pack revealing her battle armor, leather boots and guards, and chakram.
“Time to keep a promise,” said Xena with a smile.
***
By this time Laith, Rashikh, and Talib Tahir were in the war room planning the assault against Siraj Jiburi and his forces. Hanif Tawfiq was a step behind them, listening intently.
“The main force of Al-Dhafir cavalry shall attack from the south...and while Jiburi is busy attempting to negotiate, my forces will attack from his flank, leaving him open for the final attack with the Saud’Ata. Within a few weeks their provincial capital will be ours,” proposed Laith.
“Well done,” complemented Rashikh. “Siraj Jiburi’s warrior senses have been dulled from his talk of false promises. The Saud’Ata stand ready."
“What of the Fulanif?” asked Talib Tahir, looking directly as Hanif Tawfiq.
“We will not raise arms against the Zahran, but you will be allowed safe passage through our lands,” he answered.
“So it is agreed....this night begins the fall of the accursed Zahran and the dawn of a new age in the Arabia!" shouted Rashikh confidently.
“Don’t count your victories before the banner falls, gentlemen,” interrupted Xena, entering the room with chakram at the ready. “Can't you see you’re being tricked by Laith? He’s using you to shatter the alliance so he can eventually take over! Laith is the devil, having you forsake your honor for his own personal goal.”
“How DARE you speak to us in such a manner, Xena,” replied Rashikh. “You are nothing more than a filthy gutter-child who got lucky and a won few skirmishes”
“Only one way to find out,” said Xena when Rashikh drew his sword. As Rashikh advanced, Xena dropped her chakram to the floor.
“I will not fight you Rashikh for I know that you are a warrior of honor and will not strike at an unarmed foe. My fight is with that venomous snake Laith,” she added.
“BAH!” scoffed Rashikh. “Die like the filth that you truly are!”
Xena stood firm. Rashikh slashed with his sword, only to be parried by the blades of Talib Tahir and Hanif Tawfiq.
“So it’s true,” said Talib, cautiously pacing towards Xena with Hanif Tawfiq. “You’ve forsaken your honor; no true warrior would strike down an unarmed opponent as such.”
“What has gotten into you two!?” yelled Laith. “Honor is the solace losers give themselves after being defeated by a superior foe. What good has the idle prattle from Siraj Jiburi been? I offer you a chance to re-shape Arabia. Will you be a part of it, or a victim of it? With your steel, Rashikh’s valor, and my cunning, even the power beyond the Mediterranean Sea will cower before us! What say you?"
“Without honor, we are nothing,” replied Talib as he and Hanif attacked Rashikh. Laith drew his scimitar as Xena kicked up her chakram and deflected the attack.
“Not bad for an old man,” Xena said, leaping into the air and onto the table. Laith responded with a quick strike, throwing a small dagger that slashed Xena's left arm.
“I’ll live long enough to see you dead at my feet, witch!” he replied.
“My sentiments exactly,” responded Xena, throwing her chakram and shattering his scimitar into pieces before returning to her hand.
“Peasant skills,” replied Laith, quickly throwing small poisoned blades at Xena. She deflected the first two but missed the third, landing in her left leg. Xena yelled in pain and dropped to a knee while Rashikh slew Talib Tahir and continued his battle against Hanif. Laith smiled and drew another throwing knife.
“The next time you have a chance to kill your foe, Xena, don’t hesitate,” Laith announced.
Xena cried out in agony, pulling the blade out of her leg and lunged forward, impaling him in the throat. Laith coughed up blood before falling dead on the floor.
“Thanks for the advice; I’ll use it sometime,” replied Xena.
Hanif proved the better fighter against Rashikh, slaying him with his sword.
Hanif Tawfiq helped Xena to her feet.
“Come, we must bandage your wound and get you out of here before the poison kills you,” said Hanif. “We’re fortunate that Laith keeps his war room isolated from the rest of the palace, but we must hurry.”
“Thank you,” said a weakened Xena.
***
Hanif Tawfiq hastily bandaged her wound and smuggled Xena out of the palace, but not before manufacturing the release of Joxer, Gabrielle, and Autolycus to his control by using Laith’s seal on a scroll from the war room.
The small Fulanif force reached Siraj Jiburi’s group that had just returned to Medina.
“Hold!” called out Siraj Jiburi. “Hanif Tawfiq of the Fulanif, are we still friend, or do we now stand against each other as foe?”
“You truly are a clown, Siraj Jiburi,” replied Hanif, signaling his men to return Gabrielle, Joxer, Autolycus, and a wounded Xena to Siraj. “Leave your politicking to others. The next time I will not retrieve your playthings from the enemy’s camp. Expect the Saud’Ata to attack you within the next few days alongside the Al-Shammari.”
With that, Hanif exchanged a final accusatory glare at Siraj before leaving with his group.
***
Four days passed and Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer, and Autolycus recovered under the Siraj Jiburi’s protection. On the fifth day Xena and Gabrielle said goodbye to Joxer and Autolycus, who sailed back to Greece. On the sixth day, Xena and Gabrielle prepared to depart. News of widespread skirmishes rang throughout the streets of Medina between the Zahran, Fulanif, Saud’Ata, Al-Dhafir, and Al-Shammari tribes as temporary alliances of convenience formed and broke with the sunrise and sunset.
Even worse, Laith El-Khaldun wasn’t even dead. Instead, Xena had killed one of his body-doubles and the real one was alive and well, commanding his forces to strike at will throughout the territory.
“I am sorry for what has happened,” said Xena.
“Forgive me first for involving you in the first place,” said Siraj. “The alliance is not broken, only changed. Another stalemate will come and with it, an uneasy peace based upon shakier alliance, but it will do.”
“Farewell, Siraj,” said Xena, riding out the gate with Gabrielle. Gabrielle appeared visibly perturbed after their departure from the city.
“Why the long face, Gabrielle,” Xena asked.
“All that time in Medina and all I got was this lousy smock,” muttered Gabrielle, inspecting the only item that she could afford in the marketplace.
“Catchy phrase, Gabrielle,” replied Xena. “You should write it on the smock and sell it in the market.”
“You think so?”
THE END