Xena Warrior Princess; Sins Of The Past

In the land of ancient Greece a woman warrior is lost to herself.
Unforgiven and shunned for past actions, old flames bring disaster to any hope she had of moving on but a new friend see's the goodness in the warrior woman that even Xena herself cannot see... but when even her family cannot forgive her what hope is there in forgiving herself?

A mix of bad-ass action, tender emotion, a story that will make you heart beat faster for more then one reason!


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8. Chapter Seven

 Xena rode along by low rocky cliffs following narrow goats’ paths, past meandering rivers and craggy hills with rainbows arching through the sky over them, finally reaching the outskirts of Amphipolis.

She pulled Argo to a stop and looked down across the fields and scattering of cottages were women were gathering crops singing the anthem of their hometown as they worked.

 Xena smiled and urged her horse into canter.

 The women did not even look up from their work as she rode past.

  Once in the village she halted Argo outside a low wooden building; and dismounted.

 She paused, a hand resting on her sword hilt at her side. She was not wearing her breastplate or back guard.

 As she walked into the building, a tavern, talk stopped and people turned to look.

 Xena turned in a circle looking around.

 It was a large room; small wooden tables were spread throughout the room attended by light wooden stools and chairs; most were occupied, candles rested on shelves along the wall, their small flames flickering, along with many woven baskets. A high wooden counter cornered off one side of the room, jugs off all sizes hung above it on many hooks, wooden mugs, chalices and bowls of fruit and bread were spread along the counter top.
 Whispers went around the room. “Xena.”

  “Xena.”

  “Right you are.”

  Then a woman walked out from the back of the building, she had long brown hair a blue eyes, her name was Cyrene.

 Xena looked at her.

 “Mother? It was not quite a question.

 The woman stepped forward quickly, drew Xena’s sword from its sheath, and leveled it at her daughter.

 People moved away from the two women.

 There was a pregnant silence as mother and daughter looked at one another, one pair of blue eyes cold, hard, the other empty of expression, watching, waiting to see what her mother would do.

 Then;

 “Weapons aren’t welcome in my tavern.”

 Cyrene slid the sword onto a table near her.

 She looked back at Xena, who had not moved an inch.

 “And neither are you.” Cyrene clanged the hilt onto the wood surface.

 “What are you doing here?”

 The older woman asked as she walked past her daughter and started gathering up empty mugs.

 “Mother, listen. The warlord Draco in marching on this valley.”

 “And you need to borrow a few men for an army right?”

 Xena’s mother turned her head not quiet looking at her daughter.

 “I can help organize a defense.”

 Xena said as her mother walked past her again.

 “Give it up Xena.”

 “I know Draco. I know the way he thinks. I know what his weaknesses are. If we act now, we stand a good chance of stopping him.” The warrior looked round trying to get them to believe her.

 Cyrene’s head snapped round.

 “You think we’re fools, we all remember what happened the last time you talked like that.” Her voice was hard.

 “You’ll not take our sons!”

 “Not again.”

 A few women said.

 “You’re all in great danger!” Xena said looking around attempting again to get the message across.

 “Even if that were true, we would rather die before accepting help from you again.”

 Cyrene picked up a wooden tray.”

 “Not this time Xena!”

  “We remember!” said some men in the crowd.

 “Go away Xena. This is not your town any more. We are not your people. I am not your mother!”

 She said as the she walked away from her daughter.

 In the background people said things like; “Never again!” and, “what are you waiting for?”

 Xena turned and walked quickly out, her face closed of emotion.

 

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