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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13. Chapter Twelve

The short poles under her feet started to roll off the end of the scaffolding as she struggled to keep her balance.

 The archers raised their bows, arrows at the ready.

 Xena’s mother moved forward in the crowd to see better, what was happening.

 The warrior was now balanced on one short pole, which was precariously tying to role from under her.

 She began smashing the poles under Draco’s feet he wobbled backwards.

 Xena jumped, the short pole rolled off, she landed, her legs wide, feet resting on the long poles supported by the wooden pillars.

 The warlord was quickly losing his balance, the short poles rolling from under his feet. He jumped, turning a small somersault and landed as Xena had.

 He attacked, letting out a breath with each strike. “Shya!”

 The warrior blocked his strikes, one two three four.

 She swept the staff at his head, he leaned out of the way, and swept his staff at her head in return, she ducked.

 Xena pushed his staff in a half circle again.

 “Rrrgh!”

 They both jumped right, each now balancing on one pole.

 Draco struck overhead, Xena blocked. He struck the same way repeatedly. Putting his full strength behind each hits. On the fourth blow, the pole beneath Xena started to crack from the sheer force and direction of the blows.

 The warrior glanced down at the crack.

 Draco smiled and resumed his onslaught.

 Two more blows and the crack became a large splinter bending under her weight.

 Three more and it gave way, Xena dropped towards the ground.

 Her staff caught on two pillars, her feet swinging less than a foot above the dirt floor, her hands holding tightly to the suspended staff.

 The archers pulled their bows taught, and aimed.

 The breath caught in her Cyrene's throat.

 Sounds of dismay came from the villagers.

 Draco stood over her and brought his staff down on her knuckles.

 “Why are you doing it Xena?”

 He whacked her other hand.

 “They’re sheep!” His voice was angry, frustrated.

 Xena clenched her jaw as he cracked at her fingers again.

 “You’re going to the die for them, and they despise you!”

 He drew back for another blow.

However, as his staff came down, Xena swung her legs up and caught the end of it between her feet; she kicked forward still holding it between her boots.

 Draco was still holding the other end with both hands. The butt hit him directly in the face.

 Xena swung backwards and up into a somersault that took her over Draco’s head.

 “Iylylylylylyly!!”

 She landed behind and to the side of him.

 Their were cheers from the crowd.

 He blocked her overhead strike backwards then turned to deflect the next blow.

 The warlord was on the defensive, blocking the next two strikes as his balance on the long pole started to fail him.

 He turned and tried to regain it by walking on the pillars, but he reached the last one and standing on one foot began to wobble.

 Xena moved forward, anticipation on her face.

 The pillar wobbled some more, Gar looked nervous.

 Then just before it toppled from under him, Draco stepped forward and onto the head and shoulders of the crowd.

 Many sounds of discomfort came from people as Draco walked over the villagers; he stopped each foot resting on the turbaned head of two men.

 The warlord waved Xena forward, a smirk on his face.

 “Come on Xena, walk on me, you can have my shoulders.”

 One village man offered.

 “I’ll help you Xena.” Another said.

 The dark haired warrior launched herself into a somersault, she landed on the first villager’s shoulders, he teetered slightly then found his balance under her weight.

 Wood met wood; they exchanged furious blows, neither getting though the other’s defenses. The crowd urging Xena on.

 Draco moved closer, walking on the peoples’ heads.

 Still no one at gaining the advantage.

 Then the warlord hit one of the men Xena was using for balance in the chest, a dirty move.

 Xena spun on one foot- twisting man under hers’ turban over his face- and kicked  

 Draco in the chest with the other. She regained her balance with one foot on the man’s head the other on his shoulder, the villager pushed the cloth from his face. The warlord stumbled backwards, struggling to see over his shoulder, as he used more people try and balance himself.

 Gar moved forward ready to catch the warlord if he fell.

 Draco’s arms wind milled frantically, he fell backwards, towards the ground.

 Gar caught him and pushed him back up, Draco turned a somersault and landed back on two men's heads.

 Xena turned and one handed cartwheeled away from Draco, using a villager woman’s head, and came to rest on the first man’s shoulders.

 The warlord came after her on the offensive.

 Gar backed into his place at the wall. Gabrielle glanced at him.

 Block, block, strike, strike, block, block.

 Then Draco’s eyes dropped to the villager under her feet.

 Xena saw and quickly blocked the blow aimed at her supporter’s face.

 Then she aimed for the warlord’s feet, hitting hard and making him step back. She looked at him for a second- her jaw set, her expression determined- then continued to strike his feet, forcing him to back up.

 One, two, three. Following him across the heads and shoulders of the crowd.

 Draco lost his footing, arms waving he leant backward.

 Gar moved to catch him.

 Gabrielle stuck her foot out, tripping the ginger haired man. He fell flat on his face.

 The young woman smiled to herself.

 Draco wobbled more, now standing on one man’s head and shoulders, pushing the villager’s hat down over his face.

 “Uugh, arrgh.”

 The villager struggled to stay upright.

 Xena placed her staff on a woman’s head, and jumped forward using the staff to support her and using both feet kicked the warlord in the chest.

 

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