The Petal of the Rose

by LJ Maas

  "Gods, that tastes good." He had to practically screw up his face to say it, but he took his eyes away from mine and hurriedly muttered, "Thanks."

  "You're welcome," I replied. I didn't want to tease him or make a great deal of fuss over the simple courtesy he was extending me. I simply hoped that if I treated his good progress matter of factly, it might become second nature to him.

  "Kuros says that your body will heal in no time at all. The worst is the first fortnight until all the swelling goes down. Actually, it's the swelling underneath your skin, which causes most of your pain. The medicine will help with that." I tried to make some pleasant conversation to keep his agreeable mood up.

  "He says I might not be able to hold a sword again." It seemed to pain him to say it.

  "I have every confidence that you will, Solan," I answered quickly. "I have a friend that I have asked to travel from Northern Greece. His name is Yu Pan and he is a healer of considerable skills."

  He swallowed his food and looked down at the hand, wrapped in bandages and splinted with willow branches. It was so swollen it was hardly recognizable as a hand.

  "I'm not sure it will ever be the same."

  I expected his tone to be harsh or bitter, but what I heard was something different. His expression, as he examined his once whole hand, seemed partly that of regret over having fought in the first place. I thought I also caught a glimpse of awe; perhaps wonder at the strength that could have crushed the bones in his hand like mere blades of grass.

  "Can he fix crushed bones?"

  "He can if you believe he can," I answered him.

  "So, all I have to do is think about getting better and I will, eh?" he asked. I noted the hint of sarcasm.

  "It's an ancient healing art, practiced by too few these days. Although, in the lands to the far east, they think us uncivilized for our healing techniques. I've seen the healing arts performed in many different lands, Solan, and not all of the ways that are different from our own are to be ridiculed. They're merely different."

  What lands?" He seemed suddenly interested in what I had to say.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "That you've visited. What lands?"

  "Oh," I smiled at his eagerness to listen now. "Well, I lived in Persia when I was a child. I spent a number of years in Chin, Egypt, and Gaul."

  "You've been to Gaul? Are the hills as green as they say? In Egypt, do the kings really have monuments that reach to the heavens? Did you ever see the black powder they use in Chin?"

  He appeared to be as excited as a child would be, and I realized that in many ways, he was a child. I'm sure his adopted father tried to raise him right, and I was positive it had little to do with the fact that they were centaurs, or even male. I've known some men who were more capable of nurturing children than some mothers. I believe it was because they were a race of warriors. The warriors of the world keep us safe, and our lands protected, but most of them are not equipped with the abilities to be nurturers and caregivers to youngsters. I laughed, not in making fun, but at his sheer enthusiasm.

  "It's just . . . well, I've never been away from Greece." He seemed embarrassed at the admission.

  "I probably would have always stayed here myself if I hadn't been captured by slavers. To answer your question, though, yes, the grass is as green in Gaul as they say. The hills roll along endlessly, bitter cold in the winter season, though. They actually cut up chunks of grass and earth, dry them, and burn them later for heat.

  Egypt was beautiful. The Nile River would flood in the spring, leaving all the silt and soil on the banks as the water receded. By the time the season came for planting, the land along the river was full of all the nutrients the flooding left behind. The kings there are called Pharaohs, and yes, some of the monuments they created in honor of their dead truly reach high into the sky. I never saw so many slaves in all my life. Their stone monuments are, quite literally, cemented together with the blood from tens of thousands of slaves who become trapped underneath the limestone as it's set it in place.

  I did indeed see the black powder in Chin. I never saw it used in battle, but on many occasions, I saw it used for entertainment. They called it yanhuo, or smoke and fire. I never learned how they wrapped them together, but it seemed a particularly dangerous, yet artistic craft. They mixed the black powder and wrapped it tightly in parchment, allowing room for a fuse. Then, they would tie the rolled parchments to a bamboo stick and stick it in the ground. When they lit the fuse, the package would shoot off into the sky, exploding into a burst of color. During the day, they only used yanhuo that made loud noises, but at night, the display was spectacular. When they would explode, it looked as if you shot an arrow into the sky, and when the arrow hit a star, a million tiny sparkles would fall to the ground."

  I realized I was reminiscing inside my head, but when I came to my present surroundings again, Solan was listening intently to my every word.

  "Well, anyway, I'm sure you will travel to all the places you desire."

  "You think this friend of yours can really heal my hand?"

  "As I said before, I know he can, but you have to believe he can," I answered.

  "How does he do it? Is it just a trick?" He asked, still somewhat skeptical.

  "I suppose it depends on what you consider a trick to be. It isn't a joke, or a deception. He heals through a person's Qi [pronounced ch'i]. We all have an energy inside of us, but most of us don't recognize that inner energy. As humans, we all have four parts to our self. We are comprised of mind, body, thought, and ch'i."

  "Aren't thoughts the same as your mind?" He asked a serious question, and I admit that it surprised me.

  "The mind exists for everyone, but our thoughts live inside our mind. Just as this mug holds water," I pointed to the cup on the table. "The cup is your mind and the water represents your thoughts. To be whole all four parts of our self must be well. If your mind is bothered by something, then healing your body alone won't make you healthy."

  "And you think this works?"

  "I know it does. All I ask is that you give Yu Pan a chance," I answered.

  "Sure, what've I got to lose? I won't be dancing anytime soon, so my social calendar's pretty open."

  I laughed at his dry humor. Yes, like mother like son, indeed. "What would you like to do now? Would you like to sleep for a bit?"

  "Gods, no! I feel like I'm sleeping my life away. My mo--the Conqueror says you can play King's Men."

  I caught the slip he made, and I was convinced he was about to use the words, my mother. My eyebrow arched as I thought about why Xena would tell him that.

  "Yes, I do play."

  "Well, then, let's get a board in here," he said, much too enthusiastically. "The Conqueror says you're pretty good."

  "Oh, she did, did she?" I had the uncanny feeling that Xena thought Solan might play the game in exactly the same manner as his mother. I had to smile, for it was true. Warriors all played the game the same way.

  "Very well," I answered. I went into the other room and rummaged through the standing cabinet. I returned carrying a lightweight board and wooden box of pieces back to his bedside.

  "I want to warn you right off, I'm pretty good at this game. I just don't want to hurt your feelings too bad," he smirked.

  "I'll try to keep up," I replied, setting the pieces in place. I was planning the ways in which I would make my lover pay for this.

  End Addendum to the Lord Conqueror's Manuscript

  from Queen Gabrielle of Potidaea

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the afternoon dealing with the local ruling officers of the village. It was a busy, yet tedious day. What with the few candlemarks of sleep I gathered last night, I nearly fell asleep once or twice. I heard that Gabrielle had spent the entire afternoon with Solan. It was a testament to either Solan's ability to behave decently, or simply Gabrielle's superb forbearance.

  I knocked on Solan's door before entering, but when I opened the door, what met my eyes did not m
ake me happy. Solan lay in bed with a scowl on his face and simply glared at me as I entered. Gabrielle knelt beside the bed picking up pieces of a King's Men game board, which looked as though they'd been tossed about.

  "What have we here?" I asked, mustering up as innocent an expression as I knew how. If looks could kill, or even maim, I'd be writhing in agony on the floor with the daggers Gabrielle was shooting at me.

  We both looked up at Solan at the same time, and I couldn't help but see the guilt written across his features.

  "She cheats!" He blurted out.

  I knew I shouldn't have, but I just had to. I laughed. In fact, I laughed so hard I had to lean against the doorframe just to keep myself upright. Gabrielle smiled and continued picking up the game pieces, shaking her head back and forth. Solan just kept glaring at me, but still I laughed. Mostly I laughed because for the very first time, I was seeing myself, as Gabrielle must occasionally view me . . . as a spoiled, pouting, petulant child.

  Oh, Gods, I thought as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Some days it's good to be the Conqueror.

  CHAPTER 10

  HE HAD REFLECTED, HAVING TIME TO PAUSE

  "MMMM, THIS FEELS so nice." Gabrielle murmured.

  The day was beautiful. I'm sure Persephone was having one last fling before leaving Demeter, and heading down to the realm of Hades, her husband. The air was warm, and the sky was sunny. Gabrielle and I decided that the Empire would have to exist without us for at least half the day. Delia packed us a basket, and I had Tenorio saddled for the two of us. Well, that wasn't counting the half dozen Royal guards who strategically placed themselves around us. They were discreet, but it could still be disconcerting, never being allowed to be alone.

  "I'm glad you think so, love." I leaned back against a well-placed tree, content to hold Gabrielle in my embrace.

  It had been a fortnight since Solan's injuries and Gabrielle's days were filled with overseeing the young man's recovery. His broken bones mended, his bruises faded, and as unbelievable as it was, his manner improved, albeit it only slightly. Make no mistake; frankly, he treated the servants in the castle better than he did either Gabrielle or me. It wasn't that he treated either one of us terribly. He regarded us with a certain civility, a tolerance. He accepted our help and companionship, but it was as if he held himself back. There were times when he and I spent time discussing points of philosophy, or war stratagems, when I would find myself genuinely enjoying his company. He could be intelligent and amusing, as well as dark and brooding. Nevertheless, it was with Gabrielle that he seemed to share the most intimate talks, while at the same time keeping a carefully placed chasm between them.

  I would watch them walking in the rose garden below the window of my private study. Actually, Gabrielle walked; Solan limped behind with a crutch Kuros fashioned for him. The young man refused any assistance from Gabrielle, and she quickly learned to allow him his way in such obstinate behavior. I would catch glimpses of the young man, watching from the window above him. There were instances when I would discover him looking at Gabrielle, when she was unaware of the fact, and he would look as though he were about to cry. On other occasions, he would gaze upon the small blonde with what could only be described as rage.

  Some of these revelations I shared with Gabrielle, but a few I kept to myself. I couldn't explain Solan's behavior, and that bothered me. I'd spent many seasons as a student of human nature, yet still I couldn't ascertain the motives behind his actions. There had to be more, though. Perhaps it was simply the paranoia, which I passed down to my son, but I was unable to believe that there wasn't more to Solan than met the eye. I was quite convinced, as a matter of fact, that whether the boy knew it or not, there were deeper emotions ruling his thoughts.

  "If I get any more comfortable, I won't want to ever leave this spot," Gabrielle said.

  "And that would be a bad thing, how?" I returned.

  She laughed at my teasing. Gods, how wonderful to hear. When I listen to the sound of Gabrielle's laughter, I wonder why I denied myself this simple pleasure for all these seasons.

  "Why don't we go to the temple together, Xena?" she asked me.

  I knew that Gabrielle made a visit to Athena's temple each and every day. While I prayed, every candlemark some days, I hadn't been inside the temple since its dedication many seasons before. Quite frankly, I was halfway afraid that the walls would come crashing down on me should I cross the threshold. Of course, this was Gabrielle asking me, and the Gods know, she asked me for precious few things.

  "All right," I answered. "Shall we walk or shall we ride?" I asked, rising and helping her to her feet.

  She glanced high up at Tenorio's back, then back at me. She brushed the grass from her skirt. Although I was slowly teaching Gabrielle to ride and she was becoming quite good, her concern over heights still made her preferred mode of transportation her own feet.

  "Walk," she said decisively, holding out her hand to me.

  It wasn't far, and in half a candlemark, we were at the entrance to Athena's temple. Gabrielle had gathered an armful of flowers on our walk, and she moved to the altar. She placed her offering on the brightly polished obsidian. Many Gods would have been offended at such an offering, but Gabrielle brought such a gift every day. Now, I happened to know that Athena had a penchant for fresh cut flowers, but few were the mortals who knew of the Goddesses weakness. I often wondered how Gabrielle discovered the fact, but I never asked her. It simply seemed rather personal.

  Gabrielle turned to me, as if waiting to see what I would do next. It suddenly felt rather close within the small temple, and I inconspicuously looked around me, nervously debating the solidity of the structure. I decided to simply take the Minotaur by the horns, and stepped forward. Hearing neither the creaking of the walls, nor the cracking of the ceiling, I presumed it safe enough to continue. I reached for the leather pouch tied to my belt. Tugging it free, I tossed the full bag of talants onto the stone slab. Gabrielle stood there beside me, looking up at a marble statue, carved in an amazing likeness of Athena.

  "Has she ever come to you, little one?" I asked.

  "No," she answered, turning toward me with a wistful smile. "Some day she will."

  I returned the smile, simply enjoying Gabrielle's complete faith in her God of choice. Gabrielle stared at me and as the moments passed, I began to realize that something more was expected of me. She motioned toward the altar with her eyes, and it finally came to me.

  "Ohhh! You want to . . . uhm . . . be alone to . . . say a few . . ." I trailed off in embarrassment. "I'll just be over here." I said as I backed into the foyer.

  I turned the corner, but not before I saw Gabrielle sit down on the steps that lead up to the altar. When I turned away, to afford her some privacy, I nearly ran down the Goddess herself.

  "Hera's tits! Do you have to pop in like that? Couldn't you be a little more gradual about it?" I exclaimed.

  "Xena! I'm surprised you still recognize me." She said in that patient tone of voice she always had.

  I felt properly rebuked, so offered up one of my more charming smiles. "You don't exactly have a very forgettable face," I answered, but I'm afraid my eyes strayed slightly lower than her face.

  "Xena, are you flirting with me? Have you already forgotten who you came her with… your little one?"

  At my pet name for Gabrielle, I was suddenly flustered and embarrassed. "Uh, no . . . no," I protested, backing up.

  She chuckled in that same soft voice. "You've changed, Xena."

  "I hope you consider that a good thing," I answered.

  "You tell me," she parried.

  I grinned and thought of Gabrielle, knowing full well the Goddess could, and would, read my mind. "Yes," I answered. "Yes, I think it's a very good thing. I must have the favor of Olympus, Athena, to have found one such as her."

  "My dear friend, you mortals forget so quickly. Xena, did you really think your life was your own once you asked me for my patronage?"

  I could feel my
features tightening slightly. "I accept the inclusion of you in my life, Athena. I willingly went to you, and asked for your benefaction, it's true. For some reason, however, the Olympian Gods have felt free to interfere in my life since the day I was born. I don't know why, and at my age, I don't think I want to know. Realize this, however. I won't allow anyone, mortal or God, to harm Gabrielle."

  "Easy, now, my friend. Xena, I once promised you that I would make you the greatest ruler the world has ever known. In doing so, I put measures in place, manipulating not only the happenstances in your own life, but in many of the lives that surrounded you. The people you lived with, even those who have grown to love you, as unlovable as you always thought yourself."

  I listened to her words, at first touched by the measure of concern this Goddess seemed to have had for my own welfare. Her final sentence, however, caused my anger to flare.

  "You?" I asked. "You had Gabrielle's fate in your hands also?"

  "I did," she answered more slowly, almost painfully.

  "Then it was you who allowed her life to take the turn it did?" I accused from between clenched teeth. I could feel my fury rising.

  "Your anger is justified, Xena, but misplaced. I have done everything in my power to protect that girl. Her entire life, up to this point, has been a mystery, even to me. Each and every time I sought to put her life back on the path the fates foretold for her, a force would come along to undo all that I had done. Unfortunately for Gabrielle, I've been playing catch up with her for most of her life. Someone, or some thing, always seemed to be one step ahead of me."

  "Another God?" I asked, incredulous at Athena's tale so far.

  "I don't see how. Things aren't as wild on Olympus as they were in the days of your youth, Xena. My siblings are more content to watch humans than to interfere."

  "She deserved better than the fate she was dealt." I pointed out.

  "I agree. Gabrielle is more than even she knows. At one time, we all fought to be her patron. Apollo sought to teach her his healing arts, Hades, the art of discernment. Ares wanted to teach her the art of war--"