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Gabrielle always says that there's one story in everyone, just waiting to get out. I disagree. Many's the time I've had to beat it out of them.
Gabrielle says that's not always the most creative way to go about it. I disagree - I can be very creative - though whether this attempt at telling one of my stories shows that, you'll have to be the judge.
So, here it is...
****
When she ran down that grassy embankment and started chattering away at my side, all I could think was, ‘She's back'.
Now, introspection isn't usually my thing but it had become horribly clear over the few weeks she was away that I had missed Gabrielle badly. Since I know she'll eventually develop the sense to leave me again, I just welcomed her and tried not to show how much her return meant to me. Of course, being me, the easiest way to do that was to pick a fight with a sorry looking group of bandits we luckily met two seconds later. I kicked butt, and she took notes.
It was wonderful.
Of course, being Gabrielle, she'd managed to pick up another lost lamb at the Academy of Performing Bards. A rather plump young thing named Viola, who'd watched Gabrielle win the competition there and had an obvious crush on her. Viola had been burbling about an invitation she'd received for some sort of storyteller's workshop, and was travelling alone. So after several puppy dog looks, we had to escort her across country to some bardic paradise called The Muses Retreat.
Two nattering bards on a cross country trip. I figured if this didn't earn me my redemption, nothing would.
"Xena, I swear you won't regret staying for just a day or two. Just imagine it! An artist's colony where bards - women especially - are honoured and encouraged. Doesn't that sound like the Elysian Fields on earth?"
"Oh yeah. I get all tingly just thinking of it. So I'm guessing I should know this Dyspepsia?"
Both girls looked at me as if I had something dripping from my nose, but I resisted the urge to wipe and just stared them down. Finally, Gabrielle condescended to answer. "Dyspepsia has written some of the finest bardic works of the modern era. Absolute classics."
"She has scrolls in libraries! Proper scrolls! With proper spelling and grammar! A group run by an artist of her rank must be a truly... umm... artistic... umm..." Viola searched for the words.
"Group?" supplied Gabrielle.
"Exactly." The plump young woman beamed enthusiastically up at her new idol. "Her scrolls are borrowed about a thousand times a day from Athens City Library alone!"
"I can't wait to see it," I said dryly, and I meant it. Another day of travelling with Viola was making me appreciate Gabrielle all the more. The girl seemed to do nothing but talk about herself; her terrible experiences with men, how everyone in her village had hated her. How she'd been ignored and sneered at by her peers. How she'd failed to get into the Academy. How her dog had died when she was two.
Gabrielle listened patiently, while after three days of it I was trying to control the urge to rip open a few of her veins while shouting, "You want to know about PAIN???"
Just the thought must have brought an odd smile to my face, and Viola may have seen it because she actually shut up for a bit.
***
Finally we arrived at the gates of the Bards' paradise. A walled, gated and guarded paradise. Like the Fields, apparently you had to know someone to get in.
Gabrielle banged on the door and after a while the peephole slid open. One large brown eye stared balefully out at us for several long moments.
"Can I help you?"
Gabrielle gave one of her best winning smiles. "Yes, this is the bard Viola. She's received a personal invitation from the leaders of this group to join."
The eye narrowed. "Leaders? We have only one Leader."
"Dyspepsia, I know. The invitation came from one of her assistants. Errata?"
The eye looked slightly mollified. "I'll go summon her then. And you would be...?"
"Gabrielle. I'm a Bard too."
"Do you have an invitation?" the eye asked, suspiciously.
"No, but I was told that this was a place of welcome for..."
The eye snorted, and the door slid shut with a solid bang.
Gabrielle gave me one of those embarrassed smiles and said, "I'm sure once they hear about the Academy..." I folded my arms and said nothing.
Gabrielle shifted her feet nervously, bent down to read a small wooden sign tacked onto the gatepost, and paled visibly. She straightened, smiled and immediately I suspected something. "Ahh, Xena?"
"Yes, Gabrielle?" I steeled myself for the worst.
"There may be poetry in there." She made it sound like the place was infested with harpies and a cyclops or two. Which I would have preferred.
"How much... poetry?" I spat out the word.
"I'm not sure but.... Probably not too much... heh... but.," and she gulped. Deeply. "...it's probably... amateur..." Gabrielle paused, then smiled encouragingly. "You know, you could grow to like it?"
She stepped backwards at the growl that rumbled deep in my throat. "Maybe not."
***
After what seemed like years of waiting, the door was opened and a rather chubby bubbly woman came out, arms loaded with scrolls.
I hate bubbly women.
If I had found out that she was carrying poetry, this story could have ended right there.
"Oh my darling Viola! I'm ever so glad you made it here! You're going to just love it, and we are going to love you! I just know it! And just wait until you see some of the people who are already members of our little family!"
"Ahem." I don't know if she was deliberately ignoring us, but I found it hard to believe she hadn't noticed me.
She turned to face Gabrielle, and gave a full smile. "And you must be Gabrielle." I could see the effect this recognition had on my bard. The gushing continued. "The Fates themselves must have guided you this way. I'm sure that Dyspepsia herself will want to meet with you. And such good timing! Tonight we're having a poetry marathon!!"
I hadn't shuddered since I was a small child and I'd gotten caught underneath that horse with the bowel problem. "Everyone doesn't have to attend, do they?" I interrupted. At this, the woman finally turned to me and began to spread her arms wide and moved to hug me. ‘Yikes!' I was thinking, but I growled, "Don't even think about it."
My stare disconcerted her for a moment, and then the vapid smile returned. "Somebody's a little grumpy, I see."
"How can you tell?" asked Gabrielle with what seemed like real curiosity.
I shot her a quick look and asked again, "The marathon?"
The little woman stood her ground. "Dyspepsia would be terribly upset if you didn't attend."
"I think Dyspepsia would be more upset if I..." A vicious bard's elbow in my right ribs cut off that thought. Errata fluttered a bit more, and then led the way into the Retreat.
Tagging along behind the great bards, I surveyed the place. It looked like someone's idealised version of an Amazon camp. The same orderly huts, the same prepared campfires and communal cooking areas. There was even a small herd of goats, grazing in a the far corner of the camp.
I didn't like it. The place seemed deserted, even though I counted several hundred huts spread across the clearing.
Gabrielle had noticed the same thing. "It seems rather empty for such a large village," she asked. "Where is everyone?"
"Each of our members is given her own personal hut," replied our guide, rather quickly. "And there's always just so much going on around here, really it's quite rare to see anyone in them!" High pitched giggles cascaded out of her. "There are people in the Hall of Discourse, and the Oratorium day and night. Perhaps after you familiarise yourself with some of the rules, you will understand more about what we are trying to do here. Perhaps then, Dyspepsia will join us and take you personally to the Oratorium!"
Viola twittered excitedly. "I've heard so much about this place, and of Dyspepsia. Is she all that they say?"
"So much more, dear. She works so hard, night and day to keep this place going. She's the embodiment of the Muse Urania herself."
Before she could lay offerings at Dyspepsia's altar, I interrupted again. "I thought Urania was the muse of Astronomy?"
The little troll finally acknowledged that I existed, and there was a cold glint in her eyes that I hadn't seen before. "Are you planning on staying... Miss...?"
Now I don't know if was the bad feelings I'd been picking up, or just because I'd been too recently separated from Gabrielle, or just the ‘..Miss...?' but I knew I wasn't leaving one particular young and impressionable bard alone here. Gabrielle needed my cynicism. It was good for her.
I think Gabrielle sensed that I was starting to get mildly annoyed, or maybe it was the way my sword hand had started to twitch, because she jumped between us and began to babble something about how I'd sung a mean ballad in my time, but all the while Errata and I were staring each other down. Eventually the troll mumbled a "Well," and left with a reminder to keep the guest hut clean and to read the scrolls she was leaving with us. "Now, please don't touch the quills in the hut. They're just for decoration!" Errata waved gaily as she stomped out of the hut. "And don't forget to feed the bards!!" Viola trotted after her.
"At least we get fed."
There was a moments silence, until Gabrielle said, "You didn't have to stay, you know."
"What? And miss all this Great Art? Anyway, there's something odd about this place." I reached over to undo one of the huge pile of scrolls Errata had dumped into my arms with a smug smile before she'd left.
Not poetry. Rules.
Hundreds of them.
I don't really ‘do' rules. Gabrielle knows this. She raised her hands in a placating manner. "These can't all be rules. It seems like a very friendly, open place. "
"Gabrielle. Let's start with the gate. Don't you think it's a bit strange that they say ‘everyone is welcome!'" I mimicked Errata, "but they have guards and those great big spikes?"
"It's just normal security, or a sort of ‘welcome the new bards' type thing."
"Uh huh."
Gabrielle could see she wasn't getting anywhere so she sat down to really work on me. "Xena. You're always so suspicious. You just don't understand the needs of a creative community. Whatever regulations there are, I'm sure they're designed to encourage creative minds. This is probably a gag. You know how bards love to make jokes."
"I count 32 scrolls, Gabrielle. And the ink's still wet on most of them. Check if there's a rule about Warrior Princesses. If there isn't, I bet there will be soon."
***
We had barely checked out the huts when Errata was back. Pulling us by the hand. I was proud that she still had hers by the time we got to the hall, and I think Gabrielle was impressed and a little surprised too.
The Oratorium was a good sized, well built meeting place with lots of chairs, almost all of which were empty, and the few people in them were sleeping. We took a space at the rear.
Viola was still trying to get over her disappointment that Dyspepsia hadn't greeted her personally. But now she stared in awe at the Great Lady. Assuming it was her, Dyspepsia stood centre stage like she'd have to be moved from it by a landslide. To be polite, Dyspepsia was a very severe looking woman. To be less polite, she had short blonde hair and a body like a tree trunk. To be accurately rude, with her height it was more of a tree stump. At that moment, she was wearing a very warm and welcoming smile which somehow managed not to reach her lips.
Every face in the room was turned in her direction.
"So," she said, "are there any suggestions on what we can do to make our community a little more ... familiar ... to our newer members? Keeping in mind the rules, of course."
Several members shot to their feet, and Dyspepsia nodded approvingly to shouts of, "Great idea!" "What a fantastic and innovative plan!" "Dyspepsia, that's the best idea I've ever heard!" "Make the place more welcoming! I wish I'd thought of that!"
Gabrielle listened to all of this with an increasingly puzzled frown. As the calls died down she muttered to me, "But there weren't any actual ideas put forward."
I noticed several people lurking in the shadows behind us who overheard this comment and I watched with a growing sense of foreboding as the comment was passed down the ranks with a swiftness that defied belief. My hearing picked up the louder of the whispers, and it seemed to me that by the time Dyspepsia caught it, the word 'subversion' had been bandied about. It looked as if Gabrielle was about to catch it, when, very quietly, a bard stood up in the farthest and darkest corner of the room.
"Well, I know I don't usually say much in these meetings," she said rather shyly, "but I've been thinking about this. There are people here from all over the Known World, but we know so little about each other. Sometimes I feel rather faceless ... I know that isn't the intention," she hurriedly added as Dyspepsia's expression darkened, "but I was thinking about a series of Getting To Know Each Other campfire sessions. Perhaps a time when we can all meet, and tell a little about ourselves. Nothing fancy, just where we're from, what sort of things we're interested in, you know, what drew us to the Retreat in the first place ... maybe share a short portion of our work. I just thought ... well, you know..."
Silence. Dyspepsia and Errata stared at the speaker, expressionless. Some began to mutter quietly.
The bard drew back a little, her cheeks beginning to flame. As she melded back into the shadows, Gabrielle spoke.
"I think that's a great idea," she said loudly. "What about if we-"
"Thank you," interrupted Dyspepsia smoothly, addressing the air. "I think it's time we moved on to a new thread of discussion. You've given us a lot to think about and we shall certainly take it into consideration. And now, Amorata the Bard has offered to give us a reading of her work in progress, ‘Love Conquers All'. Feedback will be most welcome. Remember - feed the bards!"
There was enthusiastic applause, and a slim, profusely sweating woman stood on the stage. She looked like she might die at any moment, which held my interest. She coughed, and unfurled an enormously long scroll, coughed again and began to read. Once it was clear she was going to live, I began to get incredibly sleepy. I'd had opium in Chin that hadn't knocked me out this quickly.
One of my own snores woke me up. Just in time to catch the end of the story.
"...As Morpheus's rosy fingers clutched at the sky, they stared deeply into the fragrant, azure pools of each other's eyes and knew instantly that they were... home. They made love all night, worshipping each other's souls through the husks of flesh that were the gifts of Aphrodite, and they were, at last... ONE. The End. Thank you."
When the bard up front finally finished, there was a silence. Dyspepsia nudged Errata who jumped up applauding and cried out, "Good Job! Wonderful! You write the truth, and it speaks for itself!!!"
It was hard to tell what were echoes and what were the others' shouts of approval. "Good job!!" "Wonderful work!!" "Nice story!" "Very touching." "So poetic!!"
Gabrielle turned to me. "See, that's what a bard needs!"
"You don't find it a little creepy? All this enthusiasm for that?" I asked, waving a hand towards the stage where the grinning woman was soaking up the applause.
"A bard learns by writing and if they don't have encouragement, they don't write. She just needs some pointers," Gabrielle finished, grandly.
I indicated the stage with a smirk. "Oh, this I wanna see. Go ahead."
She frowned at me disdainfully before raising her hand and waggling it until she had the Bard's attention. "Ummmm, I noticed that your story, which was lovely, very... heartfelt, but... I don't know... to really grip the listener, sometimes it's good to have something actually happen?"
Several bards in the audience perked up, and a hum of muttering vibrated through the hall. The storyteller on stage appeared to be interested "Do you mean, like a... plot?"
Gabrielle nodded gratefully, got to her feet and somehow made her way onto the stage, blissfully trampling her way through the murmuring crowd. Warming to her theme, she continued, "Yes, and you know sometimes it's even better if your characters are distinguishable, and have names? "
Dyspepsia was exchanging heated glares with several of the older members of the group. She cleared her throat, and there was instant silence. She flung a companionable arm around Gabrielle's shoulders, and smiled that special smile again. The one that wasn't really there.
"Gabrielle? Excuse me, the points you raised are of course quite welcome, LOL, but I think this would be better discussed in the Hall of Discourse." She looked around, and frowned slightly upon sighting a curvy bard who was about to slip away. "Jaded will take you, won't you dear?"
With the air of one who was being made to adopt all the world's orphans, the indicated bard nodded. "As you wish, Dyspepsia," she intoned.
There was another cold smile from Dyspepsia before she left us, calling back, "Feed the bards!!"
Jaded sighed heavily and ushered us out of earshot.
"Did she say LOL?" asked Gabrielle. "What does that mean?"
"It means Laugh Out Loud," replied Jaded.
"But she didn't, did she?"
Jaded examined my bard. "You're Gabrielle, right? You've only been here for two hours, and you've already been sent to the Hall of Discourse. What're you gonna do next?" Jaded sounded almost admiring.
***
The Hall of Discourse appeared to have been abandoned several years before. Dust lay thickly on the benches, and tumbleweeds blew across the floor.
"Does anyone ever come here?" Gabrielle asked.
"Oh yeah, me and StoryTeller had this really intense discussion about chocolate or vanilla just a few weeks ago..." Jaded dusted off two chairs, and we sat.
"What are we supposed to do now?" asked Gabrielle, ever inquisitive.
I sighed and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Gabrielle, Dyspepsia was making a point. Let's just say ‘point taken' and go back to our hut."
Gabrielle's face dropped. "But they said to feed the bards! Didn't they like my constructive criticism? They loved it at the Academy."
Jaded glanced over at me. "She's gonna need a lot of points explained, isn't she?"
"Oh yeah," I nodded back at her.
Gabrielle rallied. "Maybe I was doing it wrong. I'll read the rules, and have another go tomorrow at the poetry marathon."
The poetry marathon. Gods, I'd forgotten about that. "How long does it go on for?" Maybe I could sleep through it.
Jaded smiled oddly. "The Poetry Marathon leads straight into the Poetry Festival. And meanwhile, there's the Daily Poetry Challenge, the Epic Poem of the Day..."
"I can see why you stick around," I replied drily.
"This place is kinda hard to leave, you know?" Actually, I didn't. "I have some good friends here, and I kinda feel obliged - someone has to look out for these newer, eager bards. A healthy dose of cynicism can be worth it's weight in gold. And besides..." Her voice, which had been fairly solemn, began to get a bit more enthusiastic. "...have you seen some of the women here? There are a few I have my sights on, and there's one from Britannia... well, I'm not giving up on her just yet. She's got a lot of potential."
"You stay because of the girls?" I asked.
"Have you heard what some of my scrolls are called? '25 Years Without' is exactly what it sounds like. With me, it's always about the girls."
***
"Good news, you wonderful people!" Errata was back, and it seemed like she was not leaving soon. "We've received your application, and you've been approved by Dyspepsia! But..."and she looked unhappily at the unopened scrolls strewn about the hut, "...you have to make sure you read the rules carefully - we wouldn't want any more embarrassing incidents, now would we? LOL!"
Gabrielle smiled and while covering her mouth said in an aside to me, "Why's she doing it too? She didn't even smile."
Errata continued. "Xena, you will be staying in hut 41, and Gabrielle, you'll have hut 44 all to yourself!"
"Why is no one using these huts?" Gabrielle asked.
The plump bard looked about and whispered, "I shouldn't be saying, but you're obviously a good person, Gabrielle. You WILL keep this to yourselves?" We both nodded. Or at least Gabrielle did. I just waited. "This one was once the hut of Madrigal, but he was banished forever for attacking the bard Cloe. And that's her hut that Xena has."
"The bard Cloe. Okay, what happened to Cloe?"
"Oh, she was removed because she was always lying to people. A horrible, horrible woman. One of my best friends."
Gabrielle blinked trying to follow this. Why, I don't know. "So if she was always lying, did you ever check to see if Madrigal had really attacked her?"
"He said he didn't, but there was a lot of proof."
"You saw the proof?"
"Oh yes, Darcia showed it to me."
Still doggedly, but tiring, Gabrielle asked, "Who's Darcia?"
"Another bard. Horrible, horrible woman."
"Is SHE still here?"
"Oh no. She was thrown out. You know, she was going about forging letters. Isn't that terrible? She used to be my best friend. But that was... before."
"Before...?"
Errata wasn't at all fazed. "Now, don't you go worrying about all those undesirable types. You'll be safe here, we're just one big happy family! Oh, just one more little thing... Xena can only stay in that hut till tomorrow, because that's when we're burning it down."
"Burning it down???"
"Well after Cloe left, she sent a message that she was dead. Dyspepsia said she had better be really dead, or she was going to kill her."
"Maybe she was just trying to get away?" I asked, thinking of starting to plan our own escape.
"Why would anyone want to leave us? We're all one big happy family! I already feel like you're a sister to me, Gabrielle." She put her arm round my bard, and my involuntary snarl was ignored entirely. "Of course Cloe's ‘death' was just more proof of what a horrible liar she was, so since she's not dead we're all going lynch her in absentia. It's lots of fun. We can blame her for the bad crops and any miscarriages... Would you like to join? Everyone who is anyone is coming!"
"How can you lynch someone who's not even here?" asked my bard.
"Would take all the fun out of it for me," I added.
"Nonsense," replied Errata. "With all the hut burning, it's just like one big barbecue! We might have s'mores!! In the meantime, remember the rules. And in case you aren't sure what they are, here are some more. These are answers to many of our frequently asked questions... until later... and remember to..."
"... Feed The Bards..." Gabrielle chorused glumly, as yet more scrolls were dumped into my outstretched arms. But I think Gabrielle noticed I only growled. Again, she tried the ‘sit down and calm down' one/ two punch.
"Now, Xena. I know that you think that these people aren't..."
Nuts to that. "These people are lunatics, Gabrielle."
"See? That's what I thought you'd say. Xena. They're Bards. Creative people. You just don't appreciate how different..."
"I can, ‘appreciate' that they are definitely different, Gabrielle. There's definitely something wrong here. I think we better be on our guard until we figure it out."
I hefted the scroll bag. Maybe the answer was in there. We divided them up and I started reading them out loud as Gabrielle scanned her pile.
"Rule One."
"Feed the Bards?"
"Yup. ‘Rule Two: No criticising the bards.'"
"Now see? I wasn't criticising, I was trying to show them something to help."
"Uh huh. What's rule Three?"
Gabrielle turned the scroll over. "There is no rule Three, Or Six. Or... Xena, half this page is whited out!"
"Not in mine. Rule Three is "Do Not Create A New Thread of Conversation."
We compared scrolls, and then looked at each other.
"Different rules for different bards?" My eyebrow raised itself sardonically.
Gabrielle waved her hand airily. "Well it's not like democracy exists anywhere, not really..."
I'd spotted something. "Dyspepsia agrees with you there, Gabrielle. Did you know only she is allowed to use Capitals in her scrolls? Rule 34."
The bard paused for a moment. "I guess that's so her messages can stand out, so that when she has important notices..."
"Uh huh."
"Xena. What they are trying to do here is important. Did you see Viola reciting? Once she got over her nerves, she loved it. Her peers cheering her on, encouraging her to be a bard. Young writers need protection, and this is a place for them to grow."
"Gabrielle, this isn't growth. Children don't always want to eat what you put in front of them, but no parent is going to fill them with only candies and crap. Sometimes you have to make them eat what's good for them." I opened the door of the hut and looked out cautiously.
Gabrielle seemed a bit worried. "Where are you going?"
I smiled. "To feed the bards."
She jumped up in alarm. "You're going to get thrown out if you're not careful..."
"I am? Gabrielle, I've faced down Titans, Ares... Death herself. You think a bunch of loony bards are gonna outplay me? No chance. In fact..." and I deliberately dragged it out. "... I bet you get thrown out."
She smiled. "Me? No chance. I fit in here. You're the Minotaur in the pottery shop."
"Oh yeah? Wanna make a wager on that?"
Gabrielle's eyes narrowed, and she smiled as she dug down into her special coin hiding place. "You betcha..." We both grinned confidently.
"Bet you ten dinars you get thrown out."
"Bet you ten dinars you do."
Gabrielle was always easy money.
***
If you want information a tavern is the place to go. This one was a little different though.
Times : 2pm-6pm, except alternate days. No Sunday drinking except Free days Under Permission of the Owner. No drinking away from tables. No impromptu recitals. No Audited Persons Allowed.
Lucky for me it was one of the few moments that it was actually open.
I waved at Jaded, who was deep in her cups at the bar and from what I could hear, was executing some godsawful come-on to the redhead sitting next to her. It was fairly clear that Jaded could use a few tips in the art of chatting people up, and I made a mental note to remember to speak with her before Gabrielle and I left this place.
Before I could join her, I felt a presence at my back.
"You're Xena, aren't you? What are you doing here? Don't you have a life?"
You know, I could get to like some of these bards. "Usually. You been a member of this place long?"
The speaker was tall, dark and very, very drunk. "Ages. From the beginning." She brushed her long hair from her eyes and shook her head. "Xena, wow .You want to know what's going on and you're going to question me, right? Are you going to give me the pinch?"
"How about if I buy you an ale instead?"
"Buy ME? You're going to buy ME a drink? Oh Gods, take me now!"
Feeling a little embarrassed, I moved us to a table in the farthest, darkest corner. She seemed to appreciate the cliche. "Gabrielle and I have been having a very interesting evening reading the rules. And comparing them."
"Gabrielle?" Her eyes glazed slightly. "Since we're asking all these questions, are you and she... you know? I mean, is she... you know? I'm not, but for her... I mean if SHE was, and if I was... am I her type or...?"
Oh Gods, not again. "Can I ask a few questions, FIRST?"
She subsided and the waitress took our order. After the server left she commented, "Ale's lousy. Watered down. Sort of a metaphor for this place, except at least if you drink enough beer you can still get drunk before you have all the pissing to do."
"Nice image. I can see why you're a bard."
"Tempura. How's it going?" The bard thrust out a shaky hand, and tried to grasp mine in a firm grip. Guess her vision must've been a little off. "Whoops! Sorry! So, back to Gabrielle again..."
"She's in the Oratorium, judging the Poetry Competition."
"Gods. Bloody poetry, good luck to her." A sudden thought must've struck her, because she brightened considerably. Or maybe it was because our ales had arrived. "Does she like poetry? I could write poetry... ya know, I've written a few stories with you guys. Have you heard of them? ‘Yeah, But With A Really Big Staff' got a lot of recognition. I'm working on one at the moment. Say, maybe you could help me with some of the technical stuff? I've been kinda wondering about the mechanics of..." She gave me a glassy eyed stare, and then shrugged. "Aw, screw that. I'll just say ya flipped." She hastily scribbled a few notes on a soggy napkin. "So Xena, what brings a gal like you to a Hades-hole like this?"
"Gabrielle."
Tempura sighed, a dreamy look on her face. "Is it true she's got... ahh, well never mind... what do you need to know?"
"I just want to get my bard out of here."
"Your bard?"
"There's five hundred bards here. I was just being clear."
"Uh huh."
I gave her a steely glare, but she didn't notice as she'd got that dreamy look again. "Is it true she's... ah, no. Don't torture me. You know, I'm really not... that Ares. Woo Hoo!! But Gabrielle... does she have a sister? That looks just like her?"
"You leave my bard alone." I tried the steely glare again. I think it worked this time. Or maybe it was the mug of ale that thwocked down onto her head.
"She won't be your bard if she stays here much longer," she responded grumpily as she tried to lick the beer off her face.
"What do you mean?"
"Bards are the most insecure people in the world. I've seen them get one boo, and never pick up a quill again But they come here and they get praised no matter what they say or write. I think their brains start leaking out."
"Not Gabrielle."
"She's a bard isn't she?"
"A good one."
"All the more reason they're probably working on her right now."
"Gabrielle will get bored without challenges. I'm betting she'll be tossed out soon enough."
"Or erased. That's their pattern now. Rules, people... they all disappear. Have you been down to the founder's Portrait Gallery? All those blank spaces on the walls. History is the only thing around here that ever gets edited."
She sagged on her elbows, then waved over to the bar for a refill. "Cloe really started this place. It was just a few of us in this abandoned village and we started inviting bards to come and live here - tell stories, learn how to be better bards, you know? Things were going fine, until the owner of the land decided he was gonna sell. We couldn't raise the money. That's when Dyspepsia showed up to save the day. Well, bards are always fighting - so competitive - and she started bringing in rules to stop it, and it worked for a while. Then the founders started to drop out. Usually after a fight with her, one at a time."
"Ah." Now, I understood. Classic military strategy. "Divide and conquer."
"Exactly. So gradually, Dyspepsia took over. And now, she and her ‘auditors' run the place like Shark Island prison. Have you seen the Rules?"
"Seen them? I'm in the latest version."
"So you see why they'd see Gabrielle as a threat? She's talented, she's beautiful... boy, is she..." Tempura sighed, and downed her ale in one. "And she wants to help people be better bards. My guess is that you'll both be audited soon. At least."
"Audited?"
She gave me another of those lop-sided grins. "Why should I spoil all your surprises?"
***
Sure enough, as I was leaving I collided with Dyspepsia. Damn woman didn't even budge.
"We've been hearing stories about you Xena, and I'm afraid we're going to have to ask that you be audited," she said.
"Audited?"
"I'm just not comfortable with you as a member and it's simply a way to ensure that you don't further upset any of the members. So Heinz here will assist you in making any statements in public."
A wall with legs stepped forward and made a grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile. I gave her a flash of teeth in return. She looked like the sort of momentary diversion I needed..
"Anytime you wish to say anything, you tell it to Heinz, and she'll speak to the group on your behalf. I find that to be a satisfactory arrangement." She turned to go; obviously she wasn't used to being contradicted.
I hate it when people turn their backs on me. Especially when it blocks out the sun. "I think a satisfactory arrangement would be if Gabrielle and I left your group of nutballs."
She turned back and smiled. "Why would you want to take a bard away from this haven, to continue risking her life when she could be safe, productive and happy here? Anyway, after some of the things you've been saying about her and this place, I think she might feel differently about you."
"What have your gossip mongers been saying about me to her?" You know, she was really starting to piss me off.
"It's more what she's said about you." She took a scroll out of her pocket, and handed it to me.
I think it was the smug smile that did it, although the feeling of absolute pleasure I had watching it freeze as my sword suddenly found itself at her throat was some compensation. "Listen you..." I hissed, but I didn't have time for this, and I didn't want to have to clean my sword again. I had to find Gabrielle.
I took off, leaving her gasping and furious behind me, cackling something about, "...I'll get you my pretty..." I swear she said something about her little dog too. The woman was nuts, pure and simple.
Of course, somehow along the way... I ‘lost' Heinz.
***
Gabrielle was in her element. Surrounded by admiring faces, her own was beaming. I felt somewhat selfish as I bulled into the room, with the intention of snatching her up and taking her away from all of this. I mean, was Dyspepsia right? Was this the place she could grow and become the woman and artist she was meant to be?
Screw that, I decided.
She looked up, saw me and smiled one of the more evil grins I have ever seen on that usually sweet face. She continued addressing her admirers. "I appreciate all of your compliments, but since I couldn't possibly judge your... works, and since I've entered myself, I think we should have an impartial judge. And Xena would be just perfect. She's always writing poetry. Never any for me, though."
There were grunts of dismay. Or was that just me?
I saw Tempura in the corner. She gave me a ‘thumbs up,' before grabbing her quill and setting to work.
About a hundred scrolls began to be pushed towards me and I felt real panic swelling inside. That damned bet! Gabrielle was going to force me to kill these idiots or quit. Good plan, I thought.
"Let me understand. If someone recites a poem, they can't be the judge?" I figured I could duck this by singing some song that Gabrielle liked. But nope. She'd covered every base.
"It has to be poetry, and original." She handed me the Poetry Competition Rules with a sweet, pure smile.
I felt the weight of the damn thing, and tried to cover my cringe. "I can't do that!"
"Then...." the bards began pushing the scrolls towards me, it was like those nightmares I had of the living dead or being trapped in a leper colony. I thought fast. Not knowing what I was going to say, I took the podium instead, if only to escape. I think it was Gabrielle's smile of assumed victory that unthawed my brain. I screwed my eyes shut, resolved to kill Gabrielle later, and began:
She demands something new
She commands "and by you"
With a manner that charms as it sways
But as much as it daunts
what Gabrielle wants
May not be what works or what plays
I took a deep breath.
NO! Give me the timeless
The ageless or rhymeless
Don't force me to show all I lack
I would rather find truths
In another man's muse
Then reveal myself as a hack.
Gabrielle was caught completely flatfooted. There was a sort of stunned silence before she began applauding furiously, and to my shock several more of the bards began to laugh and applaud as well. I was a huge hit. Moments later, I was surrounded by bards - StoryTeller was pumping my arm, Jaded was thumping me on the shoulder and Tempura was trying to get to Gabrielle.
I soaked it up. By the Gods. I was a damn bard after all!
The audience was still shouting its comments, "Great poem" "Really moving - I felt your pain!" "It even rhymed!" when Dyspepsia arrived. She took one look around, and then glared everyone into submission. It took a few moments, but with the help of her entourage, there was eventually silence and just a few cracked heads. I noticed that Viola had joined her little select group of acolytes.
Dyspepsia took the stage and cleared her throat, before thrusting a dramatic finger my way. I was still centre stage, basking in my glory.
"Our poor sister Heinz has been found hanging upside down in a tree by her... well, let's just say she'll never be able to play the lyre again."
A wag from the back shouted, "But she couldn't before!" The wag was immediately audited. One thump later, she was out cold and her auditor spoke on her behalf.
"Good story!"
She pointed to me again. "Bards! Friends!! Look at this woman!" They did. "She came to us, and asked for guidance. Support. And we took her into the bosom of our family. Succoured her. Let her read her..." she shuddered slightly, "...poetry. And friends... bards! Were we not happy to?" Cautious agreements circled the stage. "How were we to know that we nestled a VIPER in our very bosom?" There were gasps, and quite a few anxious stares at the bosom in question. It looked healthy enough to me.
"You can't mean Xena?" I shot an annoyed look at Gabrielle, who was hamming it up for all she was worth. "But she's my friend! She was gonna help me with my poetry later!"
"See, my friends! See the pernicious influence of this She-Demon!" Dyspepsia gathered Gabrielle into the shelter of that bosom. "We all know what she's done to this poor child!" Gabrielle tried to raise her head in curiosity. "Things too terrible to mention, and we have proof, thanks to Viola. But even so, we can't tell you the half of it!"
Jeers, catcalls and boos flooded the stage, led by the auditors, Viola and Errata. "We don't want your kind round here!" "This is a local Retreat for local people!" "This is no place for violent Warrior Princesses!" "And your poem sucked too!"
"Wait!" Gabrielle yelled, dramatically holding out a hand. "Xena's my best friend. She wouldn't ever hurt me. Why, only yesterday she gave me some advice on plot and characterisation in my latest story... ‘Kill ‘em all,' she said..." I glared at my bard, who seemed to be having far too much fun at my expense. She grinned back triumphantly and I knew she was already mentally spending her dinars.
"Friends, for your own good it's better that you don't associate with this woman. So, with pain in my heart, I have decided that Xena must be banished from the Muses' Retreat. Goodbye, Xena."
I could hear Gabrielle's whooping all through the short, escorted walk off the premises.
****
No-one separates me from my bard, and no-one makes me lose a bet to Gabrielle. So later that evening, I was back in the compound, pulling my heavy hooded cloak closer about myself and sneaking around.
That's how I just happened to be passing Dyspepsia's hut. She was bustling about inside, scribbling and rolling up scrolls, all the while muttering to herself. Thank the Gods for that side effect of insanity.
".... My 1000 borrows a day from the Athens City Library should indicate what a healthy turnout will... No, maybe if we..."
She turned to another scroll lying open on the desk.
"...enclosed 300 dinars, and I would be grateful if you would see to it that my borrow rate increases from Athens City Library by another... oh... 200 a day..."
Intrigued, I moved closer to the little window. She was hunched over her desk, with three scrolls unfurled, and she seemed to be working on all three at once. She sealed the scroll she'd just written, and added it to a pile on the floor.
"...with regards to renting the Symposium in Athens, my 1200 borrows a day from the Athens City Library should ensure a healthy turnout. Yours..."
That scroll was also sealed and tossed. She turned to a dog eared, half filled scroll reluctantly. It was her latest story in progress.
"Uhh... oh, any old crap'll do for this lot. Tyrea turned to.. no, wait... Tyrea turned passionately to her soulmate, and stared deeply into those slate blue eyes... or should it be orbs this time?... and sighed deeply. ‘Are you sure?' she asked..."
To my everlasting relief, she soon grew bored with that, and turned back to her next letter, which was to the arts editor of the Athens Daily Scribe, saying that she'd been ‘invited' by the Symposium to present a lecture on her life and works. Then, she started muttering to herself about a guest lecturer spot at the Athens City Academy of Performing Bards.
Thank the Gods. I had thought she was dangerous. But no. Just another megalomaniac nut trying to take over the world.
Been there, done that.
****
I got to the Oratorium, just as Gabrielle was reciting one of her better stories. "Deep, Black River" was dark and twisted, just the way I like them.
"With her sobs quieting down to soft sniffles, Emmeritus could dimly make out through tear washed eyes the sincere face of the young woman before her, and felt the warmth of her body being held so close, and suddenly she craved human contact - the touch of anybody, given in kindness or love. Not the many angry words, stinging slaps and awkward silences that her life had become over the last six months. She nodded, saw a beatific smile spread over the beautiful face in front of her, and felt warm lips press against her forehead."
The crowd was lapping it up; suckers for a happy ending, every last one of them. I couldn't wait. "You go, girl," I muttered, and waited for the big finale. Gabrielle took a deep breath, and continued.
"‘Good girl.' Were the last words she ever heard, as Sarias pushed her over the edge of the bridge and into the swirling, sucking water waiting expectantly below."
A gasp of absolute horror rushed through the gathered crowd. Gabrielle, eyes closed, smiled in satisfaction at the usual reaction. Pity she had her eyes closed really, because she was missing all the hyperventilating and sweating that was going on. Oblivious, she finished,
"Pausing to stare over the edge, Sarias then dropped the thick woollen coat from her shoulders and left it pooled on the parapet. "Bye bye, Emmeritus. You'll be happy now. You'll see - no more pain." She smiled, picked up her keys and the few coins that were scattered around and headed home."
There was a stunned silence. One hesitant hand went up. "Is that it?" the hopeful voice asked. At Gabrielle's happy nod, sharp sobs broke out over in one corner.
"Doesn't one of them wake up and find it's all been a terrible dream?" Gabrielle shook her head, and the sob volume increased.
"Then do their ghosts get together?" Again with the head shake. In the shadows, I saw Dyspepsia conferring with some of her pack.
"You mean... it's a... a... sad ending???" One final nod from my bard on the stage, and several of the audience fainted right away.
Pandemonium ensued, with various cries of, "But what about Rule 55b?" "But where's the love??" "Are you sure their ghosts can't get it on??"
"Look!" Gabrielle tried to calm them down. "I know it's sad... that's the way life is sometimes. Tragedy can teach us more about ourselves, and it's our duty as bards to reflect all of life! I couldn't change the ending... you wouldn't want an artist to change their story just to please an audience would you?"
"Yes!!"
To her credit, my bard managed to snap her jaw shut quite quickly. "Perhaps we can discuss an artist's responsibility some more tomorrow. After all, this is a place for growth and challenge. I'm sure Dyspepsia agrees?" She turned to the Leader with a hopeful smile.
Dyspepsia took her elbow, and guided her from the stage. "Yes, Gabrielle. Tomorrow. Everything will be fine... tomorrow..."
***
I happily prodded Gabrielle and waited for her eyes to open. She grumbled once, and then yawned. Good old hut 44 looked pretty well the same, and she stared at me with mixed emotions until I gave her the ten dinars. She knows me pretty well and I guess something about my phony hangdog expression tipped her off.
"How did you get into the village? Do they know you're here?"
"I don't think it matters..." and I went to the door of the hut and opened it. Through it she could clearly see the walls of the village. The outside walls. I carefully took the ten dinars back out of her hand.
"They moved my hut outside the village? I can't believe it!"
I'd been waiting all morning for just this reaction since fifteen rather timorous bards had gingerly deposited the hut several hours ago. Then they'd run off like it contained lit Greek fire So I sat down to enjoy her fuming.
She didn't disappoint me. "How could they do that?!!"
I was so sweet. "Gabrielle, these are creative people, special people..."
"Centaur farts. They're all sheep that wouldn't know a creative artist if they came and... and..."
She was slowing down, so I told her about what I'd seen in Dyspepsia's hut. Her mood changed again, to my surprise. "All that work, and for what? She's gotten so caught up in all the garbage, she's forgotten what's really important."
"The writing?"
"Right." She gave me a shamefaced grin. "It's the stories that count, not the popularity." Sometimes, the maturity of my bard surprised me. "I mean, look at you!" Then again...
"So we're not about to storm in there and demand an apology, or try to change the way they run things?"
"No. It's still sad. They had such a great opportunity to have a forum for teaching and ideas, and they're wasting it. It's obviously what they want. Maybe even what they need. But it's not really for me. I'd rather be out here living and writing stories with you."
So we did. But I have to admit as I write this down, I think about standing there in the Oratorium and having all that praise and applause rain down on me. It felt pretty good, for a moment there. Almost as good as after I've whooped some sorry son of a centaur's ass.
But I wrote the story anyway, and if anyone reads it, maybe they could send me a note saying they liked it?
But no flames.
I'm really not good at taking criticism.
The End
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