Xena's Sick

By: David Seo

At the first hint of morning, Gilead sprang up. He wasn’t the type that took pleasure in sleep; it was more like an inconvenient necessity to him, like eating, or having to bathe every day. He sat up and stroked his sword, a mighty blade forged especially for him by Hephaestus, the blacksmith of the gods, and enchanted by Zeus himself. This shining sword was his good luck charm as well as his trusty weapon.

It was still quite dark, but he could instantly make out the silhouettes of his fellow travelers, Xena, his mother, and Gabrielle, on whom he had a secret crush. The two women were still sound asleep, and exhausted; Xena still weak from the poison dart wound, Gabby (his nickname for Gabrielle) from walking all day yesterday. Being careful not to wake them, Gilead stood up and prepared to light a fire to cook last night’s leftovers: three ears of corn and some elk meat. As he walked away from the camp to grab some firewood, his mind returned to Potidaea:

There were rumors flying about a possible civil war in Rome, the largest exporter of metalwork in the known world. The people who depended on business with Roman metalworkers for a living—the artisans, merchants and traders, and of course, the rich people, the self-proclaimed connoisseurs—were all up in arms. A war in the country would mean all trade with the outside would be cut off, and that would devastate the world’s money market, putting approximately 1/5 of the world population out of work.

Xena had decided to do go to Rome as a peace diplomat and ambassador in an effort to strike up peace talks between Julius Caesar’s army and the disgruntled, mistreated, and overtaxed citizens who had risen up in a carefully organized rebellion. Gabby, however, stopped her.

"Maybe I should go, Xena. You should stay behind."

"But why?"

"Julius Caesar—the one who betrayed you—what if he still remembers you and wants you dead? You almost died once at his hands, Xena. I can’t risk losing you for good."

"…"

"…Look. I can take Gilead along, if that makes you feel better."

Gilead would have jumped at the chance, if he weren’t keeping a secret his feelings toward Gabby; instead, he merely nodded in consent.

Xena:

"All right. But watch your back. Caesar is not a friendly customer; don’t let him get the upper hand, in any way."

Gilead:

"Mother, don’t you think your worries are going a bit overboard?"

"Maybe, son, but Caesar is the kind of person that can take a human life without blinking, and actually enjoy watching his victims suffer and die. He did it to me once; if it wasn’t for that slave girl who saved me from that cross, I would not be here today."

On their way northward, the trio came across the village of Potidaea, which was under siege by a band of horseback robbers (Potidaea also happens to be Gabby’s hometown). According to the town elder, the robbers demanded that the town offer Gabrielle as the bride of their leader. The elder refused, and they gave him time to "think about it."

"These men have heard that Gabrielle here is one of the finest young women in the world…Anyway, their leader said we would have until tonight to make up our minds. If we refused, they would torch our village," the elder had explained. At the urging of Gabby, Xena agreed to stay behind and take on the robbers. The people of Potidaea were familiar with Xena, as she had saved this village once before, but were too frightened to offer any help.

"Just get going. In the days when I traveled alone, I was in worse predicaments than this. I’ll figure something out." Xena sent both Gabby and Gilead away.

Night fell, and Xena found out she was unable to handle the robbers alone and got hit in the side with one of their poison darts. Then Gilead and Gabby, who had been watching from afar and never planned to leave, rode back into the town and succeeded in driving the robbers away. The doctor of Potidaea administered the best herbs on Xena’s wound, and was just in time to drain the poison from Xena’s blood, saving her life.

The next day, Gabby and Gilead once again mounted their horses, headed toward Greece; Ares, the god of war stopped them before they even cleared the town border.

Ares:

"And where do you think you are going?"

Gabby:

"…you are responsible, aren’t you?…For the war that’s about to take place in Greece?"

Ares:
"God, you’re good!"

"But why? Must you sacrifice thousands of innocent lives just so that you can have a little fun?"

Ares, with a grin:

"Hey, I’m the god of war. It’s what I do."

"…"

"Don’t take it personally, Gabrielle. Not anyone you know is going to die."

"What?"

"You think that makes her feel any better, "god"?"

Both Gabby and Ares turned to see Gilead approaching, his sword drawn. Ares knew, as did Gabby and Xena, that Gilead the Reborn was a match for any god as long as he had his sword. The sword could not kill Ares, of course; the only thing that could kill a god was the Hine’s Blood Dagger. Still, Ares did not like tangling with Gilead’s sword.

"I see we’re having a little get-together here, so I’ll just come back another time. And you, kid," said Ares, pointing a finger at Gilead, "don’t ever go around thinking that I, the god of war, am afraid of you. It’s my father (Zeus) I don’t want to tick off. You just watch your back, mortal, because one day, when you aren’t looking, your head will not have a body."

Ares disappeared, and a still weak Xena wanted Gabby and Gilead to get going. The two refused to leave Xena’s side, however, as Xena still required extensive nursing; the trio ended up staying in Potidaea for another day. When the robbers returned that night, Gilead made sure they would never bother anyone again by ending their leader’s existence; then the underlings fled.

So they had been on the road for two days now, heading toward Rome, with Xena still not fully recovered, and Gabby bothered by her seasonal allergies. As Gilead roasted the ears of corn and cooked the elk legs, Gabby stirred first. She got up and stretched, then sneezed. Gilead smiled at her.

"G’morning, Gabby."

"(Yawn) Good morning."

"Care for something?"

"Thanks, but in a while. I need to wash this face to get the eyes open."

Gabby rose and started down to the river, almost falling over a log. Gilead quickly ran over and caught her.

"Whew…better watch that log. I don’t want mother to do the same thing."

Gabby, by now wide awake:

"Thank you!"

Gilead smiled.

"Did that wake you up? I imagine it did."

"Yes. But I’m gonna go down there anyway."

"All right. I’d better go watch over mother."

Gilead came back and resumed his culinary duties. As he was taking the rare elk steak and rolling it in the fire until it was well done, he thought about Gabrielle: she was certainly beautiful, no doubt about that; she was also the spiritual leader of this group, the one with the peace of mind, rationale, and strategy. No female in his life had made his heart jump as much as Gabrielle did. She was so…

Gabby interrupted his train of thought.

"Hi. I’m back. Now I’m hungry."

"Appetizer," he said, as he handed Gabby an ear of corn. "Not much, but it’s the only one we’ve got."

Gabby flashed a smile, sneezed, and received the corn.

Gilead put one sizzling steak on a clean parchment to cool, sprayed some salt on it, and started on another corn. His heightened senses were telling him that Gabby was watching him. She was full of curiosity on how exactly Solan, Xena’s son, was reborn after his death at the hands of Callisto and Hope, but she had never gotten the chance to ask.

Gilead pretended not to notice by looking intently at his mother. Xena certainly was an attractive person: tall, slim, with long black hair and clear blue eyes. Gilead, for a moment, amused himself by wondering how many men had attempted to "pick her up" during her lifetime. He knew that this woman, his mother, had loved at least one man in her life: Barius the marauder, his father.

Gilead reached over and unhooked his mother’s chakram. He studied the intricate patterns on the disk-weapon and was twirling it in his hands when Gabby called out:

"Gilead."

"Hmmm?"

"…I’ve been wondering…for a long time now actually…"

"…"

Gilead said nothing, just to see what exactly Gabby would say.

"…How did Solan get to be the Gilead sitting in front of me today?"

Gilead smiled at her.

"…"

"I mean, the gods decided to revive you, yes, but why?"

"All right. I’ll tell you everything. …When I was the baby Solan, mother first gave me to the Centaurs to raise; you know that part, right?"

A nod.

"…Barius, as bad as he was, was still my father, and I could not forgive my mother—of course I had no idea that Xena was my mother at that time—for abandoning me just after my father had died; now I was no different from a complete orphan. Not that I blame the Centaurs; they were wonderful parents. The Centaur race really loves life, not any god, person, or a sacred thing but life itself. Each day would be spent celebrating and reveling in the beauty and majesty of the world: the lush green forest, the vast blue oceans, the limitless sky…and I must say Caliapus and his family that raised me was more loving and caring than any human family I’ve been in contact with. They were childless, you know, and they poured—literally, poured all their love on me."

Gabby had to smile. Gilead continued:

"I soon began calling them "papa" and "mama"; they absolutely loved it when I called them that.

"Then Callisto and Hope came about when I was twelve years of age."

At this moment Gabby froze. Gilead, sensing this, hesitated to go on. Gabby was obviously still feeling guilty about not doing away with Hope when she had the chance, and the whole business with Solan’s murder.

"…I was a happy, pampered, well fed, and innocent dumb little boy. I had no way in the world from escaping death on that day, as you could have imagined."

Gilead stopped to lay the brown roasted corn down next to the still hot steak, and took a drink of water.

"I’m so sorry about what happened on that day," mumbled Gabby with downcast eyes.

"Don’t be. If what happened on that day did anything, it only hastened the reunion between mother and I."

"True, but what if the gods hadn’t decided to revive you?"

"Ah, Gabrielle, but they did! Remember the Fates, Gabrielle. They oversee the destinies of all that live. Mine was that I be reunited with my mother in this new and strong body."

"But your mother…poor Xena nearly lost her mind on that day…"

Gilead put a hand on Gabby’s shoulder. After a brief pause, he went on:

"After I ‘died,’ I spent approximately a year roaming the world as a spirit, seeing the world. I saw many things that shocked my naïve little soul; murder, incest, thievery, war…by the time the Fates called my soul to Mt. Olympus, I was a tortured and battered, but still young, soul. I did not know how to interpret all the things I had seen; yet it had all made my mind cynical somehow.

"I do not remember why the gods decided to give me a new life; all I remember is that I—rather, my soul—had actually been to Mt. Olympus (how many mortals do you know have such a thing to boast about?). They had erased my memory about my stay there, and––"

Gilead put his mother’s chakram down and pulled out his shining sword.

"—This sword. It was forged for me by Hephaestus, the blacksmith god. Zeus and Hera then enchanted it with their own powers. With this sword, I can challenge any immortal besides Zeus and Hera; even Ares, the god of war, cannot take me lightly as long as I possess it."

"So I’ve seen."

Gilead grinned at Gabby.

"Then I received training from Athena in the ways of wisdom and of the warrior, while the Muses somehow accelerated my growth until I was equivalent to the age of eighteen. They also gave me superhuman abilities: I could see well in complete darkness, and could see into the past. I became immune to mortal diseases and sicknesses; they also gave me a "sixth sense," so to speak.

"Athena told me before I descended the mountain that force should be used as the last resort. Then Aphrodite gave me a kiss; I think, at that moment when Aphrodite kissed me, I became "innocent" again, like the twelve year-old Solan once was. I had not forgotten all that I had seen of the human world, but I was a tormented soul no longer. I had relearned to love, to celebrate life, and rejoice in the day-to-day victories of the human spirit, like the Centaurs. I believe that is why I live this life now: to ensure the triumph of the human spirit, in myself as well as others."

"(Achoooooo!)…So they did not tell you why you were brought back to life?"

"No. Every time I asked, they would punish me."

"‘Punish’ you? How?"

"For example, they would make me stand in the rain for forty-eight hours non-stop. Or force me to fight a tiger with my bare hands."

Gabby was dumbfounded.

"…Is that where you got that scar?"

"Yep."

After a pause, Gabby changed the subject:

"So…why aren’t you reluctant to kill? I mean, if you really love and value life, did you really have to kill the leader of those raiders back in Potidaea?"

Gilead pretended to look offended. Gabby quickly corrected herself.
"Don’t take what I just said the wrong way, it’s just that your method of resolving conflict is one that I cannot understand."

Gilead:
"I understand that you refuse to take a human life, under any circumstances, and can’t understand my logic; but I believe this: that whatever happens, happens. If someone dies tonight, killed by being run over by a horse, so be it; that was his or her destiny. If I have to kill someone—in self-defense of course—then so be it; that was his destiny, to die right there, and mine to kill him. If I get killed today, then so be it as well."

Xena’s son had a cold, ruthless side to his nature. Gabby could not understand how two such conflicting personalities could exist simultaneously in one mind. But then, Gilead/Solan was not "normal," in the sense that one is born of his or her mother, then grows, one day at a time. She wondered if Gilead’s growth being accelerated to reach eighteen years in one year somehow affected his mind.

As if he had been reading Gabby’s mind, Gilead spoke:

"The gods do not make mistakes, Gabrielle."

Gabby nearly jumped out of her skin.

Gilead took another gulp of water and leaned back comfortably on the tree he was reclining on. The fire was dying, but Gabby grabbed some more wood and finished the cooking. She had finished her breakfast during Gilead’s monologue, and had already washed her mouth with salt water.

It was still very early in the morning, but the sun was rising steadily. Gilead could feel the life, the precious life, in the earth, and in the air. He could feel the birds, the worms, the flies, and the moths beginning another unaware day in their hopelessly ignorant lives. That was the one common thread in the lives of mortal creatures; ignorance. As much as Julius Caesar, or any other king or philosopher thought they knew, they could never see the whole world, the big picture, as the gods did. Each day—no, each moment—of the mortals’ lives were lived out precariously, not knowing what to expect in the very next second. Then they went to bed at night, and breathed a sigh of relief; getting their minds off the unknown, and relaxing before they had to face a new day come sunup, another day filled with surprises.