"Story Time" is copyright © 1997 by Morgan MacLeod, all rights reserved. Do not distribute, archive, or repost without prior permission from the author.

Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA/Renaissance Pictures. Some characters herein are also based on situations belonging to Paramount. All these characters are used here in a strictly non-profit manner, and their appearance is in no way intended to infringe on the trademarks of MCA, Renaissance Pictures, or Paramount.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she demanded of Rillian.

"I tried," responded the target of her ire, face and voice both schooled to total innocence. "You just snuggled closer to Xena and mumbled at me. If I'd shaken any harder, I would have woken Xena, and she needed the sleep. So I just stayed up."

"I don't believe you. I'm not that hard to wake up."

Rillian shrugged. "What's done is done. If it happens again, I'll try harder to wake you."

"You'd better." She stretched, and then stopped short, as the implications of Rillian's other comments hit her. She'd been holding onto Xena in her sleep. From her position behind Xena, she watched her closely for some moments, looking for any sign that Rillian's words had meant something to the warrior.

As if on cue, Xena turned to look at her. "Gabrielle, you'd better hurry up and eat. We have to get moving soon." She stopped, and peered closely at the bard. "Are you all right?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little stiff." She stretched again, with an exaggerated motion.

"Well, no wonder, it was pretty cold last night." Rillian observed. "I assume that's why you were holding Xena so close. Body heat, you know."

"You were still holding on when I woke up this morning," added Xena, wishing in silence that it had been anything other than the cold that had brought Gabrielle so close to her that she could still smell her scent in her own dark hair. "It was still cold, too. No wonder you wouldn't let go of me."

"That must have been it." Gabrielle laughed, and carefully looked away from Xena's penetrating blue eyes. "I don't even remember it."

Rillian shot a quick glance at both Xena and Gabrielle, then smiled with secret mischief to herself. "Come and eat. As Xena says, we have to move soon."

For most of the morning they pressed on down the mountain side, Xena walking point, with her eyes darting in all directions. Argo followed her, with Gabrielle beside her, eyes moving between the sky above her and the ground beneath, and Rillian took the rear, as alert as the others for the slightest sight or sound of danger. Today they travelled quietly, lest conversation cover the sounds of the creature approaching, and they travelled in haste, hoping to make the village below by nightfall.

As they wound further down the slope, the path they trod grew wider and opened up more and more into rills and gullies, some dry so late in the year, but a few bearing evidence of streams that flowed, however thinly, throughout the year. Even as the descent became more gentle in places, still there were other points where the rough road hugged close to the side of the mountain, and the narrowing ledges demanded caution to avoid falling from the trail.

They were moving single file along one such patch when Xena spotted a speck in the sky above them. She held up her hand in warning, and pointed above them to the north. For some seconds they stood watching as the speck grew larger, until Xena and Rillian together spoke out. "It's the creature."

"The wingclaw," Gabrielle said.

"Whatever," muttered Xena.

As the beast came closer, Xena signalled Argo to close in against the rockwall, and pushed Gabrielle down and under the belly of the horse. Gabrielle, who had begun to brandish her staff at the beast, uttered an angry protest.

"Gabrielle, there's no time to argue. Get down. It's too small to grab Argo, but it might try for you." She drew her sword and planted herself between Gabrielle and the creature. Rillian pulled her axe loose and took up her stance beside her. Together, they stood guard over Argo and the bard huddled beneath her.

Xena glanced at Rillian. "Remember, try to drive it off, not kill it." Rillian nodded sharply in response, and gripped her axe more firmly.

Screeching loudly, its huge wings waving furiously, the beast flew nearer to their position on the ledge, strong taloned claws extended and grasping. Its carrion breath rolled over them in warm, noxious clouds as it swooped down in the instinctive manner of any raptor bird, ready to snatch up its prey.

Xena and Rillian struck as one, slicing at the creature's muscular legs. The leathery skin was tough and strong, but they struck again as it lifted away from them, and on the second stroke Xena drew blood. Screaming defiance, the creature pulled its legs close in to its body and climbed out of their reach. They watched as it flew higher and higher.

"It's going to stoop on us," Xena said.

"I'm ready."

Suddenly, it began to dive towards them, as Xena and Rillian braced themselves for another pass. Suddenly it veered away from the ledge, and instead of striking with its powerful hindlegs, it slashed at them with the great claw on its wingtip. Caught off guard by the move, Rillian's thigh was grazed, but she quickly recovered her balance and struck at the thick wing membrane, where a jagged tear from Xena's sword was already visible. The beast rose and dove once more, flying at them from the other direction, and slicing at Xena with the claw on its unhurt wing. Xena ducked and drove her sword up through the wing, wounding the beast yet again. Beside her Rillian swung her axe at the gaping hole, rending it further.

The beast was in pain, and enraged. These warmthings should have been food. Instead they had grown strange hard claws and wounded it. Maddened, it swung around in the air and dove straight for the source of its irritation, maw agape and fangs glistening, a high scream pouring from its throat.

Xena voiced her own battlecry in challenge, and with swinging motions of her arms to draw the creature's attention to her, backed down the path, just enough that Argo and Gabrielle were no longer immediately behind her. The monster swerved to follow her, as Rillian ducked beneath the great wing that raked across the ledge on which she stood. Again striking together, Xena sliced at the creature's neck before wheeling out of its reach, while Rillian dealt another blow to its tattered wing, driving it up and away from the horse and girl behind her, even as she tore another gaping hole in its wing. A last stroke from Xena as it completed its pass sliced off a portion of its tail. It screamed again and, breaking off its attack, fled towards the mountain to the north, where Xena had seen it head the day before.

For a moment both Xena and Rillian stood and watched it fly into the distance, alert against the chance that it might reappear. As the minutes passed, and no renewed attack came, they relaxed. Gabrielle crawled out from her refuge beneath Argo, eyes wide. Her voice broke the stillness.

"Rillian. You're hurt. Your leg, it's bleeding. You'd better let Xena look at it. She's really good with that kind of thing."

Xena turned to look at Rillian, who glanced down at her own thigh, now slowly oozing blood. "It's not bad. Once I bind it, I'll be good as new."

Xena moved in, to take a closer look. "You'd better let me clean that. Its talons could be poisonous - or even just plain filthy, and if it's not cleaned properly, the wound could go bad, and you could lose the leg."

"It's all right Xena," Rillian said. "I know something about field surgery myself. I'll just get my kit out of my pack and deal with it." Rillian turned and dug around in her pack for a few minutes, before bringing out a small bag.

Gabrielle turned to her. "Do you need any help? Bandaging that, maybe? I've done a fair amount of bandaging and poulticing and so on."

"No, it's fine." Rillian paused. "Uh... healing is kind of a private matter in my homeland. I'll just head down the path a bit, and take care of this, if that's all right with you?"

Xena looked at her and shrugged. "If that's your way. But if that wound starts to rot, I'm going to take care of it my way, private rituals or not. You hear me?"

"I hear you. And if it does not heal properly, I will allow your care." Limping now, though only slightly, Rillian headed down the path, stopping just far enough away that they could not see her movements clearly as she sat on the ground, back towards them, and tended to her leg.

Even though she could not see what Rillian was doing, Gabrielle watched intently for a few minutes. "Now that's really odd. I've never heard of healing being something secret. Even in the Temples of Aesclepius, where it's all sacred - or supposed to be - nobody makes any secret out of it. I wonder why."

Xena shrugged. "She comes from very far away. Who knows how different things are there."

"What if something happens to her and she can't take care of it herself?"

"She either lets someone else help her, or she dies. Her choice, if she's in a condition to make it."

"But it's such a strange thing, especially if her people do so much travelling."

"Ask her about it, then. When we get somewhere safe." Xena took another look up at the sky, which remained clear of threat. Taking Argo's reins again, she began to move down the path toward Rillian. "Let's get going. She looks like she's packing up her kit."

As Xena had thought, by the time she and Gabrielle reached Rillian, the dark-skinned woman had finished caring for her injury, and had stood to meet them. She moved much more easily now, almost as if she had never been wounded, and showing though the slash in her trousers was a pad of grey cloth, hiding the site of the wound. She smiled, a little sheepishly, at the other women.

"Thanks for indulging me. You'd think that, travelling so much and so far, I'd stop feeling so strongly about customs like this. But some things just don't go away." Her kit replaced in her pack, she moved to the rear position once more. "I'm fine now. Let's get moving."

With renewed caution they continued along the slowly descending trail, Rillian on point and Xena in the rear, ready for any sign that the return of the beast was immanent. But no second attack came, and by the time the sun had begun to drop towards the great expanse of sea that had lain before them for much of the day, they came at last out of the pass and looked down upon the narrow coastal plain.

Immediately below them lay a thin swath of trees, which dwindled rapidly into a stretch of dry flat land, covered with coarse grasses, swept all in one direction by the winds blowing off the ocean. The grassland ended in a line of crumbling bluffs that fell away to the rocky beaches beneath. To the north of their vantage point, a ragged hollow that marked the course of a snow-fed stream cut across the grassland toward the sea. From where they stood, the trail forked sharply, one branch leading north, the other, south.

"That way," said Xena, as she led them down from the foot of the pass, along the trail heading north into the woods, in the direction of the riverbed. "There's a small harbour where that gully meets the water. The nearest town's down there."

After travelling for a time in the cover of the trees, Gabrielle, found herself relaxing slightly from the tension that had lain heavily on them since their first sighting of the creature. "So, Xena, this town we're headed to, it's the same town you visited before, right?"

"Yes."

"You did say there was an inn, right Xena?"

"Last time I was here, there was."

"So what do they do here, mostly? Is it a fishing village?"

"Some. There's a market, too."

Rillian nodded. "Closest town to the pass, that makes sense."

"It's the biggest town along this stretch of the coast," Xena added. "If they're starting sacrifices, this is where they'll bring the victims. There's a huge rock spire a few hours walk north of the town, right at the foot of the mountains. That's where they've always staked out the sacrifices." She snorted with disgust. "It's their tradition."

"And this time, we'll stop it for ever," Gabrielle announced with confidence. "I know you, Xena, you'll do it."

Xena made another indistinct sound, and turned her attention back to picking out the path through the trees. Gabrielle turned to Rillian. "She will. And then we can both dine forever on the tale of Xena and the Wingclaw."

"Right now I'd settle for a bath and a bed," Rillian responded.

"Me too," said Gabrielle.

"Is that all?"

The young bard looked sharply at the older woman, whose lips were curled up in a smile. She nodded her head, shaking her dark braids in Xena's direction. Gabrielle glared, and made a sharp silencing motion. "Well, maybe some nutbread, too."

"That's the thing about inns. Most times you only get what you ask for. Come to think of it, life's kind of like that, too, don't you think?"

Still glaring, and fighting to keep her voice steady, and at a normal pitch, Gabrielle replied, "The trick is to ask for things that you're likely to have a chance of getting. I might ask for nutbread, but it wouldn't make any sense to ask for the moon."

"But you'll never know if the moon's available unless you ask."

Xena turned her head to look at her two companions. "Can you hold the philosophy debate until we get settled for the night? Or is that asking for the moon?"

Gabrielle and Rillian looked at each other. "The moon?" said the older woman.

"Nah," said Gabrielle. "But almost as hard to get. Two bards holding off on a debate? That's asking a lot."

"Very funny." Xena paused. "We're almost there, and I'm not sure if they'll be happy to see me or not. So let's take things carefully until we know."

"Right. We were just..."

"I know what you were doing, Gabrielle. Just stop it for now, okay?" Xena started forward again, as the trail they followed led out of the trees toward the edge of the small ravine.

Feeling exposed once more, it took no effort for Gabrielle to lapse into silence as the three automatically fell into the single file they had travelled in through the pass, though the trail was now wide enough that all three could have travelled abreast. Once they reached the broad gash in the land that marked the streambed, the trail, well shored up with rock and wood, led them down the weathered and eroded side of the gully, toward the water. On either side of the watercourse, small patches of the land had been sown with grain, and others planted as gardens. The grain was ripe now, where it had not already been reaped, and the garden vines and bushes laden with produce. All along the little river valley men and women laboured, bent over scythes and baskets, working into the early evening to secure the last of the harvest.

Even so, as the band of travellers passed along the trail toward the town, heads were turned to look at them in silence, and in their wake the faintest of murmurs seemed to ripple from one field to another.

"I suppose they don't get many travellers this late in the season," Rillian said quietly.

"It's more than that," Gabrielle countered, shaking her head. "Xena, they do know you. Or at least some of them do, and they're telling the rest."

"I expected as much." Xena pointed to the top of the ravine, as young boy on the high ground overtook them, running towards the town. "They'll be waiting for us."

"Who?" asked Gabrielle.

"The town elders, I would imagine. Now be quiet. Let me do the talking when we get there, all right?"

"Oh, of course, naturally, I mean, you've been here before, and obviously, they remember you, and... I should be quiet now, right?"

"Right," said Xena, with grim finality.

They soon passed the last of the gardens, and the grasses that grew in the uncultivated areas of the ravine floor grew coarse and sparse as they came ever closer to the tiny harbour, and the salt water began to mix with the water from the stream. At last, they came to the little town. The stream around which the town had been built veered sharply toward the north wall of the gully, leaving a broad flat area on its southern bank. Here lay the major part of the town, though it was in truth little more than a village, with perhaps two score houses clustered around an open square that would host the weekly market. Around the market square as well were several larger and more imposing buildings, including a small temple to Poseidon, and the village tavern, which also served as an inn for the occasional traveller. A small wooden bridge joined the two parts of the town, though only a few houses had been built on the northern shore of the river. Instead, long sheds for drying fish and storing boats and nets and fishing gear lined most of the north bank. The stream widened and grew deep on the seaward side, enough that a few wharves had been built, where the town's small fishing fleet was moored for the night.

As they followed the road past the outlying houses toward the town square, the handful of townsfolk in their path moved quickly aside as they came near, then stood standing to watch them pass. Faces appeared in windows and doorways. The same wave of silence that had followed them along the small valley path, seemed to move with them here as well, as conversations ebbed into silence as they approached, and rose again to an anxious buzz as they passed out of earshot.

"We are definitely causing a stir," Gabrielle whispered to Rillian, who had drawn up beside her.

"I wonder if they know why we're here," Rillian responded, glancing ahead at Xena, who squared her shoulders and walked resolutely on, as if oblivious to the murmurs and glances around them.

"Maybe they already know about the..."

"Gabrielle," Xena hissed at her, barely turning her head.

Gabrielle sighed. "Well, at least it looks like we can have fish for supper. I love roasted fish."

Rillian smiled archly. "I though all you were going to ask for was nutbread."

Before Gabrielle could respond, they entered the square. There was no market today, and the square held few permanent fixtures, beyond a few benches and a small wooden platform in the middle of the square. Though many of the alleys and doorways that opened onto the square seemed to hold more than a few of the townsfolk, their eyes fixed on the newcomers, the square itself was empty save for the three people who sat on one of the benches outside the inn, looking expectantly in their direction. Two men, one old and greybearded, one of middle age, with the wiry strength of a fisherman, and one matronly woman awaited them. Xena led the way across the square, and as she approached, the three stood to greet her.