The Stranger Within

By JinXavier

Rating: NC17/NC

Warning: This story contains scenes of an adult nature, including graphic violence and nonconsensual sex between a man and a woman. If you are under 18 or if this is illegal where you live, please read no further.

The characters of Iphicles, The Sovereign, Jester Iolaus, Xena, and Cupid God of War, belong to Universal Studios and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.

Seralyn had never been so happy in her life. She wanted to shout to the world how utterly perfect life could be. She picked up her skirts and raced down the hillside, laughing gaily as her fiancé‚ called after her to stop. She had no intention of obeying. The sky was a vast blue bowl overhead, the grass a thick green carpet beneath her feet. The day was bright, the air was warm, and she had never felt so alive. She ran on, her long chestnut hair in its lightly braided tail flying out behind her, her simple but elegant white and gold gown hiked up to her knees, her deep blue eyes flashing with joy.

In two weeks, she would marry and go to live with Andros in his home kingdom of Sparta. She would be the crown princess, something for which her older sister seemed unable to forgive her. Marilys had wed a fourth son; she would never rule a kingdom. In fact, she had never left home. She remained in Argos with her husband and her two small children. So, too, had the girls' two older brothers. Seralyn would be the first child to leave home, and she was counting the days until her departure. Even Mari's veiled warnings about the horrors of the marriage bed weren't enough to ruin her anticipation.

It wasn't that she hated her home. On the contrary, she loved her parents and her older siblings very much. It was just that she felt so stifled in Argos. She was the baby of the family, and everyone insisted on treating her like a child. Hence the fact that although she was almost twenty years of age, her father was only now allowing her to be wed. She had been so sheltered for most of her life that she felt sometimes as if the castle was more of a prison than a home.

All that would cease in two weeks time. She and Andros would speak their vows before the priest, and she would go to live with her new husband and his aging father in the beautiful and cultured southern country of Sparta, the pleasure capital of Greece. Seralyn could hardly wait.

She heard Andros gaining ground behind her, and she slowed down so that he could catch her. He laughed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly on the tip of her nose as he twirled her around. "You're faster than a rabbit," he said. "I almost didn't catch you."

Seralyn smiled up at the handsome fair-haired man to whom she would soon pledge her life. "I let you catch me," she informed him smugly.

"You minx," he said with a grin, picking her up and holding her so that their faces were only inches apart. "I don't care if you ARE the most beautiful princess in all of southern Greece, you're still a minx."

Seralyn wrapped her arms around her fiancé's neck and kissed him lightly. She pulled away to tell him how happy she was, when suddenly, something on the horizon caught her attention. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she tried to see into the distance.

"Seralyn?" Andros' expression grew concerned as he dropped her back to her feet.

"What is that?" Seralyn asked, pointing toward the south.

Andros turned to look in the indicated direction and shrugged. "It's just smoke, Sera. Probably some peasants burning something."

Seralyn shook her head forcefully. "It's coming from the castle," she said in a low voice as some sixth sense filled her with foreboding. "Something's wrong." She took off running once again, even faster than before, ignoring Andros' shouts for her to wait for him.

The closer Seralyn drew to the castle, the more worried she became. The smoke was definitely coming from the main keep. Although it was mid-afternoon and the place should have been bustling with activity, there was no one about. She flew across the eerily deserted courtyard and inside, searching frantically for someone, anyone, to explain to her what was happening.

She ran into the great hall of the castle and came to a skidding halt. She stared around the room, her brain not registering the information her eyes were sending.

The large room with its stone walls covered with brilliantly colored tapestries seemed to have been given a slapdash coat of red paint. Even the thick carpets on the floor bore evidence of the garish liquid. Objects lay all over the floor, things to which she could give no name. At the end of the room sat her father's massive throne, and Seralyn stared in confusion at the thing in the seat. For some odd reason, it was wearing her father's crown, but before she could determine exactly what it was, she felt more than heard someone enter the room behind her.

She turned to see a large man blocking the main entrance into the throne room. His great bulk seemed to fill the doorway, but because of the angle of the light, she couldn't quite make out his features. He held a sword in his hand, its silver gleam dulled by a vicious red substance. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the weapon as a single drop of the thick ruby liquid detached and dripped from the blade to the floor.

Her eyes flew back to the newcomer's face. "Who are you?" she whispered, but the man made no answer.

Suddenly, another door to her right was flung open violently. Sera turned to see a strangely familiar older man with light brown hair and a pleasant face with rounded cheeks, a slash of a mouth, and deep circles under the eyes. He wore a maroon-colored leather tunic studded with brass points in the front and bearing a short cape on the back. His leather pants were of the same shade, as were his boots and the leather cap that graced his head. He stalked into the throne room dragging her older sister, Marilys, behind him.

The newcomer glanced at her and nodded as if pleased, and then he turned to address the figure in the main doorway. "Very good, your highness. You've got her." He inclined his head toward Mari. "This is the other one."

"Sera!" a voice cried from outside the throne room.

The man in the doorway turned and glanced behind him. Seralyn caught a quick glimpse of his features, a flash of dark eyes, a squared off jaw, and a sharp nose. For some odd reason, he, too, seemed familiar to her. She heard a cry of horror followed by a solid thud from outside the throne room, and then the man turned back so that his features were hidden from her once again.

"Andros?" she breathed, but she was too wary of the warrior blocking her way to try to move past him.

"You have no right!" Marilys cried suddenly, straining to free herself from her captor's grasp. "Father paid the tribute."

Seralyn gazed at her sister in confusion. She noted idly that Mari's dark hair had come loose from most of its pins and her blue dress was torn and horribly stained with some dark liquid. Sera cocked her head curiously. Mari always had impeccable grooming; she couldn't believe that her sister would be out in public dressed like this.

The soldier holding Mari captive laughed loudly. "Guess it wasn't enough, love," he said in a gruff voice.

The figure in the doorway stepped forward into the light, and Sera caught her breath in wonder. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. The torchlight reflected golden highlights in his long reddish hair, and his lips were full and sensuous. His brow shaded his dark eyes, casting them in shadow. His muscular torso was encased in the same maroon-colored armor as his companion although this man had forsaken the cap. Again, that faint hint of familiarity tickled at her, but she couldn't quite remember where she'd seen him before.

He took another step closer, and his dark gaze considered each woman in turn, first the plump form of her oldest sister, then her own shorter, more rounded figure. She saw no interest in the look he turned on either of them, not even the slightest inkling of desire. The man simply studied them as if they were inanimate objects and not living breathing human beings. Then his gaze came back to her and remained there.

"This is the one," he said in a deep rich voice that might have been pleasant had it contained any inflection at all.

"What?" she asked, confused by his words. She glanced at Mari for help, but her sister's eyes were locked on the man and full of fiery hatred.

He didn't even seem to notice Mari's loathing. He simply glanced at the other soldier and commanded in a cold voice, "Kill her."

Sera stared at the man in shock as his words finally pierced the haze that had held her brain captive since she had run into the great hall. Now she looked around her, and the room came into sharp focus. The red liquid on the walls and floor were great washes of blood. Next to the window lay a severed arm, a sword still grasped in its dead hand. More body parts lay strewn around the room, and in front of the dais lay two fallen bodies, a deadly double-bladed ax still embedded in the chest of one. Behind the bodies, on the throne, sat her father's head, his golden crown still perched crookedly atop his faded blond hair.

Seralyn felt a scream building up inside her. She turned back to her sister, and she watched in frozen horror as the older man drew out a massive sword and calmly slit Marilys' throat.

"Mari," Sera screamed, but her voice came out as only a whisper. She took a step toward her fallen sister, but her foot skidded in a deep puddle of gore on the carpeting, and she began to lose her balance. Before she could fall, however, she caught a glimmer of motion out of the corner of her eye as the younger man took a step closer to her and raised his sword high. She felt a crushing pain in her head, a bright light exploded behind her eyes, and then she descended into mindless darkness.

Prince Iphicles caught the woman before she could hit the floor. He wiped his blade on the hem of her dress, resheathed the weapon, and then he hefted her up into his arms. He cradled her small body and gazed down at her face with an expression completely devoid of emotion.

"Let's just hope my brother's spies weren't lying and she still IS a virgin," he said dryly.

His companion laughed harshly. "Get him drunk enough, and he won't know or care." He eyed the girl in the prince's arms speculatively. "He should enjoy himself regardless. She's a tasty little number."

The prince's dark eyes flickered just a bit. "She's young enough to be your daughter, Ajax," he said.

The older man shrugged, bent to his knee, and wiped his dripping blade on the dress of the woman he'd just murdered. "When has that ever stopped me?" He stood and looked around approvingly at the carnage surrounding them. "Looks like we got everyone. Every single member of the royal family is dead save the girl, and the Spartans lost their heir as well." His face split in a savage grin. "A good day's work I think."

Iphicles' gaze lingered on the king's head sitting perched on the throne, and he nodded. "That it was."

"Well, I don't know about you," Ajax said, "but I think a visit to the brothels is in order. Slaughtering pigs always gives me a hearty appetite." He glanced at the woman in Iphicles' arms. "But I suppose you have to deliver that sweet little package to the Sovereign and make your report." He laughed heartily. "And THAT, my friend, is why I am more than content to follow instead of lead. I'm off for Hellspont. I'm in the mood for some rough sport."

Iphicles shook his head in mock disgust. "I hope you catch crabs," he said. "Just don't forget to report in when you get back. My brother goes easy on you because you're my favorite, but that'll only take you so far."

Ajax saluted mockingly, and then he left the room. Iphicles looked around one last time at the carnage left behind by his men and then down at the Argosian princess. His dark eyes traced her beautiful features, the porcelain delicacy of her skin, the thickness of her dark lashes and chestnut hair, the fullness of her red lips. He could almost imagine covering those lips with his own, could almost taste them.

He stiffened suddenly. What in Tartarus was he thinking? He shook his head to clear it. He stalked from the blood-splattered throne room quickly, trying to ignore the unexpected desire that had flamed up inside him. She belonged to the Sovereign, not to him. He had to remember that and forget about the girl. He had no intention of losing the position he'd worked so hard to achieve, especially not over a worthless female. Best to get her back to the castle, drop her off in the dungeon, and forget the wench every existed.

His normal calm restored, Iphicles left the castle of Argos. He joined his men in front of the now empty edifice, and they rode hard toward the north, back to the castle of the ultimate ruler of the known world, the prince's brother, the Sovereign.

Seralyn came awake slowly, wondering why her head was aching so fiercely. The last time she'd felt this wretched had been when she'd snuck off with a bottle of her father's favorite wine and drunk about half the contents.

She groaned and opened her eyes. She blinked and tried to clear her vision, because she didn't quite understand what she was seeing.

She lay on a hard cot in the strangest room she'd ever seen. The furniture around her was similar to what one would find in any bedroom: a small bedside table, a wardrobe, and a larger round table with a single ladderback chair. The decor, however, was very unusual. The floor, walls, and even the ceiling of the room were painted in a dizzying black and white checkerboard pattern. The angles of the walls didn't seem to be quite right either, and just looking around made her head ache even more fiercely.

She sat up, wincing at the sudden spike of pain in her head, and then she noticed a hulking figure standing in the shadows in the corner of the room. Behind the shape, Seralyn could just barely see a door made completely of iron bars. With a sinking heart, she realized that she was in a cell.

The figure took a step forward into the light, and Sera had to steel herself to keep from crying aloud as memory flooded back in. She recognized the man at once this time, Prince Iphicles, the leader of the Sovereign's army. The prince had come to Argos several months previous and demanded that her father sign an alliance with the Sovereign and pay a tribute of gold and grain. Her father had not been happy with the request, but he had done as asked; word was already spreading rapidly about what happened to kingdoms that resisted the Sovereign's rule. Sera had wondered at the time if that visitation was the reason why her father had seemed suddenly anxious for her to marry Andros. Sparta had a much larger army than Argos.

Crushing grief threatened to overtake her as she thought about her family, but she refused to let this man see her pain. She slid out of bed and stood to her full height, lifting her chin and gazing down her nose at him imperiously.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "My father paid your tribute."

The prince gazed at her placidly, his face a blank mask. "It wasn't enough," he said simply.

Sera stared at the man in shock. "Enough?" she echoed incredulously. "You took most of our treasury and harvest."

The man said nothing in reply. He simply continued to gaze at her with infuriating indifference.

"Why . . .?" Seralyn's voice broke, and she had to force herself to continue. "Why did you kill everyone?"

The dark eyes seemed to flicker for a moment, but all he said was, "I did what I was told to do."

"Why didn't you kill me, too?" she asked.

He cocked his head slightly. "I was told not to."

"But why?" she insisted.

The prince didn't answer. Instead, he tossed a long flowing red gown on the bed beside her. "Put that on," he ordered. "The Sovereign commands your presence in the throne room."

Sera gaped at the man for a moment, and then she glanced down at her own gown. Dark spots and a long red stain marred the pristine whiteness of the hem, and she couldn't hold back a faint cry of disgust when she realized that her dress was stained with dried blood. She unfastened the belt quickly, but then she paused and glanced up at the prince.

"Please turn around."

Iphicles continued to gaze at her stoically. "No."

At last, anger filtered through her fear, and she glared at him, willing him to comply. It was clear, however, that he did not intend to obey her wish. She started to turn away to put her back to him, but he repeated, "No," in a voice so chilling that she stopped in mid-turn. She stared at him, her anger growing with each passing moment. He took a menacing step toward her, and she quickly but grudgingly did as he asked.

She undid her belt and allowed her gown to drop to the floor. She felt her face heat up, but she wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of knowing how humiliated she was. She grabbed the new garment and quickly slipped it on, fastening the tie at the waist and the straps on her shoulder. It was a hideously gaudy dress that left her arms completely bare. It dipped much too low in the front, and, although it fell in a straight flowing wave to the floor, each side was slit to reveal more of her legs than was truly proper. Iphicles tossed a matching set of slippers on the bed. After sending another glare his way, Seralyn took them and slipped them onto her bare feet.

"Brush your hair," he commanded, nodding toward the small table that sat beside her cot.

Sera turned to see a brush lying beside a basin of water on top of the table, and she quickly unfastened her hair and brushed it out, then braided it back with shaking fingers. She managed a passable braid finally, and then she turned back to her captor.

His gaze raked over her form from head to toe, and then he nodded as if pleased. He held out a hand. "Come."

Sera stared at the outstretched hand, loath to take it, but then she took a deep breath and crossed the room. She couldn't force herself to place her hand in his, however, and finally he just took a firm grip on her bare upper arm and pulled her from the cell.

He led her through the castle, his strides so long that she was barely able to take note of her surroundings for trying to keep up with him. She did see that the walls were made of stone, but they had been painted over in black and white horizontal stripes. The place was dark, but there seemed to be a red haze hanging in the air. The few people they passed in the corridors turned their heads as if they were afraid to look at her captor.

At last, Prince Iphicles pulled her to a halt in front of a large set of double doors flanked by two guards. The men immediately snapped to attention, and one of them opened the door and held it for them. Another guard stood just inside the door, and he bowed low to the prince, then turned to announce them.

The room into which the prince led her was like something from a nightmare. A large guillotine sat in the corner, the basket beneath full of bloodstained straw. Large black vases were scattered here and there along with statues of people writhing in both agony and ecstasy. A mummy case leaned up against one wall, and in another corner stood a massive box painted in black and white vertical stripes. Closer inspection revealed a door inset into the side of the strange box, a large metal bolt holding it closed.

As Iphicles led her down through the center of the room, all heads turned their way to follow their progress. He guided her around a large chopping block flanked by another straw-filled basket toward a large, ornate throne decorated with skulls.

Sera's heart began a painful beat as she gazed at the occupant of that terrible chair. The man who lounged so casually there was huge; his great bulk filled the throne. He was also disarmingly handsome. His silky fine light brown hair brushed his shoulders, and bright blue eyes dominated an almost beautiful face with a luscious mouth surrounded by a darker beard and mustache. The man's lower body was tightly encased in black leather, and his muscular chest was covered by wide straps of silver studded black leather, leaving a great deal of skin exposed. A small man wearing a jester's cap was cavorting in front of the man, but when he noticed the newcomers, he stopped at once and moved behind the throne, peeking out from around the side with a nervous expression on his pleasant face.

The man on the throne did not rise when Iphicles dragged her to stand before him, but his mouth did curve into a chilling smile.

"Welcome back, brother," he said.

Iphicles bowed low. "Thank you, Sovereign."

The Sovereign's gaze slid over to Sera. "So this is my tribute from Argos?" he asked.

Iphicles nodded shortly. "The last surviving member of the royal family."

The Sovereign eyed her up and down, and his eyes glowed brightly with an emotion that Sera had never seen before in a man's eyes. "The youngest female? The virgin?"

Iphicles nodded again. Sera couldn't help but glance up at the prince. For a moment, she thought she saw a faint hint of some deep emotion slide through his eyes as he gazed at the man on the throne. Then he looked down at her, his eyes blank, his face an implacable mask, and she decided that she must have been mistaken.

"Bring her here," the Sovereign commanded, waving a hand toward an unoccupied chair to the right of the throne. "She should find this interesting."

Iphicles took her to the chair and forced her to sit, then took up residence behind her, his hands clasped behind his back. The Sovereign sat up in his throne, leaned over toward her, then lightly ran a finger up the bare skin of her arm.

"I think you'll find this MOST entertaining," he said in a soft, seductive voice.

Sera shuddered and pulled away from him, but her obvious abhorrence of him only seemed to amuse him. He chuckled softly, then turned and yelled, "Bring in the traitors."

The double doors opened, and a dozen soldiers came into the room, each pair dragging a man between them. The first pair stopped just beyond the chopping block. The man held suspended between the guards had his head down so that all Sera could see was the white mane of his hair. Then one of the soldiers grabbed the man's head and pulled it up so that she could see his face, and she gasped. The captive was General Kylos, commander of her father's army.

The Sovereign stood and walked over to the captive general. "Is this the leader of the traitors in Argos?" he asked. One of the soldiers holding the man's arm nodded, and the Sovereign looked down at the general coldly. "So you thought you could sign the alliance and pay my tribute and then plot behind my back? Because of you, the royal house of Argos no longer exists." He glanced back at Sera, and his face creased in a smile and his blue eyes began to twinkle with an almost unholy glee. "Except this girl. And now she's mine, to do with as I please."

General Kylos finally saw her, and an expression of horror crossed his face. "Forgive me, child," he whispered, but before he could say more, the Sovereign cuffed him across the face.

The demigod turned and retook his seat on the throne, throwing one leg across the arm and gazing at the old soldier with anticipation on his handsome face. "Put his head on the block," he commanded.

The guards complied by forcing General Kylos to his knees and pressing his head to the block.

"Release the executioner!" the Sovereign cried, raising a hand.

All heads turned toward the odd black and white box standing in the corner. A guard pushed back the bolt on the lock holding the door closed, and a black-robed figure carrying a huge ax whirled out of the box and all around the room, coming to a halt at last beside the prisoner. The executioner cocked his head as if waiting for a signal, and when the Sovereign dropped his hand, the ax fell, striking General Kylos' head from his body in one swift stroke.

Sera jumped up, a scream locked in her throat, and the Sovereign turned to her and said in an almost pleasant voice, "Sit down."

Sera couldn't tear her gaze away from the head that had fallen into the basket. Its eyes seemed to be staring up at her pleadingly. She felt pressure on her shoulders as Iphicles tried to force her to sit, but she couldn't move.

Suddenly, the Sovereign roared, "SIT DOWN!"

So startled was she that Sera immediately complied, retaking her seat and staring down at her clasped hands as she tried to stop the shudders that had begun to rack her body. She breathed a quick prayer to the gods for either a way to escape or a quick and painless death, and then she had to bite back hysterical laughter. The gods had enough problems of their own to worry about with an insane king; why would they care about one insignificant female?

Sera felt a touch under her chin, and she looked up into the mad blue eyes of the Sovereign. "I didn't give you permission to look away, did I? Now watch, and see how I deal with traitors."

One by one, each man was brought forth, named as a traitor, and then killed by the black-robed executioner. Sera continued to watch the carnage as commanded, but part of her mind had gone far away so that none of it touched her. At long last, when all the men were dead and the basket was overflowing, the Sovereign bid his soldiers drag the bodies away and mount the heads on a line of spikes that decorated one wall of the room.

The Sovereign walked over to inspect their work, and he seemed pleased with the display when it was completed. Then he turned to her, his eyes aglow with a new light that snapped Sera out of her mindless daze and caused her heart to start thudding painfully in her chest. He started across the room toward her, but suddenly a soldier ran up and caught his attention. The soldier whispered something to the Sovereign, and a murderous expression crossed his handsome face. He swore savagely and growled at his brother, "Take her back down to her cell, and then we are going to go DEAL with this. I'm getting sick and tired of these rebels. When are they going to learn that I will NOT tolerate their interference in my plans?"

Iphicles nodded shortly and pulled her from her seat. He began to drag her from the room, and the last thing she saw before the doors closed behind them was the silently screaming head of her father's most trusted advisor, General Kylos.

The prince took her back down below to her cell. He opened the door and pushed her into the room, then locked the door behind him. He cast one last long fathomless look her way, and then he disappeared silently.

Sera began to shake uncontrollably. She sat on the edge of the cot, trying to control her shudders, but to no avail. She lay down, curled into a fetal position, and at last gave into racking sobs. She wept for her family, for Andros, for her father's men, for her current predicament. She cried herself to sleep, and still, in her tormented dreams, she couldn't stop. Soon her pillow was soaked through with bitter tears.

Iphicles slammed the door to his bedchamber behind him, then tossed his gauntlets on a chair. He didn't bother to unstrap his sword, but went straight to a table bearing a bottle of wine. He checked the seal to be sure it hadn't been tampered with, uncapped the bottle, poured himself a glass, then belted it down in one gulp. He poured another glass, then took it over to the window, gazing out sightlessly, trying to calm the maelstrom of unexpected emotions that kept surprising him lately.

The last two days had been totally wasted in a fruitless effort to track down the leader of the rebels threatening the Sovereign's rule. Iphicles wondered sometimes why his brother even bothered. The rebels were really no threat. They were simple farmers and peasants who chafed under their new leadership. Pitchforks and clubs were no match for hard steel. Still, the Sovereign couldn't stand the idea that anyone dared oppose him. He wanted to stamp them all out, every last one, and he would not stop until that day arrived.

Usually, Iphicles would have been more than happy to follow his brother's orders, but for some reason, by the time his brother had called a halt to the search, the prince had been furious. His mood was definitely not improved when they'd returned to the castle to discover Xena in residence. Iphicles had little use for the dark-haired woman, although his brother seemed captivated by her. In retrospect, however, her being here might be a positive thing. The bitch should be able to keep the Sovereign busy for a while. Busy and away from the prisoner in the dungeon.

At last, Iphicles allowed his thoughts to drift to the princess. He had learned to conceal his emotions so completely in the time since he'd come to serve his brother that the feelings the woman aroused in him agitated him with their intensity. He didn't understand it. He'd been with women more beautiful than the Argosian princess. Women were simply there to use for his own pleasure, then discard. He'd never cared much for the sheltered virginal type princess anyway. He didn't understand why this girl struck such a chord in him, why he had this almost overwhelming desire to protect her. When he'd taken her before the Sovereign that first day and the man had leaned over and run his finger down her bare arm, it had taken every ounce of his usually impeccable self control not to lean forward and break his brother's fingers one by one.

Iphicles drained his glass, and then he cleaned up and changed his clothes. He supposed he really should check on the girl. His brother had placed the prisoner in his charge; it was his duty to see how she fared. He left his bedchamber, then headed down into the castle, down to the most feared place in all of Greece, the Sovereign's dungeon.

Seralyn paced her cell for the thousandth time, trying to ignore the rumbling in her stomach. Despite her continued overwhelming grief over the loss of her family, she'd been famished by the time a guard had slipped the first tray through the slot in the bottom of her cell door. She'd snatched the tray up quickly, but one taste of the 'stew' it contained had been one too many. There was so much grease in the mixture that it was nauseating, and she had no idea what animal the few chunks of meat in it hailed from. She'd finally settled for drinking all the tepid water and eating the stale hunk of bread that had accompanied the meal. After two days of minimal sustenance, however, she was growing ravenous.

She heard the sound of the key in the lock, and she turned, surprised. Usually the guard just slipped the tray in through the slot. She'd learned to return the tray the same way after being yelled at quite rudely the first day of her confinement. When she realized that her visitor was not her usual guard, however, she backed away, suddenly wary.

Prince Iphicles entered her cell, his dark eyes lingering on the simple blue gown she wore. Sera resisted the urge to tug on the bodice. It was quite a bit lower than what she usually wore, and it revealed a great deal of the tops of her breasts. Unfortunately, all of the dresses in the wardrobe were similar, and she certainly couldn't wear the bloodstained thing she'd been wearing when she'd been brought here.

"You're back," she said at last, breaking the charged silence. "Is the Sovereign . . .?" she trailed off, her heart hammering at the thought of what might soon happen now that her captor had returned.

Iphicles nodded shortly. "Yes, he's returned as well, but you can put your fears to rest. Xena was here waiting for him. She'll keep him busy for a few days." He paused, then added sardonically, "Unless you wish me to remind him of your presence."

Sera didn't even grace that ridiculous statement with a reply. "Xena?" she asked.

Iphicles wandered over to the table and gazed down at the tray of uneaten food. "Yes. One of the Sovereign's mistresses. From what I hear, she's quite creative in bed. At least, she seems to keep my brother entertained."

Sera felt her face heat up, but before she could retort, the prince looked up at her, a question in his dark eyes.

"You don't like our prison cuisine?" he asked.

Sera glanced down at the uneaten bowl of stew. "I can't eat it," she said pointedly. "It's disgusting."

Iphicles took a spoonful, brought it to his nose, and sniffed. A faint hint of distaste crossed his face, and then he said, "I can't say I blame you." He dropped the spoon back into the bowl, spun on his heel, and left the cell without saying another word.

Sera gaped after him for a moment. What an odd man.

She sat on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Well, regardless of how strange he might be or how much he frightened her, she fervently hoped that what the prince said was true. She hoped this Xena person was around for a LONG time. Anything to keep the Sovereign's mind off her.

The cell door opened once again, and Sera quickly regained her feet. Iphicles came back in bearing another tray, and he ordered the guard who followed him to remove the offending stew. The guard did as told, casting a sly leer her way before he exited the cell.

Iphicles placed the new tray on the table, and then he took a step back. Sera gazed in wonder at the food the prince had brought her. There was an entire loaf of bread that smelled heavenly, butter for the bread, a large leg from either a chicken or turkey, some mixed greens, a bottle of wine, and wonder of wonders, a beautiful ripe red apple. Sera took a seat and began to eat ravenously, forgetting all the good manners steeped into her since birth in her quest to quiet the raging demon in her belly.

At last, when she'd assuaged her first great hunger, she glanced up at the prince. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "It's delicious."

His full lips quirked slightly as if he found her gluttony amusing, but he said nothing. He simply inclined his head in response to her thanks. He seemed so approachable suddenly, that Sera was able to work up the nerve to ask for something to break the monotony of being locked in a cell. "If you don't mind, could I please have something to read? It's a bit boring sitting here all day with nothing to do." She didn't mention that she needed something, anything, to take her mind off her family and her predicament.

She took a quick sip of her wine, and then she glanced up at the prince expectantly. Her hopes fell with his next words to her, however.

"You mistake this gesture on my part, princess," he said scathingly. "I didn't bring you this food to be . . . nice. I brought this food because the Sovereign likes his women with meat on their bones. You are not a guest here; you're a prisoner. The sooner you accept that fact, the better off you'll be." He seemed about to say more, but then he turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

Sera finished her meal slowly, her appetite sated for now. What a fool she was. What had she really expected? She pushed away from the table and took the empty tray back to the door, then lay down on her cot. She tried to lose herself in sleep, but it was a long time coming. At last, she fell into a fitful slumber, one full of dreams of disembodied heads, walls stained with blood, and the maniacal smile of the Sovereign.

When she woke from her nightmare ridden sleep, the first thing she noticed was a small stack of scrolls lying on the table, enough to keep her occupied for quite a while. She looked around the room, but she was alone. With a small smile, she began to search through the scrolls for something to take her mind off her situation. For some odd reason, though, her thoughts never strayed far from the strange man who'd so brutally taken her prisoner and then treated her with surprising kindness.

"Tell me of your family."

Sera was sitting on her cot with her legs curled up underneath her, and she leaned back against the wall and studied the prince thoughtfully for a moment before she answered his question. For reasons she had yet to understand, Iphicles had taken to visiting her every day. He never spoke much; he usually asked her simple questions and then gazed at her with a blank expression on his face while she answered. She usually caught herself rambling, or going out of her way to shock him, anything to elicit some reaction from him, but it never worked. She had never known a person so schooled at hiding what they were thinking. At first, his presence had made her extremely uneasy, but she was beginning to relax around him. With more than a little amazement, she realized that she had come to look forward to his daily visits.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

Iphicles shrugged. "Just tell me about them."

"Well," she began with a small smile. "My parents met when they were children and fell in love. As soon as they were old enough, they were married. And they acted like newlyweds up until the day they . . . " She trailed off, and her smile faded away as she realized that she would never see her parents again, never tease them about holding hands as if they had just been wed.

"What about your brothers and sister?" the prince prompted her.

"I wasn't that close to my brothers," Sera explained. "They were a great deal older than me, and they were always too busy to spend time with me. But Father more than made up for that." She laughed softly. "Mother thought her child-bearing days were over, but then I came along. Father always said I was the best surprise in his life. He spoiled me terribly." Sera's eyes glazed with tears as she remembered the man who had loved her so fiercely. He'd always had time for her, always been there when she was hurt or just needed to talk. One of the reasons she'd agreed to marry Andros was because he reminded her so much of her father. She had secretly worried that she didn't feel toward Andros what her parents obviously felt toward each other, but she had hoped in time she would. She might not have loved Andros, but she cared for him deeply. A tear broke away and traced a path down her cheek as she thought of her murdered fiancé, and she brushed it away angrily.

"Your sister?" Iphicles asked, breaking into her sad reverie.

Sera shrugged. "Mari mothered me worse than my mother did. She was always fussing over me, telling me what to do and how to behave. She had all these rules that she followed. How to behave properly at parties. How to wear one's hair. How to dress at a formal dinner. The list was endless. She constantly complained about me because I was simply terrible with rules. I never do as I'm told." She sighed sadly. Mari had always driven her crazy, but what she would do to see her now!

"You loved them," he said.

Sera looked up at him in surprise. "Of course I loved them. They're . . . I mean, they were my family." She gazed at him curiously. "Don't you love your brother?"

He didn't answer her question; instead, he changed the subject. "Your father never fought a war, did he?"

Sera shook her head. "We had a small army, but just enough to keep the peace. Argos is . . ." her voice broke, and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. "Argos was never a very rich kingdom. We weren't poor. We got by all right, but we didn't have great riches either. I guess no one ever thought we were worth attacking before."

"I've always been at war," Iphicles said softly. "I've carried a sword and been a warrior for most of my life."

"Is that what you wanted to do?" Sera asked quietly.

He gazed off into space, and at last, he nodded. "Yes, I did. I can still remember watching my father slave away on his farm, but it was all for nothing. We never had enough, no matter how hard he worked. I wasn't going to waste my life like that. He worked himself into an early grave. He died before Hercules was born."

"What about your mother?" Sera inquired, suddenly realizing that the prince was probably telling her things that he'd never told another living soul. She wondered why. She had the impression Iphicles didn't talk much as a rule, and never about personal issues. The fact that he'd chosen her to talk to filled her with the strangest feeling of warmth.

Iphicles' expression darkened. "She abandoned us a few years later."

"Oh," Sera said faintly. "I'm sorry."

Iphicles stood. "I have to go," he announced, his voice cold again.

Sera stood as well. "Do you think you could bring me some more to read?" she asked. "I've read all those." She pointed to the small stack of scrolls in the corner.

His eyebrow arched high. "Already? Do you always read this fast?"

Sera nodded.

"Why bother?" he inquired.

Sera shrugged self-consciously. "I love to read. I can visit other places I'll never be able to see, do things I'll never really be able to do, pretend to be other people."

The prince's dark eyes studied her thoughtfully. "You read to escape."

Startled, Sera nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. I was always so protected and sheltered, I wanted to leave Argos and see the world. I can do that when I read."

Iphicles looked around her cell, and his lips quirked a little. "Well, I believe you got your wish."

Sera frowned at the man in exasperation. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"You should always be careful what you wish for, princess," he said as he started toward the door. "You might not like it when you get it." A sardonic smile broke across his face, the first smile she'd seen from the man, and then he left the room, locking the cell door behind him.

Suddenly furious, Sera picked up a scroll and flung it across the room at the door. What an absolutely IRRITATING man! She hoped she never saw him again.

The Sovereign lounged on his throne in his second favorite room of the castle, toying idly with Xena's short black hair as she lay curled in his lap, nibbling on his throat. He chuckled deeply as her teeth bit hard enough to draw blood. He was in a fine mood now, despite the fact that the hunt for the rebel leader had not gone well. He'd come back home to find Xena waiting in his bed. A few days in her company was more than enough to release any residual anger he might have felt over not discovering the identity of the man plotting against him. Now, days later, he still hadn't had enough of the woman.

He gazed idly at the chopping block and its bloodstained straw basket. Oh well, with the new information he'd received this morning from one of his spies, some day soon that basket would hold the head of the rebel leader. Then he could get on with his plans to conquer not only Greece, but the entire world. With Xena's help, he just might make it all the way to the top, to Mount Olympus itself.

Xena bit him again, and he growled playfully and pulled her closer to him, idly stroking her breast, feeling himself harden beneath her. He was just about to pick her up and carry her to his bedchamber, when the guard in charge of the castle dungeon came before the throne. The man was obviously apprehensive; he had removed his leather cap and was twisting it nervously in his hands.

"What?" the Sovereign asked pointedly, annoyed at the interruption.

The guard bowed low. "Sovereign," he began, "it's about the prisoner, the princess from Argos."

"What about her?" the Sovereign inquired, a hint of boredom creeping into his tone. He managed to slip a hand inside the bodice of Xena's dress and began to toy with her nipple, smiling when she giggled in delight.

"Well, it's your brother . . ."

The Sovereign paused at the man's words. He released Xena's breast and sat up straight, forcing the woman to grab onto his neck for dear life to keep from being dumped onto the floor.

"What about him?" he demanded angrily.

The fool of a guard must have noticed his liege lord's growing annoyance, because he began to speak so fast that his words almost ran together. "I just thought you'd want to know that he comes to visit the girl everyday. He brings her special food, scrolls to read, and other things. And they sit and talk."

The Sovereign stared at the man in mild annoyance as he considered this new piece of information. This was certainly an unforeseen circumstance.

"You mean, the human iceberg actually has the hots for a woman?" Xena jeered. "I can't believe it."

"Shut up," the Sovereign barked absently.

Xena ignored him as usual. She snuggled up against him and scratched her nails lightly over his crotch. "You see, Sov. It's like I told you. You can't trust him. You need to get rid of him before . . . "

The Sovereign stood and unceremoniously dumped the woman onto the floor, stopping her in mid sentence. "Send for my brother," he yelled to the guard at the door. He glanced down at the woman at his feet, squelching the surge of lust that ran through him every time he looked her way. "Run along, Xena. Let me deal with my brother. You worry about how to put our plan into motion."

Xena struggled to her feet and adjusted her gaudy dress haughtily. "Well, you don't have to be so nasty about it."

"Get out," the Sovereign growled, and Xena beat a hasty retreat. "You too," he snapped at the prison guard, and the man fled immediately, scuttling out of the room just as Iphicles entered. His brother glanced after the departing guard, and when he turned back toward the throne, his usual blank expression held a faint hint of wariness.

Iphicles came to stand before his brother and bowed deeply. "You called for me?" he asked.

The Sovereign retook his throne, gazing at his brother thoughtfully. He knew that Iphicles hated him, had hated him since the day he was born. He was jealous because his father was a simple mortal and not the King of the Gods. Yet, Iphicles was no fool. He knew who had the power and the skills to rule, and he was more than happy to ride his brother's coattails to glory, reaping the benefits along the way. Up until now, the Sovereign had been pleased with his brother's work. Iphicles did as he was told, and he did it well. People were almost as afraid of Iphicles as they were of the Sovereign. Maybe that reputation had finally gone to his brother's head. It might be time to teach him a lesson about exactly WHO ruled here.

"I've discovered the name of the leader of the rebels," he said without preamble.

Iphicles cocked an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"His name is Gravis."

Iphicles' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I've heard of him."

"I want you to capture him for me," the Sovereign announced. "I don't want him dead. At least, not yet. Bring him back here, and then I'll deal with him."

"You're not coming this time?" Iphicles queried.

The Sovereign smiled coldly and shook his head. "Oh, no. I've got things to do around here. I'm afraid I've neglected our new guest."

He studied his brother closely, searching for a reaction, but Iphicles was well schooled in hiding his feelings. Not even a flicker of interest crossed his face.

"The princess?" he simply asked.

The Sovereign nodded slowly. "It's been a long time since I had a virgin." He smiled ferally. "It should be amusing. I DO hope she fights."

At last, he received a response, as his brother stiffened a bit at his taunt, but still, Iphicles said nothing to contradict his brother. His face betrayed no emotion; it could have been carved from stone. "Well, if you'll not be needing me any longer, I'll go prepare to track down Gravis."

The Sovereign inclined his head regally. "Just remember to bring him back alive," he reminded his brother.

Iphicles nodded shortly, then bowed low and left the throne room. The Sovereign watched him go, pleased with this turn of events. With Iphicles out of the way, he and Xena could complete their plan to poison Zeus. Once the gods knew they were at his mercy, they would do anything he asked. Then, when he and Aphrodite were wed, he would rule the entire world, not just Greece. With that kind of power, his brother wouldn't dare defy him.

He stood and stretched, content with the direction his life had taken. At last, he would have the destiny he'd always known was his. And, as soon as his brother was well away from the castle, he'd treat himself. It really HAD been a long time since he'd had a virgin.

Seralyn was sitting at the table, happily pouring over the new scrolls that Iphicles had brought her. One in particular was wonderful. It was all about Ares during the Summer of Love. Her sister Mari would have thrown it into the fire immediately, but Sera was thoroughly enjoying reading about the god's adventures. The scroll was quite instructive, if a little confusing.

Suddenly, the door to her cell was flung back against the wall, and Iphicles stalked into the room. She stood quickly and dropped the scroll, surprised more at his entry than his being here. She'd soon gotten over her anger with him over his flippant comments regarding her captivity. He still came to visit her each day, but she'd never seen him like this. He seemed almost frantic.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have to leave," he announced.

"Leave?" Sera echoed faintly with growing dismay. She didn't quite understand her growing attachment to the prince. She knew that he'd had a part in the killing of her family and that she should hate him, but for some reason, when Iphicles was around, she felt safe. As much as he infuriated her at times, the empty silence when he was gone was worse. She didn't want him to leave now.

"The Sovereign thinks he's discovered the leader of the rebels," Iphicles explained. "He's ordered me to capture him."

"He's not going with you?" Sera asked, her dread growing to new heights.

Iphicles shook his head, and then he came over and grabbed her roughly by her upper arms. "Listen to me," he said in an intense tone. "If he sends for you, you do as he says. Whatever he asks, obey him."

"But wha . . . why . . ." she stuttered, shocked as much by his handling of her as his words. He shook her, stopping her before she could complete her question.

"Listen to me! Just obey him. Don't fight him. He loves it when women fight him. He'll hurt you if you do." Iphicles swallowed convulsively. "He might even kill you. So, do as he says. Do you understand me?"

Sera stared up into his dark eyes, unable to believe what he was asking of her. "Please," she whispered. "Don't leave me here. Take me with you."

Iphicles released her and began to pace around the cell. "I can't do that," he said. "He's already suspicious. I don't believe the timing of this is coincidental."

"But . . . we haven't done anything for him to be suspicious of," Sera pointed out.

Iphicles whirled on her. "Do you think he'd be PLEASED to discover that I visit you every day and bring you things? You're HIS prisoner." He ran his fingers through his reddish locks in agitation. "Gods, I've been a fool. What have I been thinking? I know he has spies down here. That fool of a guard has probably been keeping close tabs on us. No woman is worth losing my position . . . OR my life over."

"Iphicles," Sera began. "Please don't . . ."

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Just remember what I told you," he snapped. "For your own good." He turned and stalked toward the door, but before he opened it, he paused. Sera could see his tenseness in the set of his back, could almost feel the conflict tearing him up inside. He turned to look at her, and she involuntarily took a step backward at the fierce expression on his face.

"Gods," he muttered as he crossed the room to her and pulled her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers in a brutal assault. His arms went around her, pulling her close, molding his body against her, and still his lips never left hers. He seemed to be pouring his soul into the kiss. She could feel the length of him pressing hard against her, and it sparked an unfamiliar ache deep inside her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he continued to feast upon her lips as if he were a staving man.

He broke free at last and caught her chin in his hand. "You do as I say," he said in a low, miserable voice. "Understand? I can't lose you."

Sera nodded her compliance quickly, and he released her and strode from the room without saying another word. She sat on the edge of the bed, her entire body shaking from the savageness of his embrace. She'd been kissed before; she and Andros had spent a good deal of time together. Although things had never progressed beyond a certain point, they had shared more than a few kisses. None of them compared to Iphicles', however, nor had a man ever made her feel like this before. She had no idea how to assuage the ache he'd caused inside her. She lay down and curled up on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself, still shaking from the encounter. Could she do as he asked? Allow the Sovereign to do with her as he desired? The mere thought of the man touching her was enough to make her gorge rise.

A stealthy noise caught her attention, and Sera sat up quickly. It sounded something like metal scraping across stone. She glanced toward the doorway to her cell, but no one was there. Then she looked down, and lying in the slot at the bottom of her door was a small dagger. She slid off the bed and walked over to the door, her eyes searching the hallway beyond for signs of who might have left the weapon. No one was about. Quickly, she bent and scooped up the knife, and then she went back to her cot and secreted the weapon underneath the straw mattress.

Had Iphicles left it for her, for protection, should the Sovereign call for her? Or had it been someone else? Well, it really didn't matter; she was relieved to have a weapon. Regardless of what she had promised the prince, she had no intention of allowing the Sovereign to touch her. She'd kill him first. With pleasure.

Several excruciatingly long days passed, and Sera had almost convinced herself that the Sovereign had forgotten about her when a guard came into her cell, his mouth stretched in a wide mocking grin. "The Sovereign wants to see you," the scruffy-looking man said, his grin growing even wider. He rubbed his bristly chin as he gazed at her with eyes shining with malicious mirth. "And your lover the prince ain't here to protect you, is he?" he added with almost unholy glee.

Sera stiffened at the man's words. She stood regally and tried to brush past him, but he roughly grabbed her upper arm and dragged her from the cell. She had to struggle to breathe; his stench was almost overpowering. He led her up into the castle proper, his fingers gripping her hard enough to bruise.

Sera surreptitiously ran a hand along her side. She'd cut a piece of material from her old dress to fashion a scabbard of sorts around her upper thigh, then cut a slit in the seam of this gown so that she could reach the knife quickly should she need it. Luckily, the dress was full enough so that the added bulge didn't show. She'd been forced to wear the same dress for three days running now, but she didn't really care much about that, not with Iphicles gone. She bit back hysterical laughter. Maybe if she smelled bad enough, the Sovereign would send her away.

The guard led her to a door, then knocked lightly. When he received a reply, he opened the door and shoved her inside, closing the door quickly behind her.

Sera looked around the room, searching for her captor. Faint sunlight filtered in from outside through several arrow slits in the wall. A large bed dominated the room. Chains hung on both the headboard and footboard, and skulls sat atop each post. A full-length mirror sat on the opposite side of the bed, also decorated with skulls. A balcony jutted out over the bed, its base formed from more skulls, and against the far wall hung a rack of clothes, each identical: dark leather pants and vests formed from black leather straps studded with silver. There was no doubt to whom these chambers belonged.

"Welcome," a silky voice said from the shadows. Sera turned, and the man who haunted her nightmares stepped forward into the light. Again, she was struck by his handsomeness, but when he smiled, she could clearly see the evil in his bright blue eyes. Somehow, the very fineness of his features made his malevolence seem even more horrible.

He came forward to stand beside a table, and he poured two glasses of wine. He offered one to her, but she shook her head and stayed by the door. He smiled as if she amused him, but he said nothing. He took his glass and drained it, then walked over to the bed and lay down, propping himself up on one elbow as he studied her.

"I have to apologize for neglecting you," he said. "I have been quite remiss in my duties as host." His smile widened as he added with a promise in his voice, "I'll have to do my best to make it up to you."

Sera remained still and silent. She wasn't going to make this easy on him. She dropped her right hand to her side close to the knife, prepared to draw it at a moment's notice.

The Sovereign didn't seem upset by her silence; if anything, it seemed to amuse him more. "I understand my brother has been keeping you company," he said.

Sera stiffened. Iphicles was right; someone HAD been spying on them.

The Sovereign noticed her reaction, and his eyes began to twinkle merrily. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret," he said in a confiding tone. "By the time we're done today, you won't want him anymore. I've been told by many women that I'm MUCH better in bed than Iphicles." He paused for a moment, and his eyes seemed to blaze. "Even by his wife."

Sera felt the color drain out of her face. His wife? Iphicles was married?

The Sovereign began to chuckle. "I see he never mentioned her," he said. "Poor Rena. He married her for her stepfather's kingdom, and then he abandoned her and her child for the glory he could find by my side. It's very sad, really. I don't believe my brother has ever truly loved anyone or anything in his entire life, except for the power he gains from serving me and the bloodletting of battle, of course. He DOES seem to thrive on killing. I'm sure you noticed that when he visited your home."

The man was watching her closely. Sera tried not to give away the emotions that were threatening to overtake her, but she was reeling from his words. She shut her eyes and tried to calm herself. Unfortunately, when she opened them again, he had risen from the bed, and he quickly crossed the room in two long strides to stand before her.

He placed a hand on each side of her, effectively trapping her against the wooden door. Instinctively, she placed her hands on his chest to keep him at bay. She could feel the beat of his heart through the strong muscles of his chest, a slow, steady rhythm, a sharp contrast to the terrified beating of her own heart.

"Despite what the guards are saying, I know my brother hasn't touched you," he said softly. "He fears me too much to dare that. But you won't be missing out. I'll show you what it's like to be with a REAL man." His blue eyes seemed to bore into her, and then he bent down and covered her mouth with his own.

Sera automatically began to fight him as he kissed her brutally, and when she felt his tongue trying to force its way into her mouth, she grabbed onto his bottom lip with her teeth and bit down as hard as she could. The hot coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, and the Sovereign jerked back, startled. He wiped at his mouth, and when he saw the smear of red on his hand, he grinned madly.

"Oh, I like it when they fight," he growled and came at her again.

Sera tried to slip out of his grasp, but she wasn't fast enough. His mouth was on hers again, crushing her lips cruelly. She felt his teeth nipping at her, and she cried aloud as he bit and drew blood himself. She scratched wildly at his bare chest, and he backhanded her. She was senseless for a moment as stars seemed to explode in her head, but when he ripped open her gown and began to paw her breast, her head cleared magically. She inched her hand down and slipped the knife from its berth, and then she pulled it back and plunged the blade into the Sovereign's black heart.

At least, she TRIED to strike him in the heart. He'd obviously divined her intent somehow, and he twisted away so that the dagger simply scratched across the bare skin of his chest, drawing only a thin line of blood.

"You little wench," he growled, grabbing for the hand still holding the knife. He bent her wrist cruelly, forcing her to drop the blade. Sera screamed from the pain in her arm, then watched in dismay as the blade slid across the floor out of her reach.

"You'll pay for that," the Sovereign snarled. He wrapped one large hand around her throat and began to lift her off the floor. He held her up against the door, sneering up into her face, and she began to scratch at his fingers with her uninjured hand, to no avail. His brutal grip was keeping out much needed oxygen, and the world began to turn gray around her.

Suddenly, a curious noise came from behind the Sovereign, a whoosh accompanied by the flapping of wings. Through her dimming vision, Sera saw a being appear behind the demigod, a man with short spiky blond hair. His handsome face was graced by a trim blond goatee and mustache, and oddly enough, a pair of coal-black wings grew from his shoulder blades.

The Sovereign heard the noise as well, and he turned his head, mercifully loosening his grip on her throat enough so that she was able to breathe again.

"What do YOU want?" he asked impatiently. "Can't you see I'm busy here?"

The newcomer smiled beatifically. "Don't mind me. I'll just watch."

The Sovereign lowered her so that her feet were on the floor once again, his fury disappearing as he studied the new arrival. Sera stared at the man, and it finally dawned on her that this was Cupid, the God of War. He was frighteningly beautiful. He wore a short skirt made of black leather over tight leather pants, and his magnificent chest was bare except for a single strap connected to a quiver full of deadly looking arrows. At his side was the largest crossbow she'd ever seen. She shuddered slightly. She'd heard tales of Cupid, his madness and his lust for blood. She had been thankful for his intrusion at first. Now she wasn't so sure that his visit boded well for her.

"Look, nephew," the Sovereign said, obviously struggling for patience. "Can't you just come back later? I'm a little busy here."

Cupid's eyes narrowed. "How about I don't come back at all?" he snapped. "If you didn't want me here, you shouldn't have summoned me."

Confusion skittered across the Sovereign's face. "I didn't summon you."

"No, Uncle Hercules," Cupid said scathingly, emphasizing the demigod's name. "XENA did. She said something about a special delivery for the old man? Zeus? Hello? Any of this ringing a bell?"

The Sovereign glanced back at Sera, and then he shot the God of War a warning glare. "Not in front of the girl," he growled.

Cupid crossed his arms across his chest and flashed an anticipatory grin. "Well, dispatch her then, and let's get on with it. I don't have all day, you know. The Spartans are planning a war against you. I want to be there to watch all the fun. I do hope you annihilate them."

The Sovereign shook his head. "I'm not going to kill her. I can use her against Iphicles."

One perfect eyebrow arched high. "Iphicles?" the god echoed in obvious surprise. "I thought he gave all that up after you forced him to marry that Rena person."

The demigod snorted. "He seems to have fallen for this one," he sneered, nodding toward Sera.

"Amazing," Cupid observed. "I suppose I can understand it, though. She's a luscious little number, isn't she?" He stooped to pick up the knife lying on the floor. "And she's got spirit, too. I like that."

"Look, just send her back to her cell, and let's get on with this," the Sovereign ordered impatiently.

"Oh, very well," Cupid snapped. "Later," he said to Sera, waving his hand.

A sickening feeling of vertigo washed over her, and the world blacked out for a moment. She shut her eyes tightly, and when the feeling went away, she opened her eyes to find that she was back in her bed in her cell once again. She tried to struggle to a sitting position, but the pain in her injured wrist and throat grew almost too great to bear. She lay back against the pillow, hot tears filling her eyes. She should never have tried to kill the Sovereign. When she'd found the knife, she should have used it to end her own miserable life.

Iphicles tried to ignore his weariness as he watched over the guards leading the prisoners into the dungeon. The Sovereign had been correct. Gravis WAS the leader of the rebels; they'd discovered his camp not too far south of the castle. A day of tracking and a day of reconnaissance followed by a fierce battle had netted them a lovely catch, for they'd trapped not only Gravis, but a good portion of his gang as well.

The leader had been separated from his men and taken to a special holding cell to await torture. As Iphicles watched, the last of the raggedy looking band of rebels were herded into a large cell. Most of them were careful not to meet his gaze, except for one lone fellow with a rather large nose who couldn't quite seem to keep his hatred from showing as he was pushed into the cell.

Only when the door was locked behind the group did Iphicles allow himself a small measure of satisfaction. His brother ought to be pleased with the day's catch.

Since he was here in the dungeon anyway, he rationalized, he might as well stop by and check on the princess. He'd convinced himself that the girl was safe; surely Xena was keeping his brother much too sated for him to bother with an untried virgin. Iphicles stalked down the dank passageway, his brain filtering out the moans of agony all around, until he came to her door. His heart beating faster than it had a right to, he unlocked the door and entered the room.

At first, he thought she was simply asleep; all he could see was a small shape lying curled on the bed. When he moved closer, however, he saw her features more clearly, and his heart seemed to stop. Her mouth was swollen to twice its normal size, and if he wasn't mistaken, there were teeth marks imprinted on her lip. A band of horrible purple and black bruises ringed her throat, and her right arm lay across her chest, the wrist bearing more bruises and swelled up horribly.

"Gods," he swore, bending down and touching her face. "Seralyn, can you hear me?"

The girl groaned, but she didn't answer. He picked her up in his arms and strode from the room, bellowing at the top of his lungs for a healer. The head guard ran up as if to stop him, but one large boot placed strategically in the center of his chest sent the man flying back against the far wall, where he slid down to unconsciousness.

Iphicles carried the girl to his bedchamber, then lay her gently on the bed. He brushed back her chestnut hair, a terrible tight feeling in his chest making it hard to breathe. He'd kill his brother for this. He'd forgiven Hercules a lot over the years, but this time he'd gone too far.

The healer scuttled into the room just then, and Iphicles stepped back and let the man do his work. Luckily, the wrist was not broken, and the man bound it quickly. He shook the girl to consciousness and forced her to drink a potion, and although she fought him and coughed horribly as he poured the liquid down her throat, in only a few short moments, she fell into a deep healing slumber. The man left, and once Iphicles assured himself that the princess was truly asleep, he went in search of his brother.

A great celebration was taking place in the main throne room. The room was thronged with people, all laughing and talking gaily. Iolaus cavorted in front of the throne, and the air was punctuated by the Sovereign's laughter at the little blond jester's antics. Xena lolled across the demigod's lap, an expression of supreme boredom on her face as the little man jumped around in front of the throne, spouting jokes and singing at the top of his lungs.

Iphicles threaded his way through the crowd until he reached the throne. His brother spied him, and his entire face lit up with something resembling delight. Iphicles immediately went on guard; something was not right here.

"My brother," the Sovereign called loudly over the noise in the room. "You're just in time for the celebration."

Iphicles stared at his brother. "Then you already know?"

"Know what?"

"That we captured Gravis."

A wide smile crossed his brother's face, and he pushed Xena from his lap, stood, then came forward and held out his arm to clasp his brother's. "That's wonderful news!" he exclaimed. "The icing on the cake. You've done well, Iphicles. I never should have doubted you."

Iphicles glanced at Iolaus, but the jester had beaten a hasty retreat and was hiding behind his master, the spineless coward. Then the prince looked at Xena, but the woman was busily examining the nails on one hand as the other lightly tapped against a gaudy round medallion she wore around her scrawny neck. "What's happened?" he asked.

"You should congratulate me, brother," the Sovereign said heartily. "I'm getting married."

For one awful moment, Iphicles thought the Sovereign meant Xena, but he quickly decided he was wrong when an almost pained expression crossed the woman's face. "To whom?" he asked curiously. Surely, Nebula hadn't returned. The Sovereign's other mistress would never have tolerated Xena's presence.

"Only the Queen of the Gods," the Sovereign announced, his face full of unholy glee. "In two days time, we'll be man and wife, and I'll be ruler of Olympus. And, as my most loyal subject, you'll be by my side, brother."

Iphicles stared at Hercules in shock. The Queen of the Gods? "But how?"

The Sovereign began to laugh. "Let's just say dear old Dad is feeling poorly, and unless Aphrodite marries me, he might not pull through."

Black horror seemed to fill Iphicles. The noise of the revelers all around him seemed to vanish as a roaring filled his ears. His brother. The most bloodthirsty monster in Grecian history. King of the Gods?

The Sovereign clapped him on the back. "And you've brought me the best wedding present I could have asked for. We'll separate Gravis' head from his neck, and I'll have him stuffed as a new decoration for the ceremony. What do you think about that?"

Iphicles finally found his voice, but unfortunately, the only word that came out was, "Seralyn." His horror increased at his folly. Where had THAT come from?

The Sovereign's face darkened for a moment, but that wicked grin quickly returned. "I have to say, brother, I can understand now what you see in her. She may look like a little mouse, but there's a tiger hiding in that body. We had a rousing good time together. I haven't had so much fun since . . . " He paused, glanced at the woman by his side, and his eyes began to sparkle with mirth. "Well, since this morning," he announced, eliciting a pleased giggle from Xena.

"You've served me well, brother," the Sovereign declared. "And since I AM about to be married, the princess is of no more use to me. You can have her, Iphicles. I broke her in for you, so I think you'll find her a more than willing bed partner."

Iphicles stared at his brother, unable to say a word. No words were necessary, however, as the Sovereign turned to pull Xena into his arms for a bruising kiss. When he released the woman, he grabbed Iolaus by the scruff of his neck. He wrapped his arms around the jester and his mistress, and then he said, "After I marry Aphrodite and go to Olympus, the three of you will be by my side. Together we'll crush all the puny mortals on this insignificant little world who oppose me, and I will reign supreme. No one will be able to stop me." He threw back his head and roared loudly.

Xena wrapped herself around the Sovereign, her hands rubbing up and down his chest in wild abandon, and Iphicles could take no more. As his brother bent to kiss the woman again, he slipped out of the throne room, his gorge rising with every step as he thought back over what his life had become.

Despite what everyone thought, even Hercules, he'd never hated his brother. When they were children, he'd loved the boy, even though Hercules never let anyone forget who his father was. His brother would always take on the harder chores, anything to show off his superior strength, and Iphicles never had to worry about older kids picking on them. He knew that Hercules would make short work of anyone threatening either one of them. It was only as they grew older, after their mother had abandoned them, that Hercules had grown intolerable. He began to think of nothing but what he called his 'great destiny'.

After watching his father work himself to death on their worthless farm, Iphicles had decided to become a soldier. Once Hercules was old enough to take care of himself, Iphicles left home. He earned his way as a paid mercenary, using his superior warrior skills to rise high in whatever army he served. He was a master with a sword, no man had ever bested him, and he'd never lacked for employment. He was happy with his life, sure that he was using his skills to the best of his abilities. He was growing richer and more powerful with each passing year, and then he began to hear tales about his brother.

Hercules was slowly amassing power; he had built a formidable army and was systematically taking over province after province. Iphicles' interest was peaked, so he sought his brother out. Hercules had seemed genuinely happy to see him after all the years apart. Over a jug of wine, he convinced his brother to stay and join his army, to lead at his side if that was what he desired. He promised Iphicles riches beyond his wildest desires, and one day, a throne of his own.

So Iphicles had joined his brother on his bid for supremacy. He quickly laid to rest any complaints that he had attained his position by kinship alone. He joined in the fighting with a vengeance, killing anyone and everyone who got in his way. Soon, he was leading his brother's army, as much by right as by blood.

Then his brother had set his sights on Gorgus' kingdom. Unfortunately, Gorgus was a formidable man. He was a good king, and he had a very well trained army, men who served as much for love of their king as the joy of soldiering. Hercules knew that a frontal assault would be useless. Instead, his brother worked out another plan. He'd convinced Iphicles to woo and wed the king's stepdaughter, Rena. The plan had worked superbly, and as soon as the two were married, Hercules infiltrated the court and built up so much support within, that he soon had the power to take the throne. He threw the king into the deepest darkest dungeon, and then he announced to the world that he was now the Sovereign. He did grant Iphicles the title of prince, but unfortunately, he'd also saddled his brother with a selfish wife that Iphicles could barely stand to bed. It was plain to him that Rena would have much preferred to wed his brother, but Hercules would not be tied down that way, not for a single kingdom. Iphicles and Rena had stayed together just long enough to make a single child, and then he had left her behind to follow Hercules. Rena didn't seem to mind. As long as he funded her rather extravagant lifestyle, she left him alone.

Relieved at getting off so easily, he'd gone with his brother, serving him willingly, doing his bidding, taking the army farther and farther afield, crushing kingdom after kingdom. The more he fought, the higher the walls inside him grew, until he could hack his way across a battlefield, killing and maiming at will, man, woman, or child, and never feel a single hint of remorse or regret. He became more and more invaluable to his brother as he became more and more empty inside.

He'd thought he'd grown accustomed to feeling nothing, until the day he'd visited the court of the Argosian king with demands from the Sovereign. They'd entered the throne room and interrupted the king and his youngest daughter in a game of chess. The princess' youth and beauty and her father's obvious deep love for her had stirred up emotions inside Iphicles that he had thought long dead. Even after they'd departed with most of the king's treasury and harvest, he'd been unable to get her off his mind. Unfortunately, when he'd described the girl to the Sovereign, he'd peaked the man's interest, and Hercules had decided to absorb Argos into his growing empire. Iphicles was relieved that he'd agreed to spare the girl's life, but in his heart of hearts, he'd dreaded what his brother would do to her.

He had been so right. The Sovereign had taken the only thing that was pure and decent in Iphicles' bitter life and ruined it. But then what had he expected? His brother was the Sovereign now. Ruler of Greece. Everything belonged to him. When he ruled Olympus, the entire world would be his.

As far as the woman was concerned, he really should have known better. All women were whores. Just look at his own mother. While his father had been slaving away on the farm, she'd been off entertaining the King of the Gods. Women were good for only one thing, and he'd been a fool to think otherwise. He'd been looking for something that didn't even exist.

Iphicles slammed his door open, obviously startling the woman inside. She was still lying in bed, but she was awake. She sat up when he entered the room, pulling the bedcovers close to her breast and staring at him with wide blue eyes. He ignored her for the moment. He unbuckled his belt and removed his sword, then began to remove his leather armor. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, saw how she flinched when he began to remove his clothes, but he didn't care. She couldn't play the innocent with him any longer, not after having bedded his brother. Hell, for all he knew, she'd even been with that boy from Sparta. Suddenly, he wanted to punish her, for what he didn't know.

"Iphicles?" she asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Iphicles poured himself a cup of wine, then drained it in one quick draught. "Wrong? On the contrary. Everything's fine. I've delivered the leader of the rebels to my brother, and as a reward, he's given you to me."

"What?" the girl whispered in shock.

"You're mine," he snapped, slamming the cup down on the table and sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. When he was down to just his breeches, he turned to look at her. "To do with as I please," he added cruelly.

Her eyes widened even further, but when he reached for her and took her into his arms, she didn't protest. He pushed her back on the bed and covered her body with his own. He kissed her brutally, plunging his hands into her hair and capturing her head so that she couldn't move. His groin was throbbing painfully with pent-up desire, so he ripped away the thin dress she wore, rendering her naked beneath him. He was too far gone for foreplay; he simply unfastened the opening of his breeches and released himself, then positioned his shaft at her opening and plunged inside.

She gave a cry that might have been pain when he entered her, but he couldn't stop himself. He pounded into her, trying to punish her, but in reality, punishing himself. For bringing her to the Sovereign's attention, for leaving her alone for his brother to toy with, for believing that something pure might actually exist in this dreary world. He continued to thrust into her, trying to work the poison out of his system. He buried his face in her hair, and some part of him wondered why the soft locks were damp with tears, but he quickly forgot the thought as an orgasm slammed into him. He exploded within her, groaning as he spilt his seed deep inside her. When he was spent, he rolled off her, thoroughly disgusted with himself for reasons he couldn't name.

He couldn't even look at her. He leaned over and blew out the candles on the beside table, then lay back and covered his eyes with the back of his arm. He could hear her sobbing quietly beside him, but he could offer her no comfort. He fell asleep at last, listening to the sound of her soft weeping.

Seralyn came out of sleep suddenly as a light flared in the darkness, and she groaned at the aches and pains that pervaded her body. She glanced over to see Iphicles sitting on the side of the bed with his back to her as he ran his fingers through his sleep tousled hair. Memories of the night before flooded into her brain, and she shuddered and inched away from him as she remembered his assault. Her sister had been right; what took place between a man and a woman in bed was a nightmare.

Suddenly, the prince made a strangled sound. He turned to look at her, and, before she could stop him, he'd whipped the bedcovers away from her, revealing her nude body.

"No," she cried, reaching for the covers, but he stopped her. He was staring at something beneath her, and when Sera followed his gaze, she realized that the sheets underneath her and her inner thighs were stained with blood. She flushed hotly.

Iphicles released the covers and stood, and Sera quickly pulled them up to hide her nakedness. The prince stalked around the room in growing agitation.

"By the gods, what have I done? I thought . . . he said he . . . " He broke off, and then he exclaimed, "You were a virgin!"

Sera's brow furrowed. "I thought you knew that. Isn't that why the Sovereign wanted me in the first place?"

"Well, yes," Iphicles admitted. "But I thought while I was gone he . . . " he trailed off, his gaze traveling to the ring of bruises around her throat.

Sera shook her head quickly. "Oh, no. He started to, but I tried to stab him and he got so mad he forgot about it."

Iphicles paused in his pacing to stare at her. "You tried to stab him? Where did you get a knife?"

"You didn't leave it for me?" she asked curiously. When he shook his head, she explained, "Right after you left, someone slid it under my door. I thought it was you."

He shook his head again. "It wasn't me." He brow furrowed in thought, and then his face cleared. "It was probably Xena. I doubt she was too thrilled about his plans for you. She must have thought you'd do just what you did, and he'd kill you for it." He paused, startled. "Why DIDN'T he kill you?"

"The God of War showed up," Sera replied faintly.

Iphicles gazed at her for a long moment, and then he nodded. "That makes sense. They're poisoning Zeus somehow. Cupid must be helping them transport the poison to Mount Olympus. My brother is not exactly welcome there anymore. And he and Cupid have always been . . . close."

Sera nodded. "Cupid did mention delivering something to Zeus. But then he sent me back to my cell, so I don't know what else they talked about."

Iphicles' expression became suffused with guilt. "I can't believe I did that to you last night," he said in a low voice. "I'm no better than HE is." He turned away from her, his head bowed, the muscles in his back tense.

Sera slipped out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her, then went forward and tentatively touched him. "No, you're not," she said softly. "He's a monster."

He whirled around, fire in his dark eyes. "Aren't I? After all I've done to you and your family, how can you even stand to look at me?" He glared down at her, his chest heaving with passion.

Sera cocked her head and studied his beautiful face. She reached up a hand and lightly brushed his cheek. "You're not like him. I know you've done some horrible things in your life, but unlike your brother, it's eating you up inside."

Iphicles stiffened at her words, and then some internal dam seemed to break inside him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, burying his face in her hair. "Gods, Sera, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Please forgive me. I'm so sorry."

They stood that way for a long time, each holding the other, and at last, Iphicles pulled away. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said softly, picking her up and carrying her into a small antechamber off the bedroom. A large wooden tub took up most of the room, and steam rose from the surface of the water. Sera stared at the tub in amazement, then glanced back at the prince.

A small smile crossed his lips. "There are natural hot springs near the castle," he explained. "Hercules hired this Roman to pipe the water up into some of the bedrooms. When the job was done, he killed the man so no one else could use him."

Iphicles gently unwrapped the sheet from around her, then helped her into the tub. Sera hissed as the hot water hit her myriad injuries, but once she was seated on the wooden rim that circled the inside of the tub, she relaxed and let the water flow over her. The heat of it seemed to be drawing out her pain.

Iphicles picked up a cloth and pulled her close to him. "Let me," he said, his voice oddly rough. Sera tensed, but when he began to wash her breasts, first the bruised one, and then the other, his touch was so gentle that she finally relaxed. She shut her eyes and leaned her head back as the tender rubbing began to send tendrils of fire throughout her body. She murmured softly as he dropped the cloth and began to use his fingers to caress her, and then she gasped as he replaced his fingers with his lips. She whispered his name as he began to suck, but then she tensed again as his hand moved down over her belly and below.

He retrieved the cloth and began to wash the blood from her thighs. Suddenly, the soft flannel touched the small nub above her opening, and the fire that had been building up inside her ignited. Sera's eyes flew open to see Iphicles smiling softly down at her as his fingers began to caress her below the water. Each touch made the flames climb higher, and almost despite herself, her body began to rock in time with his strokes. She closed her eyes again, making small sounds of contentment as he continued to stroke her. Suddenly, the flames built to unbelievable heights and exploded within her. Her entire body shuddered, and she cried aloud at the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her.

Once her body had come down from the heights, she opened passion-drugged eyes to gaze at the man beside her. She reached up to touch his face with wonder, and he turned his head and brushed her hand with his lips. He pulled her over onto his lap, and she tensed when she felt the hard length of him beneath her. Then his mouth found hers and his fingers began to caress her again, and soon she was awash in ecstasy.

He slid one finger inside her, and for a moment, there was a little pain, but it vanished so quickly that Sera soon forgot it. He began to move that single digit in and out of her gently as his lips moved over hers, an exploration this time instead of a conquest. Soon she was moving in time with his thrusts, urging him in deeper and faster. He complied, adding a second finger, and then a third, opening her wide for him. She began to moan softly as a strange ache began to grow inside her, an ache she didn't quite understand, but Iphicles knew what she needed. He picked her up and poised his shaft at her entrance. His dark eyes bored into hers, and when he saw her acquiescence, he gently slid into her.

There was some pain as her body adjusted to his size, but as he began to move slowly in and out, that pain was quickly lost in a pleasure so intense that Sera could barely breathe. He kept his movements slow and smooth, taking his time, building the pressure up inside her to astronomical proportions. She wrapped her arms around his neck, entwining her hands in his sweat-dampened locks, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he continued to thrust up into her. He began to move faster, breathing harder and pushing into her deeper each time. She felt another orgasm upon her, and she clutched him tightly as her body exploded once again. She hung onto him, breathing his name over and over as her body shook and convulsed around him. Then, with a low moan, he thrust deep within her one last time, and she felt a new heat filling her deep inside.

He breathed her name, and then his mouth covered hers, kissing her deeply. He began to rain kisses all over her face, and she hugged him close, amazed at the feelings he'd aroused in her. How different was this man now compared to the one who'd taken her last night. And oh, how wrong her sister had been!

Hours later, they lay in bed, their bodies entwined and sated from lovemaking. Sera had never known pleasure such as this existed; part of her wished they never had to leave this room, but she knew that was impossible.

She turned her head to look up into his beautiful face. "Let's leave this place," she said.

Iphicles chuckled. "I'm rather fond of this place right now," he confessed teasingly. "Besides, I doubt I could go anywhere if I wanted to. I'd probably fall down if I tried to get out of bed."

Sera shook her head. "That's not what I'm talking about. Let's leave the castle. I don't trust the Sovereign, and I don't believe he plans to allow you to remain at his side while he rules from Olympus."

Iphicles' expression turned thoughtful. "With the powers of a god, he certainly won't need me to lead his troops."

Sera rolled over onto her side, propping herself on her elbow and studying her lover closely. "He made you into what you are, Iphicles. If you leave here, then you can be the man I know you are deep down inside."

Iphicles began to shake his head. "You don't understand, I've always been this way. I get more pleasure from killing than any man has a right to."

"But now?" she persisted. "How do you feel now?"

Iphicles studied her closely, and at last, he sighed deeply. "I'm tired of it, Sera. I'm tired of the blood and the killing and the hate. And this world will be even worse if my brother rules Olympus."

There was a small silence, and then Sera offered, "You could kill him."

Iphicles stiffened. "No," he said vehemently. "Despite everything, he's still my brother. If I were to kill him . . . I'd be no better than him."

"Iphicles," she began, but he waved her to silence.

"No," he stated. "I won't do it. Not that I think it CAN be done. He's been poisoned and stabbed before. He was even hanged once. Nothing has been able to kill him."

"But if Xena has something that can kill Zeus . . . "

"Don't ask this of me, Sera," he pled. "I can't."

Sera sighed deeply. "Will we stay here then?" she asked.

Iphicles shook his head. "No. I don't want to do that either. There's nothing for me here, now. And eventually, when he realizes just how much I DO care about you, he'll try to ruin it. He thrives on ruining other people's lives." His brows drew together as he thought of a way out of this predicament. "We could leave. Head north, away from all the fighting. If we go far enough, he shouldn't be able to find us."

"Then let's go," she implored him. "I don't want to stay here. I'd never be safe, and besides, I've heard how the guards refer to me."

Iphicles mouth turned down in a slight grimace. "Yes, 'Iphicles' whore'. I've heard that as well. I haven't been very circumspect where you're concerned." He turned to look at her, and his expression was sad as he said, "Sera, if you come with me, you'll still be considered a whore. I can't marry you. I'm already married."

"I know," she told him softly. "The Sovereign told me."

Iphicles' eyes widened. "You knew? But why did you . . .?"

Sera shrugged. "Last night you didn't give me a choice, but later? I can't explain it, Iphicles, but I've grown to love you. I know you're done some horrible things in your life. I know you're wed to another woman. You hide all your emotions so deeply that everyone thinks you're an inhuman monster with no feelings except the love of killing, but I know that's not true. I love you. I don't understand it, but I do. It doesn't matter to me what people call me. I still want to be with you."

Iphicles' dark eyes studied her, trying to divine the truth behind her words, and at last, a smile broke across his lips. "Gods, but I love you," he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. "I thought my life would never change, that I was as much of a monster as my brother, but you've transformed me." He hugged her closer still, burying his face in the richness of her chestnut hair. "They'll be executing Gravis in the morning. We'll leave then, when they're all occupied."

Then he captured her lips once again, and for a long time, no more words were spoken. The only sounds inside the room were the cries and whispers of love.

And so, the next day, as the drums began to pound and the guards led the rebel leader, Gravis, to the block where the executioner waited, Seralyn and Iphicles rode away from the Sovereign's castle.

"Do you think we'll ever return?" she asked.

Iphicles shrugged. "Who knows. His rule can't last. Someday, someone will get fed up enough to overthrow him, and then maybe we can come back."

Sera smiled. "It really doesn't matter. I'll be happy, as long as we're together."

Iphicles smiled down at her, and then he pulled her back against him, hugging her closely as the horse galloped toward the north, away from the past, and away from the looming edifice of the Sovereign's castle.

The End

Author's Note: "Ruminations on the Alternate Universe and Iphicles"

As you may have noticed, I'm fascinated with the alternate universe idea. I think this is my fourth story dealing with it in some fashion, although this is the first one that dwells completely in that world. This subject has fascinated me for years, ever since I saw the Star Trek episode "Mirror Mirror" in which Kirk and several of his crewmembers are accidentally switched with their alternate universe doubles. In that world, Kirk had murdered his way to the top and the alternate universe Spock had a beard (gee - sound a little familiar? Why do these guys equate beards with evil?). That episode ranks as one of my all-time favorite Star Trek episodes, as "Stranger in a Strange World" and "Stranger and Stranger" rank as two of my favorite Herc episodes. (The God of Love will always be my favorite character from that world, but unfortunately, he just didn't have a place in this story; it's too dark. But I did manage to sneak in a mention of him!)

In watching the two Hercules episodes, however, I realized that it wasn't simply a case of 'if you're evil in one world, you're good in the other.' It seemed to me the writers took a person's most defining characteristic in one world and made him the polar opposite in the other world. The Iolaus of our world is probably the bravest man alive. Hercules has his superior strength and Zeus' protection order to fall back on, but Iolaus has nothing but his own skills. That doesn't stop him, though. He fights right at Herc's side, risking his life constantly, even losing it on occasion. To me, he's braver than the man he follows. The alternate Iolaus is basically a coward. Not an evil man, just a coward (but interestingly enough, he didn't remain a coward. With the right influence, he became a 'hero,' too). The Joxer of this world is a bumbling fool who thinks if he sings about his prowess enough, people will start believing it. The alternate Joxer is a hell of a fighter, but he's more circumspect with his reputation. And, of course, there's the Sovereign. Hercules defines the word 'good' in the Hercverse; his counterpart is the epitome of 'evil' in the alternate world. I expect Salmoneus would be a great philanthropist in the alternate universe, giving away his wealth at any opportunity.

So this train of thought led me to another: what about poor Iphicles? As usual, Iphy was ignored. He wasn't even mentioned in either episode. But what would he be like? Would he be 'evil' or 'good'? What exactly are Iphicles' defining characteristics?

Well, first, he's jealous of Hercules. They've spent two of the four shows he was in exploring that issue. Second, he's very passionate about things. Hence his love for Rena and his willingness to lie to win her, his devastation at her death, his fury at the soldiers for taking him away from his wife when she needed him the most. Third, he lacks self-confidence, the root, I think, of his jealousy for his brother. I don't think Iphicles ever felt he could measure up to his half-god brother. Fourth, he's quick to act without thinking through the consequences as he did in "War Wounds" with his handling of the war veterans.

Based on those defining characteristics, I made my alternate Iphicles just the opposite. He's supremely confident in himself and his abilities. He's not jealous of Hercules; he simply uses his brother to get what he wants. He thinks things through carefully, and, although he IS a hard man, a cold man, even a brutal man, deep down inside, he's not evil. He's never questioned his life before until Sera's appearance strikes a chord deep within him and makes him step back and take a look at the path he's trod. She brings down the walls that have kept him aloof from his emotions and his fellow man, in much the way that Hercules freed Xena.

I've always been fond of Iphy, mostly because he is so wonderfully portrayed by Kevin Smith. I feel the powers that be missed some very powerful story lines by ignoring Hercules' mortal brother. But in the writing of this story, I became a great deal more fascinated with the alternate Iphicles. He really grew on me. He wouldn't shut up until I had his story told! It was really kind of fun writing him, because in a way, he was my own creation. I didn't have to worry about keeping him in 'character' since they'd never even mentioned him before. But now that I've written him, I think he'll always hold a small part of my heart, and I hope you've enjoyed my interpretation of him.