CALLISTO
by Feonix


Even over the roaring of the banked campfire, and the muttered talking going on between the group of men gathered around it, the snap of a twig from just outside the firelight was audiable. Silence reigned for a shocked second as everyone froze, searching the darkness with blinded eyes for the source of the sound.

These men with no exception carried the appearance of a solid band of ruthless and determined killers. Up until recently they had been a part of the army of the mighty Warrior Princess Xena, but their leader and a few like-minded men had decided that they could go it alone. Deserters were tracked and punished usually, but Xena was busy. They had chosen their time well, leaving when the rest of the army had been preparing to overrun a town, and thus had escaped undetected. That had been two weeks of long hard travel ago, to take them back into territory Xena had already conquered and thus had no reason to lead her army back into. The appointed leader of the band, a man named Tarsius did not fear pursuit, but now at the sound of this intrusion those thoughts rose again.

"Who goes there?" Tarsius had a deep baritone, and the sound of his voice ringing out against the darkness mobilised the rest of the group behind him. Blades were drawn, filling the air with rasping sounds, and leather creaked and chainmail jingled as the six men stood. They were all tall and well built, with armour crafted especially for each of them. Their weapons were of good quality, and well cared for, and the firelight now flickered from the six swords as they weaved uncertainly in all directions as the standing men turned around to see all sides of the firelight.

"Answer me or we come out!"

"Please don't hurt me?" a tiny voice issued from the darkness. It was sufficient for all the warriors standing there to locate the direction of their quarry, and they all turned to face it.

"Then show yourself!" Tarsius called again, his tone still harsh, though he was wondering who approached them at this late a time in the night. His fears of Xena had receded when the voice had called out. It sounded like a young girl. A young frightened girl. Now, Tarsius was a professional soldier, and such a sound was very sweet in his ears after two weeks of no female company. Assuming she wasn't ugly. Which she wasn't.

Tarsius was not the only man of his group to gasp in supprise at the awkwardly standing figure who had stepped into vision. Dressed in an open cloak, with leggings and a shirt belted at her narrow waist, no girl stood before them, but a young woman of dazzling and child-like beauty. Shooting glances at his companions in the sides of his vision, he could see the expressions of his followers. Stunned incredulity, awe, awkwardness and lecherous intent all swam across the features of all those watching.
The girl was thin, but not unattractively so, and she stood to Tarsius' chin which made her short. Long ash blonde hair poked out from under the hood of her cloak, enhancing the physical aura of vulnerability that seemed prominent. It was this, coupled by her stunningly delicate features arranged in a confused and tired expression that aroused the lusts of those men present. Taking strength from the fact that he had five men to his back, ready to respond in an instant if there was trouble, he lowered the sword that had leapt to his hand with years of practice upon hearing the intrusion. The blonde girl swayed slightly, and he motioned forwards.

"Come here girl!" his imperious tone snapped her head up and she levelled her eyes at him for a second before dropping them quickly. A second was all he needed to feel the heat that emanated from those portals. So she didn't like being ordered around, eh?. Tarsius nodded, almost to himself. That was a habit they would break from her quickly.

"Who...who are you?" her voice was weak and trembled.

"We are warriors from the mighty Warrior Princess Xena's warband. She sent us to exact tribute from the lands she has conquered." it was a lie, but it had kept the group fed and equipped during their flight. The sound of Xena's name had never before failed to invoke fear and instant obedience in all who heard it, but this girl was different. The look she gave him was one of supprise and dawning comprehension. But it only lasted a moment before the tired and exhausted veil again settled.

"Do you have any water?" the request was made in a voice that oozed vulnerability, and it didn't fail to encourage grins and the whetting of lips from those before her.

"Of course. Please, sit by the fireside. You must be tired." the change in Tersius's voice was amazing, going as it did from the harsh leader of men, to that of a concerned individual who wished to help. Sheathing the sword at his belt, he took a half step forwards and reached out his hand towards her, beckoning, with a warm and winning smile settled over his face. This little beauty would get more than water when she stepped into his reach.

Slowly, with tired reluctance the girl stumbled forwards. Just as she reached him, she tripped on the uneven ground and ended up hung onto his arm with a grip that supprised him. Behind him he could hear the rest of his companions sheathing weapons and exchanging smirks and comments in low tones. They were looking forwards to the nights and days ahead with this strip for company. It would do them good to have this reward, after all they had risked running away from the army as they had done.
The girls hood had fallen back, revealing a full mane of long blonde hair which cascaded down over her shoulders. She was pressed tight against him, and the smell of her was strangely unusual. Burnt wood was the overall scent, with a hint of something else.

"You are with Xena?" her whisper was for him alone, and was almost rich with promise. He nodded, a frown crossing his features as he tried to identify that illusive scent. He learned too late what it was, however.

Iron. The coppery smell of iron was the taint in this innocents aura. And suddenly the smell intensified. The girl had slipped her hand up under his right armpit for support as they stood, but now she dropped her grip and swayed back slightly. Tarsius reached for her with his right arm, and was amazed to find that it wouldn't work! The smell of iron again wafted across his nostrils.

"What is my name?" she said in a low voice, all pretence at exhaustion vanished and a cold and calculating look spread chillingly across her childlike features. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing faster. Why wouldn't his arm work? The answer to that was in the girls palm.

A thin knife, nothing more than a razor sharp blade with a stub of a handle rested loosely in her grip, its sharp edge completely clotted with orangey-red blood. His blood. The blade had been so sharp that he had not noticed it pierce his armpit. With a strange sense of detachment he thought that if she had penetrated his body to the full length of the blade, it would have penetrated his lung. That meant that he was dying. He looked up at her to see a wicked look glistening in her eyes as she watched closely as the first of her uncountable victims expired before her. He coughed, a wet sound issuing from his throat as the lung filled with his life-fluids. Absently his skin registered the feeling of warm stickiness as blood leaked from under his arm and down between his flesh and the armour he was wearing.

"Who...who?..." he managed to gasp, the death rattle prominent in is throat.

"I think I already asked you that?" a momentary look of confusion spread over her face before being replaced just as speedily with one of amused tolerance as she watched the man before her die.

Tarsius staggered backwards a step, feebly pushing her away from him. The push was his final expenditure of energy as he fell backwards towards oblivion. As he had pushed her, the girl had calmly wrapped her free hand around the grip of his sword, and as he fell dead to the ground, she used his momentum to draw it from its sheath. The sound drew the attention of all the other five men there.

"Who's next?" she said brightly, head cocked to one side with a cheerful smile plastered across her face. Her eyes however betrayed the concentration that she was exercising, and they chilled any man who looked at her. But these were trained soldiers, and now that Tarsius was out of the way, the leadership of the band was up for grabs. No mere girl was going to stand in anyone's way. The warriors began to circle her.

It had been glorious, watching the life leave that man's body. Not for a second did she have any regrets. He said he was with the bitch Xena, so he was responsible for her village. That was the reason he died. That was the reason they all had to die. But now, as she watched these six professional killers circling her, a tiny flicker of doubt rose within her. If she died now, she would not be able to have her revenge on the bitch. That had been her motivation these last few weeks.

A month ago she had been happily at home, with her mother and father and siblings. Well, as happy as ever, which wasn't really very much at all when she looked back on it. Her mother she hated, her father she didn't speak to, and the rest of her family she had despised. No-one in her village much liked her anyway. But now they were all dead. Better off really. She was the only survivor of her village, Xena had seen to that.

And now, she was getting her revenge, and it was sweet. If, that is, she survived the next few minutes. What do you mean if?, she thought to herself, I've come so far and survived too much to fail now. I won't let myself fail!

With a sudden lunge she slashed out at one of the circling warriors, breaking the tension and screaming shrilly to vent her anger and frustration. It worked as a distraction and her sword found the mans face before he could react. Steel kissed flesh in a lethal embrace as the girls blade was inexpertly rammed home between the mans eyes. With a judder and a slight choking noise he stiffened up his own weapon falling from unresponsive fingers as his life slipped away. So enraptured by the moment was she that all else faded into oblivion. And thus she was taken by supprise from behind.

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around her tiny waist and lifted her from the ground, whilst the remaining three soldiers all circled around her. Dropping her sword was an unconscious gesture, and she momentarily felt annoyed for letting that happen. She flailed for a moment at the unseen assailant behind her, but to no avail. Then something amazing happened. A feeling of complete calm settled over her, and she ceased struggling, to better experience it. Her mind felt all the exhaustion and pain of the last few days fade away, and she could feel a powerful presence replace them. Who or what it was a mystery to her, but it gave her strength and focus like she had never felt. Then sharply, her eyes returned to the scene before her and the imminent danger she was faced with.

Two of the men before her had sheathed their weapons and were approaching, their reaching hands and greedy eyes eager to take all that they could from her before she was killed. All of a sudden, she just knew that if she were to brace herself in a certain way against the one holding her from behind, she would be able to kick both of these men without moving. The look of anger all over her face was replaced by one of complete happiness, and she grinned at the two soldiers, stopping them short in confusion.

"Do you want to play with me?", she asked, some of the former shyness of her tone evident but her eyes were wide with the thrill of knowing what she would do. Taking courage from each other, they again edged forwards, both thinking that perhaps this girl was fey, mad, and that was why she had been wandering around at night. But mad she wasn't.

The warriors came at her shoulder to shoulder, and when they were within reach, she acted. Slapping her hands securely against the man behind her, she pushed upwards and lashed out with both feet, feeling great satisfaction as she connected with two chins at once. Her blows snapped two heads backwards sharply, and two grown men hit the floor, unconscious. That had felt even better!

A grunt of supprise from behind her, and a shift in position told her that the man who had her was doing something, and again, without knowing how, she knew what to do. Arcing her hands upwards and back, she struck with both fists at the two sides of his neck, and his reflex action was to let her go to stop the blows landing, which he did.

Nimbly she slipped from his grasp, turning to face the two remaining warriors with an evil grin. Her expression, so far out of place on her features, looked supernatural as she was illuminated by the flickering light of the camp-fire. This, and the fact that she had beaten four grown soldiers gave her the pause she needed to scoop up a new sword from the ground, where one of those she had kicked had dropped it.

Awkwardly she untied the clasp about her neck that held the cloak around her, and when it fell to the floor, she felt her speed and mobility increase. The rictus grin and flashing wide eyes only served to unnerve the two before her further, and as she began to edge towards them, they began to back away.

"Oh, come ON guys?, don't you want a little fun to?" she paused, her expression a chilling mix of amusement and deadly intent. "In case you can't count, there is only one of me you know. Surely two big strong men like you can handle little old me?" changing again her face looked supprised and slightly hurt at her own insinuation, but it did what she had expected.
Reminded that they outnumbered her two to one, the two warriors began to space themselves apart, edging forwards as they did so. Their unspoken plan was the simplest in history, take this girl from two sides at once. She couldn't defend against them both. But the fact that she just stood there and watched as they took up positions either side of her was uncomfortable, like she knew something they didn't. And her grin, her whole body and posture displayed the fact that she was enjoying every minute of this, like it was a game. And that thought put backbone back into these two men as they both thought it. A game was it?, they'd show her!

The two warriors charged her simultaneously, chanting warcries and weaving blades in time honoured patterns of death. But she knew that this was going to happen. They got closer and closer, one from her left and the other from her right. But she knew this was going to happen. Still, she paused, totally relaxed and with the corners of her eyes she watched in relaxed observation as these two charged in.

At the last second before their blades touched her flesh she leapt upwards, to a height that she had never before achieved, and screaming in anger she dropped on the two men from a great distance. They had pulled up short to avoid crashing into each other, but now just stood unable to move as death bore down on them.

Both her feet smashed into the face of one, and her blade lodged in the top of the head of the other. And both slumped to the ground as she rolled to her feet as though trained to from birth. Breathing heavily, though not through physical exertion, she stood for ages, replaying the delights of killing these men. Time passed and she realised that two of those she had fought weren't dead. A slow smile spread across her features. What fun could she have with them?

Moving swiftly to where the two lay, she stood over them, a small frown creasing her smooth forehead as she wondered what to do with them. One of them moaned slightly, and rolled over, making her decision for her. Swiftly she straddled him across the stomach, and taking from his belt a wickedly sharp knife, she began to run the tip of its blade across the mans face, slicing and gouging gently, but with great concentration. It wasn't long before he woke, screaming in pain at her ministrations. Swiftly, she turned and with the heel of her hand slapped at his groin, causing all his stomach muscles to contract and him to scream all the more. But it did stop him from wriggling around. Experimenting, she dipped the knife into his flesh under the armpits, watching as small pools of red liquid soaked into the ground. It was just like playing an instrument, a sensitive, responsive instrument which made the music of Tartaris itself!

With a face covered in red blood, which dripped into his eyes and down his nose into his throat, she could feel the fear that this man, this hunk of flesh was extruding into the atmosphere, and it drove her on, exciting her.

When there was no more free space on his face, she moved to his neck and continued her cuttings downwards. For the moment she stayed away from the two large veins either side of the neck, for she knew that to pierce one of them was to end this fun prematurely. His screaming had been reduced to hoarse sobs and gasps for breath.

With practised ease she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lent forwards until her mouth was level with his ear. Almost tenderly she whispered to him.

"What's my name?..."

She stayed there, crouched over him like a bird of prey until it became obvious that he wasn't going to answer. Then, with an annoyed expression she stood swiftly.

"If you can't answer me, then you're not worthy to know." she raised her foot and stood balanced on one leg for a short second, before driving her heel deep into the mans throat, crushing his windpipe . Just another case of her knowing without being told exactly what to do and how to do it. She then stood there and watched as new activity stirred the injured man to claw at his throat and issue gasping and wheezing noises for a few minutes, getting weaker and weaker by the moment. She stood watching until he stopped moving altogether. The she looked up sharply to meet the gaze of the one surviving warrior.
He had been watching, all pretence at playing the proud and fearless warrior vanished like smoke before the young girl's fire. Jaw trembling, limbs weak from shock and a mind too stunned to think anything like normal. She grinned at him, a playful, happy, childlike grin, her fingers absently rubbing at a few of the red stains on her fingertips. The bloody knife was in her grip still, and it was all he could do to keep his gaze flicking from that to her eyes and back.

"Ddddon't...."

"Kill you?, hmmm, well." she raised one delicately red tipped finger to her bottom lip, and looked skywards as though considering the request. After a moment of mock pondering, she locked eyes with him again, which forced him to flinch.
"No, I won't kill you. I have something more interesting in mind." for the first time, she scanned her head from one side to the other, taking in the whole campsite, looking for something. Finding it, she levelled an admonishing fingertip at the prone man before her.

"Don't you go anywhere, now. I'll be right back." a few strides took her to a pile of the men's belongings, from which she extracted a coil of heavy rope. Hefting that in one hand and the knife in the other, she turned back to the fireside and the man.
He didn't object when she rolled him over, but he trembled violently whenever she laid a hand on him. Smiling to herself, and humming a half forgotten tune as she worked, she tied him hand and foot, and then taking the longer end of the rope, she looked around again.

The nearest trees were just outside the firelight, off to her left slightly and it was towards them that she dragged the man. Pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow and catch her breath she eyed the tree in the twilight. Its branches were tall enough and strong enough to support the man's weight, she estimated, and it would provide a marker for the bitch Xena to know that she had done this. Giggling to herself she bent down to the man and gently patted his cheek. The one eye that she could see was wide with terror and it widened when she smiled agreeably down at him.

"Don't worry. I won't kill you. You might want me to in a little while, but I won't be here. Think about that, won't you?" a pitiable expression spread across her face with the end of the sentence, then it snapped back quickly to a roguish grin.
Standing again she hefted the end of the rope and picked out a branch about twice the height of herself. It took two throws to get the end over the branch to her satisfaction, and when it was over, she began to pull the man up. It took all of her concerted strength and body weight to get him off the ground by a few inches, and tying the remainder of the rope around a protruding stump at the base of the tree finished off any reserves of energy she might have had.

Staggering slightly, she walked away from the creaking tree, and threw herself down onto one of the men's sleeping rolls. Heedless of the fact that she was surrounded by corpses, the young girl slept very soundly, relishing the first uninterrupted sleep that she had had since her village had been destroyed.

Waking with the crack of dawn, she stretched, yawned, and casually eyed her handiwork of the previous night. As though it was the most natural thing in all the world, she stood and surveyed again the corpses around her, still and lifeless in the casual embrace of death. Her eyes replayed the events of the previous night and each death gave her a sense of warmth within that not even the sun could match. Hugging herself and swaying slightly, she walked towards her final triumph.

The tree had indeed been strong enough to hold the weight of the man, strung up by the feet as he was. He was swaying slightly in the breeze, and his eyes snapped open when she carefully tapped him on the side of his head with the tip of her boot.

"Good morning!, sleep well?" she asked cheerily, eyeing him with a smile. He refused to meet her gaze, which only made her smile more. crouching down, she reached out and set the hanging man spinning slowly, patting him now and then to change the direction and speed of movement like a cat playing with a mouse before the kill. But she wasn't going to kill him. No, he had a higher purpose.

"You know," she said as she spun him around, "you're really quite lucky. Not only am I not going to kill you, I'm going to give you a message to give to someone. Do you think you can do that for me?" her tone changed to a wheedling whine, and she cocked her head on one side before continuing.

"I want you to tell Xena," she spat the name out with venom, " who did this. I want you to tell her who will come for her. Who will avenge what she did to me." she paused, considering.

"Can you remember all that?" her only reply was a slight upside down nod of his head as he finally met her eyes. She favoured him with a warm grin before continuing, revelling in the stark fear that still resided within the portals to his soul.

"Tell her, tell her my name. Callisto," she reached out and stopped him swinging, rotating him and lowering her head to his eye level, "say it. What's my name?"

"Callisto." the whisper was quiet and laced with a thick brew of fear and terror.

"Again. Louder."

"Callisto." she nodded approval and straightened up. reaching out quickly she spun him viciously, a mischievous grin plastered across her face.

"Don't forget now. Tell Xena when she finds you."

"They're all dead, Warrior Princess. Except the one hung to the tree. We cut him down but he keeps babbling something about `a message'." the report of her lieutenant was brief and accurate. With a nod of dismissal, the tall well muscled female warlord dismounted from her horse swiftly. After quickly sacking the town she had meant to take her time over, she had followed the trail of her deserters personally, bent on a bloody vengeance for her betrayal. An evil expression settled over her wide face with high cheekbones. Her cornflower blue eyes crackled with a repressed energy with spoke of trouble for anyone who upset her, and her hands clasped and unclasped, as though wishing to lay hand on either the sword on her back , or the steel and gold throwing disk at her waist. People had been known to loose more than their heads with a wrong action when she was in this kind of a mood.

Her scouts had discovered the remains of the campsite yesterday, and she had ridden at full speed overnight with a hand-picked party of the best warriors she had at her command to view the remains of the traitor Tersius and his renegades. But what they had reported had confused her somewhat. It had looked to both her scouts and her experienced eye that the six armed and armoured men had been fighting only one assailant. That worried her. She didn't like competition, and someone good enough to take six of what she grudgingly accepted as her best warriors by supprise was someone to be feared.
Striding boldly forwards, she reached the site at the foot of the tree where the pitiful excuse for a warrior lay stretched out, his bonds cut to restore circulation to blue limbs, and one of her own men was trickling water down the man's open throat. Upon her approach the rest of the men, hardened warriors all saluted and made way for their leader. Her black leather armour creaking, she knelt by the man's side, and evaluated his condition.

To have survived for two days without water meant that he was terminally dehydrated, he wouldn't live for much longer, regardless of how much water they poured down his throat. A few bruises were the only sign of his struggle, aside from rope burns from hanging upside down for so long. His mind was obviously beyond help as he was babbling and drooling, eyes wide and looking everywhere. She grabbed his face by the chin, and forced him into eye contact.

"Who did this to you?" her tone was low and deep, and it seemed to impart some sense of order to the obviously mad man's mind. His eyes, wide and bloodshot locked to hers, and for a moment, she imagined that she could feel the man's terror, leaking out into the world. She shook his chin again, determined to get an answer.

"Who?, who was it?"

"Callisto. Her name was Callisto." he repeated over and over in a hoarse and dry tone, his eyes wandering away from hers.

Again she shook his face to get his attention.

"Who is she?, why did she do this?"

"She wants you. She hates you. Callisto wants. Callisto hates." his litany changed its tune, and the barest hint of amusement crept across his face and again his mind wandered. After several more forceful questions and shakes and slaps across the face revealed nothing more, Xena stood.

"His mind is gone. Have his body join it." she dismissed the pathetic specimen as she turned back towards her waiting mount. Long strides took her to his side, and she mounted swiftly. Looking back she saw one of her men draw a blade across the man's neck, and his repetitive mutterings ceased abruptly. The rest of her party mounted up quickly, aware that Xena was eager to move on.

Gesturing her lieutenant to take the lead, she rode a little way apart from her troops, thinking. Who was this `Callisto'?, and where had she come from. Her mind turned up a blank as she tried to remember a list of her enemies and anyone who might want to harm her. The list was long and included many powerful people, but that didn't bother her. A warlord was better defined by his or her enemies than his or her friends, as it showed daring and skill to stay alive. But now she had another name to add to this list, one to which she could not place a face or even a motive, but one who was willing and capable of killing as ruthlessly as she.

"So," she murmured to herself, allowing her mount to follow on behind the rest of her party automatically, "I have a new enemy. Beware Callisto, wherever you are. I will deal with you in worse ways than you dealt with Tersius."

Swiftly she urged her horse onwards to catch the rest of her men. Time was wasting, and there were things to be done.

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