AUTHOR'S NOTES: Apart from my Mel and Janice stories, this is my first attempt at uber fiction, so please be kind. It's a uber-reincarnation story + normal uber story (descendants), so it's a bit complex. I hope you like the final result, though.
WARNING: This story contains scenes of physical abuse, and implications toward it, but not overly graphic. If this material disturbs you, feel free to find another story.
DISCLAIMER: Xena and all other names you can recognize from the series belong to Rob Tapert and company. All the fancy names belong to me. :) I tried to mix German, English, French, and Celtic linguistics (wherever the case applies) into the names, since this takes place in the olden days.
Comments are very welcome at zimamcfru@hotmail.com
Mildred worked at a feverish pace in the kitchen, careful not to create a mess. Her husband Lescon was to return soon, and if she didn't have his meal ready the moment he walked in, she was in for trouble. She was distracted today, a grievous mistake. Her daughter Katrina ws late, for the eighth time this fortnight, and Lescon's patience was rapidly wearing thin. She prayed to God that her daughter would return soon.
It was Lescon who came back first, though. "You better have that pig warm and tasty, Mildred. I could eat a whole herd."
"It's on the table, dear," said Mildred.
He plopped himself down at the table and rapidly devoured the meat. "Very good, I approve," he said. Mildred breathed a sigh of relief. "Where's Katrina?"
Mildred inhaled sharply. "Oh, Katrina, she-she's..."
"Where is she?" he bellowed. "She's gone again, isn't she?"
Mildred stammered an answer.
"Wonderful," he said, exasperated. "That girl has too much freedom. She should start living locked in the home like you." He slammed down his piece of meat. "When I'm through with her, she won't be able to leave home for a week."
Mildred could only nod. Lescon would turn his anger on her if she protested.
Katrina returned an hour later. She waved goodbye to her fellow fighter. For the last few weeks she had been working toward getting a position in the English army. The increasingly male-dominated army, though, was very reluctant to let her join. Katrina had the advantage of having well-renowned female fighters in her family history, so that made her more valuable. Her skill was also quite impressive. Katrina felt that pretty soon they would let her join.
Nearing the house, she took off her shoes and gathered her dress, reasoning that the less noise she made the less chance her father would hear her. She was just sneaking past the front door when it slammed open and she was yanked inside. "Where have you been, you disobediant girl?" demanded Lescon.
Katrina gritted her teeth at the pain in her arm. "I wasn't gone that late."
He let go of her arm and bent low, saying in an even, cool voice, "Tell me where you have been. I want the truth."
Katrina fidgeted nervously.
"Tell me the truth," he snapped.
Katrina gulped. "I-I'm just trying out for-"
"For what?" Lescon said impatiently.
"Th-the ar-army," she stammered. Mildred paled.
"The army?" asked Lescon, incredulous. "What servant of Beelzebub convinced you to do such a thing?"
"I just want to be like my grandmother, and my aunt, and-" said Katrina.
"Well, you're not them," said Lescon coldly. "You are my daughter. You will do what I say. I don't need any daughter of mine with insane ideas joining the army."
"But-" said Katherine.
Lescon slapped her. "*You* will do what I say from this day forward. You are to stay in this house until you marry. You will work with your mother, and give up any ideas of being a soldier."
Katrina glared. "I know I'm meant to be a soldier. I have the talent. I appreciate your concern, but I need to find my own life. Please, at least let me fight once in a while in battle."
Lescon's eyes darkened. "I see you need to learn obediance. You will regret your hardness before the night is through."
"Are the passengers ready to sail?" asked Brenough, captain of the Iolais.
"Almost," said his second-in-command, Grenack. "We still have a few getting their weapons."
"Tell them to hurry up," said Brenough. "The sooner we get to Denmark, the better." Grenach nodded and headed off.
"Excuse me sir," said a female voice. Brenough turned to find a worn, haggard young woman. She had bruises and cuts to her face and extremities, her clothes were torn and dirty, and she looked emaciated. "I need pasage off the isle. It's important. I've been running for three days and I need rest."
Brenough snorted. "Well, I can't help you. This ship is headed for battle in Denmark. I don't think anyone else could help you either. No captain will let you leave your husband."
"It's not my husband, it's my father," said Katrina.
"You still won't find any help," said Brenough. "You're better off swimming to the mainland. Best of luck."
Katrina was desparate. She finally found a place to hide in the bottom of the boat, and wasn't discovered until they arrived in Denmark.
"What is it about horses, Reischa?" asked Wegra, the medicine woman's latest patient of the day. Reischa was bandaging the young woman's head. "I swear, that horse has had a bad temper since the day I got him. If he throws me one more time, he'll be dinner."
Reischa pushed her raven-dark hair out of her face. "Maybe you're just approaching him wrong," she said gently. "If you treat a horse right, it can be your best friend. It can be your best company when your alone. Don't just treat him as something to ride, be friends with him."
Wegra scoffed. "You're treating him like a person. Animals don't have feelings."
"You might be surprised," said Reischa, finishing the bandaging. "I once had a horse who was my best friend. She had a personality just like you and me."
"So where's your good friend now?" asked Wegra, but now she had a wry smile.
"Oh, she's long gone," said Reischa. "I still remember her well, though." Reischa dropped her arms. "There you go. Just take it easy today and tomorrow, you should be fine in no time."
"Thanks Reischa," said Wegra, getting up to leave. "Have a good day."
When she was gone, Reischa started cleaning up the house. Involuntarily, she began thinking of Argo, her long-dead faithful stead. Even after 700 years Xena still regretted missing half of Argo's life. She regretted many of the things she'd missed during twenty years as a Roman slave. Reincarnation usually shielded her from the memories, but whenever she discovered her past life, the pain also returned. Not every incarnation resulted in her remembering her past self. She'd had five or six blank times. But it was her first incarnation that always stood out.
Then the door opened a crack. "Reischa," said Negrov, a young woman from next door. "There's a woman coming in the village. It looks like she needs medical attention."
"I'll be right there," said Xena. She grabbed a few supplies and went out the door.
Reischa's eyes widened when she saw the young woman. A bruised and worn body did little to hide the woman's beauty. She had an envious shape, dark brown hair, and puppy dog-brown eyes. She was marred by old wounds in various stages of healing, not bathed in at least a day, and an apparent lack of food.
"I'm a doctor, I can help you," said Xena in the Teuton tongue.
"What did you say?" asked Katrina wearily.
Xena recognized the accent of the English. She had learned the languages of the isles through a few incarnations, so she was able to switch more easily to English. "My name is Reischa, I'm a doctor. I can help you."
Katrina's eyes widened. "How do you know English?"
"I have many skills," Xena joked. "I promise I'll explain one day. Come on, I'll help you."
"Thank you," said Katrina.
"So what brings you to Germanic lands?" Xena asked as Katrina made herself comfortable as possible before examination.
"I want to start a new life," said Katrina. "I've had a talent for fighting, and so have most of the women in my family for generations. Trouble is, the English army is becoming intolerant of female fighters, and I figured a more primitive land would be more suitable to fight in."
Xena harrumphed. "Katrina, if you want to get along in this land, believing you're superior won't help." Katrina winced as Xena medicated her back. "This rib, is it particularly painful?" asked Xena.
"Yes," said Katrina through clenched teeth. "My father kicked me hard the night I left."
"How long have you been gone from England?" asked Xena.
"Almost thirteen days. I had to pass through a war zone, otherwise I could have been here sooner," said Katrina.
Xena continued to treat Katrina as they chatted. "Katrina, I promise I'll help you to fight. I hate the idea of you travelling to more dangerous lands."
Katrina was elated. "Thank you," she said, smiling weakly.
Xena looked in on Katrina after she fell asleep. This young woman was so fragile, but she had a strong heart. Wait, it was the other way around. She was physically strong, but emotionally weak. Why did she have the confusion? Xena concentrated, and she realized why.
She knew the woman. Not the woman herself, but an ancestor. She knew this woman's ancestor. But who was she related to? Xena knew meditation or dreams would help her figure it out.
Over the next several weeks Xena and Katrina became great friends. Katrina had some trouble adjusting to Germanic culture, but before long only some of her upbringing was apparent.
Xena didn't know yet who the young woman was related to. She had decided to make friends with her first before going a step further.
Then when Katherine was out one night, Xena snuck into her tent. If there was just some proof.... She found some crude paper next to Katrina's bed. She discovered that it was a few sketches. She knew Katrina wasn't as good with pens as she was with a sword, so Xena guessed they had to be from home. The first two appeared to be sketches of the English countryside.
It was the third that made her heart skip a beat. Except for a mustache and neatly trimmed hair, the portrait looked just like...
"What are you doing?" asked Katrina, looking furious.
Xena looked a bit sheepish. "I couldn't help straigtening the room up, Katrina." She put down the sketches. "Where did these come from?"
Katrina blushed. "My uncle Justin is a great artist. That's his portrait, we had someone else do that. You should see some of the works he's done."
Xena couldn't help being amazed. "Can you tell me anything else about him?"
Katrina smiled. "Well, he's kind, he's funny, a bit eccentric. He breaks things a lot, but he's a fun man." Katrina looked lost in some memory. "I wish I knew how he was doing. I wish I could write to him." She then stretched. "Can I have some time alone tonight? I'm not feeling great yet."
"Fine," said Xena gently. "Let me know how you feel tomorrow, all right?"
Katrina nodded as she prepared for bed.
Xena had a thousand questions floating through her mind as she went back to her house. The main one was how Katrina could be such a great fighter when her apparent ancestor was Joxer.
Katrina tested the weight of her sword. She hadn't used it since she left England, since her injuries left her weak. She spun it in circles, her wrist easily turning and making smooth movements. Good, her strength was back to normal. She was about to sheath it when a heavy footstep sounded nearby. She spun around, sword drawn.
"Calm down, calm down, I'm just here to see to the hourses," said a young man, putting his arms up and giving a nervous smile.
Katrina lowered her sword. In halting Teutonic, which Reischa had taught her, she said, "Sorry. Can't be too careful around these parts."
He looked at her, interested. "You're the foreign one, right? I've heard about you."
"Good things, I hope," said Katrina. "My name is Katrina."
He offered his hand. "Hansgert. I work the stables." He saw Katrina surpress a giggle. "What is it?"
Katrina blushed. "I'm sorry, it's just your... um, never mind."
He looked at her strangely. "Well, you seem like a great girl. Maybe we can meet again sometime."
"All right," said Katrina. As she left, she couldn't help thinking about Hansgert's gorgeous green eyes.
Over the next month, Katrina and Hansgert became a couple. Xena was happy to see that at least one of Joxer's descendants was lucky in love. She had seen Joxer's heart broken by Gabrielle one too many times before they'd finally fallen in love. Katrina still didn't seem to know how to be romantic, but Hansgert apparently could see beyond that flaw.
The two women were practicing swordwork one afternoon when Xena decided to tell Katrina the truth. "You've gotten better," she said, parrying.
"Well, thanks for the special moves you taught me," said Katrina, continuing her offense. "Thanks to you, I feel great about myself. We've fought off so many enemies."
Xena switched to offense. "So, do youthink you'll stay here for good?"
"Definitely," said Katrina. She lowered her weapon and wiped her forehead. "Reischa, these have been the greatest four months of my life. I could never have made it in England. I could never repay you for helping me live my potential."
Xena smiled. "come on, let's have some dinner. I would like to chat."
Katrina smiled, and they headed toward Xena's house. "You know, Reischa, I've always wondered. How can a gentle doctor like you fight like Bodaceia in her moon time?"
Xena laughed. "Actually, I met Bodaceia myself."
Katrina chuckled. "That's impossible. She lived a thousand years ago."
"I'm serious," said Xena. "Have you ever heard of reincarnation?"
"Actually, no," said Katrina. "Does that mean you live forever?"
"Um, no," said Xena. "It is an ancient eastern belief, where the body dies but the spirit lives on through the ages."
Katrina looked unconvinced. "So how old does that make you?"
"A thousand years," said Xena simply. "I was a warrior, both for good and evil. I have been a woman of peace since, but I've always had the warrior spirit."
Katrina stopped and turned to her. "Why are you telling me this? It sounds believable, but how do I know this isn't just some fantasy you've made up?"
Xena pursed her lips. "I can't make you believe, and I know it sounds crazy. The truth is, you are descended from a good friend of mine."
"How can you be sure?" asked Katrina, now amused.
"Your uncle, Justin. I saw his self-portrait, and he looked *exactly* like my friend," said Xena. When Katrina looked unconvinced, Xena pressed on. "Tell me. Does your uncle enjoy music, act shy, or appear uncoordinated?"
Katrina looked surprised. "Yes, he does. How would you know?"
"Families tend to pass on many traits from one generation to the next," said Xena. "It may be small or obvious, but something passes on."
Katrina looked pretty overwhelmed. "Katrina, I only felt it would be fair for you to know. You can keep it just between us if you wish," said Xena.
Katrina blinked. "All right. Just as long as you tell me some adventures. I mean, from... before."
"It's a deal," said Xena.
Over the next few weeks, Katrina learned more about Xena's past. She wasn't too fond about some adventures, but she was fascinated by the history.
"It seems you and Reischa are hitting it off," said Hansgert as he walked with Katrina one afternoon, hand in hand. "It's amazing that two such beautiful women are better fighters than doctors."
Katrina laughed. "Give Reischa some credit, she's great at both. My hands aren't steady enough around medicine."
"I can keep them occupied," said Hansgert wickedly.
Katrina smiled. "Next month, darling. I want to be married first." They heard a horse approaching. Katrina froze.
"What is it?" asked Hansgert, concerned. "It's only one man."
"It's my father," said Katrina, alarmed. "Quick, run!"
"But-"
"Run!" she demanded. She almost yanked him in the opposite direction and they took off, but Lescon quickly caught up. He stopped directly in front of them.
"Thought you'd be rid of me forever, my child?" said Lescon, sternly. He grabbed her by the arm and forcefully yanked her from Hansgert.
"Father, how did you-?" asked Katrina.
"I did not even try to find you for several months," said Lescon. "I had heard you went through Denmark, and I assumed you died in the war. Then I hear stories from returning soldiers about fighting women in the Teuton area. Some troops from this area were brought there, and they passed on the story. I came and found out you were one of them."
"You know it's me, so why don't you just go?" said Katrina angrilly. "I've made a life for myself here, and I'm not giving it up without a fight."
"You are going back with me," said Lescon. "Women aren't meant to fight, it will only get you killed."
"Since when do you care about my well-being?" said Katrina. "For a father, you're not very loving."
"I care more ever since your mother nearly died of grief, thinking you were dead," said Lescon. "Watching her waste away changed me more than you know."
Katrina faltered.
"Please, Katrina," said Lescon. "Your mother needs to know you are alive. Get away from this savage land and live a proper life."
"Don't, Katrina," Hansgert broke in, coming to her side.
"Who are you?" said Lescon coldly.
"My name is Hansgert, Katrina's betrothed," he said. "You heard the lady, she has found happiness here, and I refuse to let her return with you."
"She will go back," said Lescon, gripping Katrina's arm tighter.
"Wait, wait," said Katrina. "I should decide where to go."
"A proper lady defers to her father," said Lescon.
"No," said Katrina. "It should be my decision."
"You will not-" Lescon was interrupted when he was pulled off his horse suddenly.
"I see you need some help," said Xena, keeping a choke hold on Lescon.
"Thanks, Reischa," said Katrina. "Maybe you can hold him while for a few hours."
"Gladly," said Xena as Katrina and Hansgert left. "Now, daddy dearest, let's you and I have a chat."
"Is he truly changed since the last time I saw him?" Katrina asked later.
Xena sighed. "He may have changed a little, but his soul is still dark. It takes much more than just a few months for someone to change themselves. Most never do, and I'm afraid your father might never. Once violence becomes your answer to everything, you can never really reform. I think you knew that."
"I couldn't help wishing he had changed," said Katherine. "When he said those things about mother, he seemed sincere in his feelings. Then he turned on Hansgert, and I saw his old self again." She sighed. "But, I feel I should go back to England. My mother needs me, if nothing else."
Xena sighed. "Well, if that's what you want, I won't stand in your way. Will you fight?"
"I'll find a way," said Katrina firmly, "and I'll take Hansgert with me."
"Have you asked him if he wants to go?" Xena asked.
"He was not sure, but he understands that I love my mother," said Katrina.
"I'll make sure your father goes home on a different boat," said Xena. "It's too bad he can't be thrown in prison for all he's done to you, but I will pray for your safety."
"Thank you, Reischa," said Katrina, hugging her. "Did you ever do something like this for my ancestor?"
Xena smiled. "Trust me, I helped him out of many scrapes. He was a good man, and I'm glad to have known you both."
By a stroke of fate, Lescon's ship was sunk soon after leaving port for England. Katrina reunited with her mother in England, and Mildred eagerly welcomed Hansgert into the family, though like Katrina she had to look past the "savage" image. Xena continued her dual existence as doctor and fighter through the rest of her time as Reischa, with a new appreciation for Joxer and his family.