Chapter 10

Gabrielle, Goddess of Death

“Gabrielle, don’t you see what what’s going
on? How can you keep doing this, knowing . . . .”

“Xena, I can’t let them die! I’m the Goddess
of Healing, you know that! How can you ask me to just . . .
?”

“But you’re playing right into Ares’ hands!
Every time you Heal one of these soldiers, they go right back into
battle. How many times do they have to kill other soldiers, or
innocent villagers, before you realize what you’re doing is
WRONG?!”

“So I’m supposed to let them suffer and die just
because they’re warriors? Besides, how do you know I’ve
Healed them more than once?”

“Come on, Gabrielle, think about it. How many times have
you taken us to battlefields just like this? And how many soldiers
and warriors have you Healed. Surely, you must realize you’ve
saved the same ones over and over.”

As Gabrielle surveyed the field of battle strewn with the dead
and dying, she said, “I have to go to them, Xena. I have to
do what I can to save as many of them as I can.”

“I know. But do this – you have a god’s
memory; look into their faces as you Heal them. You’ll know
if you’ve saved them before. Will you do that?”

“If it’s that important to you, yes, I will. Now, I
need you to help bring them to me. You know who needs my help the
most. And you can get those whose wounds aren’t as severe to
help. You’ve done this many times before. If you don’t
mind.”

“Gabrielle, I don’t want to see anyone suffer, no
matter which side they were fighting for. Of course I’ll
help.”

As Xena began to organize the walking wounded, Gabrielle 
went to the first fallen warrior, a boy in his mid teens. She knelt
down to him and placed one hand on his side, covering the gaping,
bleeding wound where he’d been stabbed by a sword and then
cut open as it was jerked out of him.

As the soft violet glow emanating from her hand began the
Healing, Gabrielle looked into the boy’s frightened eyes, but
she had never seen him before. It may have been his first
battle.

“So young,” she said softly, the sadness evident in
her voice. 

When she was finished, the boy sat up, grateful that the pain
was gone and that he was alive.