“Some time passed. And in that time, Lao Ma learned that Xena had made a terrible mistake, causing a powerful head of one of the largest families in China to turn against her. With the help of her warlord-lover, she was captured and handed over to the man, who sent her into the forest and set his hunting dogs after her.”

“Guess she wasn’t so smart after all.”

“No. She was young and full of hate. She thought she could bend the world to her will. She found out just how wrong her philosophy was.”

Kael resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in her chair, very much aware of the mirror being held up to her eyes. “Did …ah …did the dogs get to her?”

Though she did not say so, Lao Ma could easily detect Kael’s increasing discomfort with the subject matter. Perhaps a breakthrough would come this evening. “Fortunately, they did not. Lao Ma happened to be in the right place at the right time and was able to offer assistance to Xena, who accepted it.”

“Fortunate indeed,” Kael replied. Smiling to herself, the young American steepled her fingers. “It occurs to me that this …tale …is sounding more and more familiar as time goes on.”

Lao Ma nodded sagely. “Left unchecked, history does tend to repeat itself.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Care to explain that?”

“I think the explanation will reveal itself in time.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Kael flicked her hand. “Continue then.”

“In time, Xena came to love Lao Ma, becoming my ancestor’s most passionate student. She had an amazing capacity for learning. She soaked up Lao Ma’s teachings as a sponge soaks up seawater. In time, she learned to let go of her hatred and subdue her ravenous will.”

“Did Lao Ma love Xena?”

The Asian woman’s face softened. “Very much so. It is said that Xena was her greatest love. And because of that, some believe, she failed in her mission.”

“What was her mission?”

“To unify all the families in China.”

Kael whistled. “Your ancestor sure didn’t dream small, did she.”

“Indeed not. But while her intentions were pure, her desire for peace throughout the land took her away from her philosophy. And, some believe, it all started with her desire for the Warrior Princess.”

“The ‘Warrior Princess’?”

“Yes. That was the title my ancestor bestowed upon Xena. Through the use of her strong sword arm, coupled with the powers Lao Ma’s teachings had given her, Xena would have been the peace-keeper of a united China.”

“Doesn’t seem like a bad job for a warrior to have. What happened?”

“It became apparent that although Xena sublimated her hatred and need for revenge, she hadn’t cleansed them from her spirit.”

“Ahhh,” Kael said, nodding wisely. “She had fooled Lao Ma.”

“And herself as well. I believe that she really wanted to be what Lao Ma saw in her. The knowledge would not have come to her if she were consciously evading Lao Ma. But when she saw the men who she felt had wronged her, my ancestor’s teachings were buried under a tide of hatred. Lao Ma tried to stop her, but in the end, she failed. Xena left and the houses of China remained separate entities.”

“Damn. That’s tough. What happened to them?”

“Xena went through many more years of revenge and hatred before turning her life around. She never forgot Lao Ma, nor what my ancestor taught her. She spent much of the rest of her life regretting the decisions she had made. But, she eventually became a great force for good and, with the mate to her soul, went on to bring hope back into the world in which she lived.”

“And Lao Ma?”

“She was eventually executed by her son, the emperor of China.”

“Holy shit! Her son?”

“Yes. He was a brutal tyrant. Given her philosophy, and the fact that he was her son, Lao Ma could not divert his course. She sent a message to Xena for help, but it came too late to save her own life.”

“Did Xena get the message?”

“Yes. She returned to China and assassinated the emperor.”

Kael chuckled. “Gotta hand it to her. The woman had balls.”

“Indeed. Though she did feel it was her duty. She helped to create Ming Tien, after all.”

“Wha-at?”

Lao Ma smiled sadly. “That is another story for another day. It is late. Perhaps sleep is in order.”

Standing and stretching her tired muscles, Kael nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. Thanks for the story, Lao Ma.”

“Thank you for listening, Kael. May you have a pleasant evening.”

“And you as well. Goodnight.”

8 June 1991. Lao Ma’s Home. Chengdu, China.

Kael stepped from the bathing chamber, her skin still warm and tingling slightly from the vigorous scrubbing she’d given herself.

It was Saturday, the Pleasure House’s one day of rest for the women who had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, pleasuring the men and women who had come to work off a hard week’s labors. The house was quiet in the golden minutes just after dawn. Kael padded silently through the massive structure on bare feet, the fine silk of her robes brushing softly against the floor to mark her passing.

She was heading toward Lao Ma’s private sitting room; the one place in the entire house where she felt most comfortable. As she moved, Kael thought back on the three weeks already spent in the remarkable woman’s gentle company.

The two women spent many evenings together after the business was closed down for the night. Lao Ma spoke candidly about her total devotion to the Tao and its principles. She spoke very little about herself, yet was warm, caring and compassionate, with a serenity about her that helped draw out a tiny sliver of peace lodged deep within Kael’s dark and shadowed soul.

The story of the original Lao Ma and her warrior-student was never spoken of again after that first night. Instead, the small Asian woman took up the mantel of mentor once again, gently opening Kael’s eyes to a new philosophy of the world.

Lao Ma taught Kael forms of meditation that the former soldier, well versed in such arts, had never considered. The techniques were welcomed, for they helped her ease her way out of the opium addiction she’d fallen back into. They also helped to impart some sense of stillness to the American’s always active mind, and for that, Kael was grateful.

Though the teachings of the Tao, with their emphasis on stillness and serenity, were as foreign to the American as anything could ever be, when seen through the eyes of a true devotee like Lao Ma, Kael couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit jealous over the woman’s seeming comfort with the world and her place in it.

For Kael, every day of life was a war, a struggle which pitted her unbending will against any foes who had the audacity to face her. She was born a soldier and likely would die one. She felt it her destiny, if such a thing could even be contemplated.

To accept, then, life on life’s terms was a concept she couldn’t begin to understand, except at the most basic of intellectual levels. How could it be possible to live life without expressing her will, her desire for things she wanted? It could simply not be done, not even with the bright promise of a world the Tao envisioned hanging over her head like a reward.

Still, Kael had, at some deep and unspoken level, come to treasure her evenings with the gentle woman who had taken her in, though she would probably never admit it to anyone but herself. If spending time with Lao Ma was like looking into the window of a world she could only dream of, then look she would, and be content with the view.

“I really am going soft,” she chuckled to herself as she rounded the last corner to her destination. She rounded the corner, and then stopped, her vision captured by one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen.

Lao Ma, her hair unbound and luxurious, gently brushing against the curvature of her buttocks, stood at one of the long, narrow windows in her sitting room. A shaft of early morning sunlight lanced through the window, gilding the Asian woman in tones of purest gold. Her simple white robe took on a luminescent quality, and the sun brought out the bluish highlights in her night-black hair.

To Kael, Lao Ma didn’t look prosaic as a mere angel, but rather a goddess, bathed in the hues of her majesty. The American suddenly found herself physically aching with the need to become a part of that light, that majesty. She felt pulled to the vision as a magnet to a core of iron. Her feet carried her across the room, her eyes never wavering from what was before them.

If utter goodness had a physical form, surely this was it.

Stopping less than an arm’s length away, Kael reached out a slightly termoring hand and brushed the tips of her fingers against the shining radiance of Lao Ma’s flowing hair. Her hand tingled as if she were touching some great, but controlled, power source.

Lao Ma, who had known Kael was present from the moment the other woman had stopped before the threshold, felt the gentle, almost reverent, touch to her hair and turned, closing the distance between them to almost nothing.

Kael, too, was standing in the light. Her eyes fairly glowed from an internal heat Lao Ma couldn’t even begin to contemplate. The Asian tilted her chin up slightly, taking in the sun-gilded features of the striking woman standing so close to her. She is truly beauty incarnate.

Quite of its own volition, Lao Ma’s arm went up, the backs of her fingers gently brushing away a strand of hair that had laid itself across Kael’s marble-cut cheekbone. She smiled at the unconscious gasp of air which came from the lips of the taller woman.

“You are so beautiful,” Kael whispered, her eyes drawn to the pink-bow lips of her teacher. Still drawn, she lowered her head slowly, her hand sinking into the thick fall of Lao Ma’s hair to cup the skull beneath.