Part One
From the Annals of Bastet

Soldiers with eyes gaunt from killing in battle, rolled the large warrior over. He was tall, hard muscled and well built. His skin was tanned compared to their paleness, and his hair a sandy blond, bloody now from a slight head wound.

"He's probably dead," said one. They took his sword and began to take the cloak that was wrapped half around him. As they pulled it out, he groaned. The men drew back startled, and left him, going on to the next body lying on the battlefield.

The warrior groaned again. At first the man thought he might be dreaming some horrible nightmare. He had no feeling in legs. His arms were so cold that they ached. He tried to take a deep breath, but inhaling the cold air made him cough. He rolled over onto his stomach, fearing he would wretch, then he looked up. All around him was white and red and grey; the white of snow streaked with blood, and the grey of a heavy winter sky. Soldiers sat or lay here and there. He could hear moaning. He got up onto his hands and knees slowly, letting the waves of nausea subside. Finally, the warrior got to his feet.

It was then that he realized that he had no idea where he was, or even who he was. He looked down at the blood on the ground and at his pants of woven leather, now soiled and ragged. He had on the fur cloak the others had tried to steal. It had come partly off now and he put it around his shoulders again, shivering.

"Hey you!" called out a stern voice. The warrior looked around to see an officer, by his attire, calling out to him. "You there. Get moving. Strip the dead of what we can use and be quick about it!"

The tall warrior just stood and stared, calling his superior's attention to him all the more. The officer began to approach. "What's your name, boy?" he shouted.

Still, the warrior stared, looking around with a confused frown.

"Tell him your name," whispered a man's voice behind him. The warrior turned around to see an equally tall soldier standing now behind him. "Tell him before he comes over and gives us trouble."

"I can't remember," said the warrior.

"Then make something up. We've got to be on the move before the demons return," replied his companion.

The officer had come over now to where the warrior stood. The other man stepped up beside him and looked at their superior. "His name is ... ah ... Atlas, Captain. You know, like the guy who held up the world," he answered.

The officer looked up at the dazed man. "And is his tongue cut out that he can't tell me himself?" he asked. "What's the matter, boy? You new here?"

"He's one of us. He fights like a demon from the Darkness," the other soldier replied.

"Atlas, eh? Hope he can live up to it," snapped the officer. "Very well, now you two strip the dead like I ordered. We're already behind and we've a long march before we can rest. They'll be back through here soon."

"They?" asked the warrior.

The Captain turned and slapped him across the face. "No more talk. Get working," he said. The man now called Atlas was surprised to see that the officer did not appear particularly angry. "You're on the battlefield now," the officer went on. "No time for questions. Get moving." The Captain turned and walked away.

The warrior looked over at his companion. The man was equal in height to him, perhaps a little taller, and he had a calm demeanor and a piercing stare with eyes of grey. He was slender and well built. His hair was blond, bleached by years out-of-doors, shorter on top and yet long in the back, falling over his shoulders. He had a beard trimmed close to his face, streaked with grey. He had on the heavy dress of winter, but his clothing was tattered, with rags tied here and there to keep the holes covered. The man began the unenviable task of looking at the dead men around them and finding what little he could as Atlas stared at him.

"And you are ...?" he asked of the man.

"Screwed like the rest of these poor soldiers," the other replied, picking up a knife from a corpse and wiping off the blood. He examined the blade and then put it away in his belt. "None of us remembers our names. Me, I chose the name Mace but they call me the Tiger - though I don't know why."

Atlas smiled. "Perhaps it's your stripes?" he said.

The Tiger looked up at him then down at the rags tied around his arms and legs. He laughed. "Perhaps it is. Come on, help me."

Atlas began to look over the bodies also. Memories of the heat of battle, the screaming, and the fury, flooded back into his mind and he drew back for a moment. He stood and watched as his companion took clothing, weapons, food and jewelry from the bodies. Mace rolled one man over, the wounded man groaned.

Mace squatted down beside him and lifted his tunic. Blood gushed out a slash from hip to hip. The belly wound was deep and wide, exposing the organs. The warrior grimaced and shook his head. He pulled out the knife that he had just put away and slit the man's throat from ear to ear. In a moment, the man was dead.

"What are you doing?" Atlas asked, horrified. He could feel the bile coming up in his throat. "Can't we take him somewhere to be tended?"

His companion stood up and came over. "It doesn't matter," he growled, standing close and staring angrily at the newcomer. "There is here and then there is dead which leads back to here! And there is fighting and staying one step ahead of being killed which doesn't matter because it just leads back here. Do you see?"

The man now called Atlas stared back, a dawning comprehension of the awful truth evident now in his blue eyes. "I'm dead, aren't I?" he whispered. He looked around and a wave of panic came over him. "I'm dead and in Tartarus. I don't know who I was to earn such a fate. I must have been one mean bastard."

"It doesn't matter," the Tiger replied, going back to his tasks. "Don't think about it and help me." He looked up and saw the troopers that were left were gathering now. "We'll be on the march soon. You and I haven't even gotten half the things we could. These things are all we'll have to get us through the mountains so hurry."

Atlas began to help and the two went over the bodies in their area quickly and went to rejoin their unit. Somehow, the newcomer knew where he belonged and it puzzled him that he followed along behind his companion without much thought. The army moved out. Atlas had thought it was as cold as it could get but soon it began to snow and he cursed the weaving in his britches and his open vest for the cold that they let in. He traded some moldy bread and a knife for an extra pair of pants and a torn shirt and put them on over his own clothes during the short rest that the army took before beginning the climb through the pass. He wrapped himself again in the cloak that he had acquired, though he couldn't remember where he had gotten it. Even then, he could feel the wind go through him like tiny knives and he cursed under his breath as he marched along.

As the two trudged along again in the snow with the other troopers, the tall warrior looked around at the craggy mountain pass and the grey sky. "If I'm dead," he whispered to his friend, "then how come I'm cold and hungry. I thought the dead couldn't feel anything."

The Tiger smiled sadly. "I thought that Tartarus was hot and I'd be running from demons that would poke me with forks and kick me in the ass for fun," he said, drawing close to his friend. He put his arm around his companion and the two shared their cloaks to keep warm. "But I have found that Tartarus, if that is where we are, is everything I hated about the world of the living. Cold, hunger, dirt, fear, wounds, itching," He scratched his neck and growled, looking at something in his hand, "and bugs." He put his arm back around his friend. "And I know now that if I get another chance at life, I am going to live it very differently."

"I thought you said that if we die we end up back here," Atlas said.

"I know," the Tiger replied. "It was just a thought."

Part Two

Ares lay alone in the huge bed. He stretched out and closed his eyes, taking in the thoughts, feelings, beliefs and fears of a thousand in a moment. He smiled to himself. Somewhere, in a circle of intellectuals, men debated the age old question: do gods dream? He shook is head and sighed, running his hands through his black hair, and adjusting the covers of black satin and fur.

"Of all the things that man could think about," he said to himself, "that is possibly the most unimportant. What is the nature of love, or bravery? Why is war so easy to make and peace so damn hard to maintain? What is it in men's nature that makes them wage war on each other?" The War God laughed to himself. "Did I say men? What was I thinking? Men, gods, Ancient Ones ...." He sighed again and turned over onto his stomach, looking out now over the mountains and forests in the distance. He had magically made the wall of his fortress disappear so that he could survey the lands below. "So peaceful and serene. No villages being plundered, no weapons of mass destruction being hauled from here to there. No armies on the move." He rolled over and got out of the bed. "I'd better get cracking." As he got up, a tiny feeling of unease passed through him. He stopped at the side of the bed then he dismissed the feeling, hoping that he would soon hear good news.

There was a knock at the door. "Come," the God of War snapped. He waved his hand and the wall appeared again. A young lieutenant came in.

"The war party from Macedonia has returned, my lord," he said, nodding his head once to show deference.

"With good news, I hope," the War God replied. With the snap of his fingers, he was dressed now in the silver studded black leather for which he was known. He took his famous sword in its scabbard and swung the belt around his waist, buckling it on.

"I don't think so by the looks of them," the young man answered.

Ares glowered at him. "What is it with Macedonia? Nothing ever goes right up there!"

The young man shrugged and stepped aside as his lord swept past him, striding down the hall.

Ares sat on the backless throne up on a dais before his officers. They watched as he flipped a small knife over from finger to finger on his right hand. Looking at him, one might think he was bored or discontented but he was listening intently as one of his captains read off the names of the men who had died in battle under Ares' banner. This was always the first order of business when the troops came to report back to their lord. The warriors thought that their Master did this as punishment or humiliation, but Ares knew the real reason as did some of his men who were true warriors. As each name was spoken, an image of the man flashed in Ares' mind. Good soldiers and bad, brave men and cowards, fathers, brothers, sons and lovers, each man had a story that was ended now. These men most likely would never be formally mourned. Some of the bodies could been taken back to their homes but most were buried on the battlefield or left if the army had to retreat. Someone had to acknowledge their passing and that was what the God of War was doing now.

As the officer came to the end of the list, his voice began to trail off. Ares looked up, annoyed. "Speak up, man. Don't mumble! Those last men deserve to have their names spoken in the Halls of the War God."

The man looked up at his Lord and swallowed. "And Hercules," he said, then he began to roll up the scroll.

The small knife dropped onto the floor and clattered down a few stairs as Ares stood up, shocked to hear the name. "Are you telling me that the man that Hera couldn't defeat, that Dahak himself couldn't best, that I have fought with for nigh on forty years has died in some nameless battle in the WILDS of MACEDONIA?" His voice carried through the halls. The air became chilled as his anger drew energy from it.

The War God started down the stairs, sweeping up the small knife and throwing it deftly into a stone column in the back of the room. He came over to the man that had read the scroll and took it from him.

"You're sure?" Ares asked, astounded.

"Yes, my lord," replied the officer, hoping that his voice would not break under the stress.

Ares stared at him then looked around at the men in the hall. Some dared to look him in the eyes but most shuffled their feet, looked away or coughed to break the tension.

"Did you bring back the body?" Ares asked, trying not to lose his temper.

Now the men looked around at each other confused and fearful. "Were we suppose to?"

Ares continued to stare, speechless with anger.

Part Three

Atlas took off his makeshift gloves and put his hands near the fire, rubbing them briskly while he did.

"This fire is pitiful," he complained as his friend unwrapped a piece of hard bread and old cheese.

His friend looked up from the prize of food and grinned. "Forget the fire. They don't burn well here anyway. Too damp. But I have bread, I think it's from one of the towns around here. Almost fresh. And cheese that's good, doesn't taste like it was just expelled from a camel's butt." He cut the two treasures in half and gave half to his companion.

Atlas took them and began eating without formality. He looked over his friend and shook his head. "That's all you talk about - food?" The image of a wiry blond warrior came into his mind. "Just like ..." He stopped chewing. "Just like, damn, what is his name?" He could see the short man's grin and the medallion he always wore, he could hear his laugh. The name was on the tip of his tongue but saying it escaped him. He grimaced as if he was in pain. "Damn it! I know it as well as my own."

The Tiger began to laugh despite the pity he felt for the newcomer. "As well as you know your own," Tiger repeated. Atlas looked over at him. He was angry now and the other's smiled vanished as he saw the wildness in his companion's eyes. "Now don't get your breechcloth all in a knot! It was just a joke. You know his name as well as your own and you don't know yours so you don't know his," Mace explained. He reached over and patted his friend on the shoulder. "You'll get use to it."

"Get USE to it! I don't want to get use to it!" Atlas exclaimed. He stood up, furious now. "What could I have done that was so bad as to deserve this! It's cold, I'm hungry. My head hurts, my legs are frozen."

Other soldiers around other fires were beginning to take notice now but they said nothing. It was common to see a man lose his temper in this place. Once his strength was spent on frustration, he usually settled down.

Mace looked up at his companion. "You get use to it," he repeated quietly. "I'm sorry."

Atlas stomped his feet to get feeling in them. He shook his head and looked up at the grey sky. "When is the dusk around here? The light never changes position," he asked, calming himself down.

"That's right. The light never changes," Mace replied.

Atlas glared at him, dawning a look of surprise. "You mean, this is it? Day and night, the same?"

The Tiger nodded slowly. "This is it." He reached over and picked up the bread and cheese that Atlas had let fall. "Now come over here and eat. We'll sleep for a bit, I'll wager, now that we are up in the mountains, less chance of ambush here." He handed the food to his friend as Atlas came and sat down.

"How do you mark the time?" Atlas asked, beginning his meal again. "And what about this village that is near here? Why don't we go there? Get warm, take a bath, get some wine or something."

Mace stirred the piteous fire with a stick. "I mark the time by the number of battles I've fought." He pulled out his sword and showed Atlas where he had scratched marks in the blade just below the hilt. "If I ever lose this thing, then I have to start over but then who cares, I keep starting over anyway." He shrugged.

"When you come back, do you remember being here before?"

Mace nodded but said nothing. Then he looked up at and pointed. There in the distance was the man whose throat he had cut just a while ago. The man, well now, lumbered over to one of the fires and sat down. Atlas watched him then looked back at his companion. "And the village, we never find it? We find things from the village, but never any people. I haven't seen a woman in..." Mace stared off for a while. "A long time." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "I don't think I was a very good lover when I was alive."

"What makes you think that?" Atlas asked, taking some snow in his mouth to wash down the bread he was chewing now.

"When I think of women, just flashes here and there, bits and pieces of memories, I see a woman with bruises on her looking up at me, afraid. I think I might have been a woman beater."

Atlas frowned. "I don't think so. I don't run with men who hit women and I run with you. That means that you don't do that," he replied. He began the cheese.

"Your logic is faulty," the Tiger replied, smiling a little at his companion's turn of mood.

"My brain is frozen," his friend said back.

They both laughed. "Come on, let's get some rest," Mace said. "If we sleep together, we can keep warm," he said, pulling his friend over toward him.

The two bundled up together as they lay down. Atlas could feel his companion's beard on his cheek. "We are just doing this to keep warm, aren't we?" he asked. He could feel the Tiger laughing silently.

"Come 'ere, darling," Mace said.

Part Four

The dark War God stood in the shadows of the Amazon's mess hall undetected by those he watched. He observed as the news spread through the elite sisterhood. Word of the death of Hercules had just, this dusk, reached the Amazon Nation. For many, the news was little more than interesting gossip but for the members of the Forum, a secret fellowship bound by vows to fight the domination of Hera among the Amazons, the news was like an unexpected blow to the belly. Women sat in shock looking at each other and trying to comprehend the information.

"I won't believe it until I see his lifeless body," Calee said angrily to the woman next to her.

Her companion just shook her head. "My voices say he's gone," Hygea replied. She frowned. "They keep saying 'gone' though, not dead. Hmm, I hope that is significant." She began to whisper to herself as she shook her head in disbelief.

Ares inhaled slowly as he heard Hygea's words, then he felt a hand on his hip. It slowly moved up to his shoulder. "Spying on the sisters?" Kendaa asked in a whisper, putting her lips close to his ear.

"You've heard?" he whispered back.

"I've heard, but I don't believe," she answered. "Why would Hercules be fighting under the banner of Ares?" She slid her hands around his waist. "Why does the God of War concern himself with such an unimportant place as Macedonia? There's nothing there, a few wild tribes and such, but nothing that would make you want to go there. You have said yourself that nothing ever goes right for you up there."

Ares turned around and put his hands on her hips. In an instant, they were now in her hut. She smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. "You never change, do you?" she asked. As the words came out, she already regretted saying them. She stiffened, putting her arms down again, seeing the look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, my love, I was just teasing you."

He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "I know."

He began to gather up things in her quarters: weapons, a knapsack, a water skin, extra clothing. "We have to get going," he said. He handed the sack to her along with her staff and began to put her armor on her. The straps of her breastplate gave him trouble. Frustrated, he threw it aside and the metal piece clanged against the wall and fell to the floor. He waved his hand and she was fully armored in an outfit of black and silver. His emblem was emblazoned on the front of her breastplate.

Kendaa laughed, snorting at the insult. "I will not march under your colors. Sleep with you, yes. Fight for you, NO!"

Ares had gone back to looking through her things to find what he needed, but he looked up and stared angrily at her. "I'll change the colors later, but I need you to wear that armor as I hope it might afford you some protection. Do you have the sword I gave you to fight the Bacci?" Ares went back to searching the small hut for what he could use.

"Of course I have the sword! Protection against what?" There was a knock at the door. "Come in," she said. Ares glared at her.

Calico came in, her head hung in sadness. As she looked up, Kendaa could see that she had been crying. The smaller woman looked at her friend and then saw Ares. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company." She turned to go.

"No, stay," Kendaa said, reaching out and patting Calico on the shoulder. She turned back to Ares. "Protection against what?"

Ares dropped what was in his hand, standing up. He was still facing away from the two Amazons when the room became still. Kendaa could feel the emotions of the god ripple through the air. She heard Calico take in a quick breath as the air chilled. For a moment, the half-Dryad feared that Ares would lash out at them both. With his back to her, Kendaa could not gauge the temper of her lover. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder but still he did not turn around. For a moment, all stood in an uneasy tableau.

Then the God of War turned around. For a moment, she thought he was angry, then she saw painful shame. "If Hercules is dead, it will be on my head," he said. "He went up there on my request and I'm afraid I sent him to his death or worse."

Both women stood dumbstruck.

"So he may not be dead?" Calico asked.

"And if he is not, what could be the 'worse'?" Kendaa added.

Ares sat down on the bed, running his hands through his hair. He looked around for a moment, frustrated. "I've been such a fool," he said. "The very mistake that I admonish my warriors for, I think I have committed myself. I have underestimated my enemy!"

"Hercules?" Calico asked.

Ares frowned. "No, he and I are beyond that now... or should I say, I am. Hercules was always an unwilling opponent."

Kendaa came and sat down beside him. Calico got a chair and sat down in front of the bed.

"Tell us how we can help," Kendaa said quietly.

Ares turned to her suddenly irritated. "I don't need your pity!" he snapped.

Kendaa's eyebrows went up in equal annoyance. "And you're not likely to get it," she responded.

"Tell us about Hercules," Calico added, anxious to get back to the subject. Ares and Kendaa both looked at her as if they had forgotten she was there. "Hercules?" she said again. "The one you sent to worse than death?" She motioned impatiently. Kendaa sighed and Ares coughed, looking embarrassed.

Ares began. "A soldier came to me about a month ago telling a tale of going to a place where war never ends. He said that he and a unit of his men were up in the lands beyond Macedonia, in high mountains. They disappeared into a snow storm and ended up in a place called the Battlefield. They didn't remember how they got there and while they were there they had no recollection of their earthly existence. By accident, this warrior escaped but he has no idea how."

Ares got up and began to pace. "I know that you two have heard of the tales of the Ancient Ones. How Calee and her sisters once fought along side Sekhmet before she became Bastet. When the warriors of the Dark Army were defeated, it was said that the One punished them by sending them to a place where they would spent the rest of eternity on the battlefield in a never-ending struggle. When the soldier came to me with this tale, I wondered if he and his men had somehow stumbled onto an entrance to this place. I had to find out if this was true."

"But what of it? And why send Hercules to see if some old wive's tale is true?" Calico replied. "Why would he go?"

"Because," the God of War replied, stopping from his pacing, he turned and looked at her, "if that entrance is close enough for mortal men to find, then it may be accessible to this realm. There are many in this realm, my old self included, who would give their souls to be able to lead the Army of Darkness. That's why I didn't go myself. If I left now before we knew anything for sure, it might get the other gods suspicious. They would send spies also. I couldn't take that chance. If that Army finds a way out, these lands will be in serious trouble. It would take all the forces of Greece, including my own, to defeat them. The cost in lives will be incalculable."

"Against an army that cannot die," Kendaa added, thinking about what she was hearing.

"I sent five squads up there with Hercules. I wanted him to investigate whether the rumors were true and if so, send scouts back to me so that I could come with the main force. It didn't occur to me that our losses would be so high, that Hercules himself would be lost. I'll never hear the end of this on Olympus," Ares said, shaking his head.

Calico's eyes filled with indignation. "That's what you're worried about? What this will do to your reputation?" she asked angrily.

Ares glared over at her. "Among other things ... like the fate of the world."

"So your men also found a way in? Is that how Hercules was lost?" the half-Dryad asked, pulling the conversation back to the subject.

"I guess so. My men told me that they were camping the foothills below the mountains. A blizzard came up suddenly and it began to snow heavily. And when it cleared, they found a few bodies in the snow but most of the men were gone. My officers believed that they were buried under the snows that had almost swept my troops away. Hercules was one of the men lost," the War God answered. He shook his head in disbelief. "When I didn't see Hercules in the throne room when the troops returned, I thought that he was probably still up there. I thought ..." He paused. "I don't know what I thought. It just didn't occur to me that Hercules could be among the casualties."

"I will ask again, can we help? I think you'll find an able and willing rescue party among the members of the Forum," Kendaa said. It was then that Calico was examining her sister further and had noticed the Arean outfit that she was wearing. She said nothing but began to piece together the outfit and the disarray in the hut. Her only goal now was to be part of any plan that Ares had. She owed as much to Hercules.

"I need to go up there myself," Ares said. "My godhood may provide protection for me and for those with me."

"May?" Calico asked, a little amazed that the proud god would admit to weakness.

"We are dealing with a power older than the present deities. I may be proud," the War God answered, looking at Calico with directness, "but I am not a fool, at least I will not be anymore of a fool than I've been so far."

Part Five

Fury and rage, screaming and moaning from human and creature alike, the battle stormed on. Mace kept Atlas in the corner of his eye, watching the warrior fight as if this was his personal war. The tall man swung a battle ax, lopping off the head of one of the enemy.

The enemy had appeared as they always did, out of nowhere they came out of the grey skies and swept down toward the men. They were tall gaunt creatures with no facial features. Their skin was like black leather and they had wings like bats. They had no weapons but their hands and feet had long claws like rapiers. Even though they had no mouth, they seemed to make a moaning sound when they fought. It filled the air and set one's teeth on edge with its high pitch. On two sides of the mountain pass were stone cliffs that rose up into the mountain's heights hemming in the battlers.

Atlas looked around to see Mace go down beneath the talons of two huge beasts that towered over him. As the man fell, time seemed to slow. Atlas could hear himself cry out and start toward him. The two beasts crouched down and then flapped their powerful wings, taking to the air. Atlas swung his battle ax and severed the legs of one of them, hearing its moaning increase.

The warrior made it over to his friend and bent down, only to see the life go out of Mace's grey eyes. Atlas opened his mouth to speak but then felt something heavy land on his back. A clawed hand came down across his face and slashed his neck from ear to ear. He felt the warm blood on his chest and saw it spatter on the snow. Then he fell forward onto his friend and the scene closed in around him.

"Get away from me, damn it!" Atlas heard someone snarl.

He couldn't move his arms or feet but he knew that he had to. He forced himself to roll over and began to cough. Slowly, the feeling was coming back to his limbs and he pulled himself to his hands and knees, feeling like he was going to be sick. Finally, he wretched once, but there was nothing in his stomach and he grimaced at the taste of bile in his mouth. He spit and took some snow into his mouth to clean the taste away.

Then he looked up. There, about a man's length away from him, Mace was sitting up. He was still glaring at the man who had tried to take his things. The other was hurrying off to the next body.

"What kind of an army is this if we strip each other. We're just going to come back again so why do that to your comrades?" Atlas asked, trying to stand. He slid an icy spot and landed on his knees. "Damn," he muttered, getting up again.

"No one cares," Mace replied, getting up as well. "Here, it's survival. That's it. You come back with no weapons and no clothes, too bad."

"This must be Tartarus," Atlas said. "Only those who would treat a comrade like that would end up here." He walked over to Mace and helped him up.

"We're here!" Mace exclaimed, taking the hand that his friend extended. He hauled himself to his feet wearily. "We do that."

"Well, we should stop," Atlas replied. "We need to stick together, all of us."

The Tiger and his friend began to walk toward the others who were now assembling after the fight. Atlas was watchful now instead of trudging along like an obedient dog. The officers were the only ones who spoke, they gave men the minimum of orders and then went back to their own business. The officers congregated to over at the bottom of the mountain's wall, talking quietly among themselves as the men who were left gathered up their things. Some of the bodies were coming back to life, but some remained dead.

"Are you sure everyone comes back again?" Atlas asked Mace. The other looked around.

"I don't know. I don't care. I know I come back."

Atlas began to walk toward the group of officers. Mace pulled him back. "What the blazes are you doing?"

"I need to go over and ask about this place," Atlas said, shrugging off his friend's hand. "I can't believe that I've just gone along. Something is wrong here. Everyone just follows along like sheep. We have to stop this."

"Stop what?" said a voice.

Both men turned around quickly to see an officer standing behind them. He was not as ragged as the rest. He looked well fed and strong, unlike the other officers that Atlas had seen. His eyes were so dark they were almost black and Atlas felt a chill go through him. He had a strong feeling that he knew this person from another place and time.

Atlas' eyes met the other's for a moment, then he looked down. "Excuse me, sir," he said carefully, "I was out of line." He turned and walked away, glancing at Mace with a look to follow him without a word. His friend fell in behind him.

When they were a distance from the officer who had gone back to his group, Mace stopped Atlas and crouched down. Atlas did the same and looked around to see that no one else was near.

"What the Hades was that?" Mace asked, looking at his friend.

Atlas looked away for a moment, then back at his friend. His demeanor had changed now. He was guarded. "I know that man," he said. "I know him from somewhere else. Something is not right here, none of this makes any sense."

Mace stared back in surprise. "Oh, do you think?" he asked sarcastically. "Something's not right? I say a lot is not right, I think that's why they call it Tartarus."

Atlas looked back at him. Mace could see that he had changed. Atlas was suspicious now. "Just leave me alone," he said.

Mace frowned in confusion and began to speak but Atlas had already gotten up and was walking away. Mace watched him leave, standing up himself. He sighed and watched as the man went off to a spot by himself and stood looking around. Their eyes met for a moment as Atlas scanned the scene and he looked away quickly. Mace went to a small group of soldiers and joined them without a word. Soon the small band began their march.

Part Six

"This is going beautifully," Hera said. The Queen of Heaven was alone. She stood above a pool of water. She was alone now in her throne room of a palace of crystal suspended magically within the clouds of the air. The images in the pool of the two soldiers disappeared and soon the water showed the image of Ares and two Amazons sitting alone in a hut. "We all have to make sacrifices for the good of the whole. I choose to sacrifice my own flesh and blood for the good of the domination of the world by its rightful rulers."

"I am pleased with you, my sister," said a voice in the breeze. It occupied the room although there were no windows to let in a wind.

Hera looked around. "You call me sister. I am flattered," she said. "I thought I would be considered more like a servant to you."

"We all must make adjustments to our circumstances," the breeze whispered. Hera smiled mirthlessly.

"This is certainly an elaborate plan, all for the destruction of a god," the Queen of Heaven said.

"I want more than destruction," the voice said. "I want his soul. I want the soul of Ares to cry out in pain as I cried out on the plains of Galgona." There was a pause as the image of the three in the hut disappeared. "You were restored to the world by the power of a boy but I will need the soul of a god and the blood of a hero in order to return. Besides ... it entertains me to spin these intricate plans. It gives me something to do in the dismal darkness of my prison. Be ready when I call upon you." The voice of Dahak faded away.

Tosh chuffed as Calico rubbed his ear. The Forum was assembling quickly. Five officers would each lead a squad of seven, forty Amazons in all. Everyone had gathered what things they needed and were coming to the practice field where the Forum would depart on the backs of the great dragons. Tedras had called them from their distant lairs and the breeze came up as the dragons descended from their flight onto the field.

Corum, the ancient black dragon, lit first on the field. From his back jumped a short, wiry warrior. He looked grim and pale, but tried to smile as Amazons crowded around him, greeting him.

"How are you holding up?" Bwell asked as she snaked her arm around Iolaus' waist.

"I'm okay. I just want to get on with the mission. I'm worried about him," the blond warrior replied. "I don't think he's dead, I'd know it if he was." He coughed and looked away for a moment. "And I'm a little sick to my stomach," he added with some chagrin. "Not used to riding like that."

Tedras approached, coming to hail her mentor Corum. Still in her human figure, she embraced Iolaus and squeezed his shoulder, empathetically. "We will find him. Meanwhile, when you ride, you have to keep your eyes ahead and not on the ground, silly boy! Of course you feel sick."

Iolaus laughed weakly. "Is that the trick! I'll remember that next flight." He went on to explain what he had heard of the rumors of Hercules' death. His face became solemn again as he talked about it. The Seer approached and Iolaus smiled despite his mood.

"I'm glad to see you," he said, embracing the plain woman. She smiled and returned the hug. "Can you tell me anything?"

"My voices say that he is 'gone.' They're very specific which leads me to believe like you that he is not dead but in some other plane. I think he is still alive in some alternate reality," Hygea explained as they all watched other dragons land.

"Alternate reality," Iolaus said. "I hate stuff like that. Just give me a slimy monster or a warlord any day." The Amazons around him nodded in agreement.

Corum was discussing the plans with Tedras who stood now beneath the great ebony beast, dwarfed by his size. Then, in an instant, her form began to shimmer and fade and the cobalt blue of her true form began to show. The image glowed and grew and finally a magnificent dragon stood by the black one. Her eyes were azure and the skin between the fingers of her batlike wings was pale blue as she spread her wings to stretch them.

Hygea smiled. "That never ceases to amaze me," she mused quietly. Iolaus nodded. Then both were roused from their awe by the approach of the God of War. He strode onto the field and took a central place where he could be heard. The Forum members all quieted and gathered from where they had stood to hear their orders, the martial life as natural to the sister soldiers as leading was to the dark warrior in their midst. Iolaus looked at the tall figure and laughed to himself to think of the rumors that Hercules had actually gone on a mission at Ares' request. Then he realized that he was now taking his place among those who were following Ares into battle.

He looked up briefly. "Hercules, wherever you are," he whispered. "I won't tell, if you won't tell."

"This detachment will consist of five units plus myself," Ares explained as he walked among the warrior women. "I will call off the names of the officers and those of you who fight well under their command can sort yourselves out. No more than eight to a unit counting the officer. I assume you all have brought the swords originally given to you to fight the Bacci?" Heads nodded. "Good. I have no idea if they will be of any help but I say we take every extra precaution we can." He continued to pace. "I came here to get one warrior to take with my army but Kendaa has convinced me that you all would be a more likely rescue party for Hercules." He looked around.

"For Hercules!" Calee called out.

"For Hercules! Let us be strong in a world that is weak!" Kendaa replied, leading her sisters in a cheer.

"Now," Ares continued when the yelling had died down, "here are the officers I have chosen. Kendaa will lead the black squadron." He pointed over to Corum to indicate their mount.

"Klio will lead the blue." He pointed to Tedras. Klio was already standing next to the huge dragon, waiting.

"Calico will lead the red squadron." He pointed to a large green dragon with eyes like rubies. The young male dragon named Caladon, called out, billowing fire out of his mouth as it saw Calico approach with Tosh following behind.

"Calee will lead the green squadron." Ares pointed to another large dragon whose color had once been green but now was a dark opalescence, almost black. He was the eldest of the dragons, an ancient beast called K'o.

"And Chrysim will lead the whites." He pointed to a white dragon, Escep, just newly found in a cave in the cold regions of the far north. The dragon was young and had been frozen centuries ago after falling out of the sky during a battle. She was a beautiful sleek creature whose scales shined with a pearly gleam. The scales of the white dragons were known to heal any wound.

Ares went to Corum and stood next to the immense creature. He watched as the Forum members sorted themselves into battle groups.

Lady Pegasus chose to go with Chrysim on the white dragon. Her healing arts and ability to fly would be useful to her unit. Iolaus had joined Chrysim also and stood next to the beautiful white beast. He stroked her scales, amazed at their color. Soon he had been joined by Bwell, Chantal and others and began to mount.

Lessa went over to Calee who made her her lieutenant for the Greens. BonaDea joined them with Hebea and Lyrical. Others came and the Green unit began to mount.

Lillian, known as the Wolf, went to join Klio. The two shared the wolf spirit as their guide. Shoshana had ambled over to the two. The Wolf greeted her and the three watched as others came over to join the Blues. Whisper arrived shortly and stood with Shoshana. The two talked quietly as Amphalia and Ceallach joined them. Soon the unit was complete.

Cassopeia went to Calico, petting Tosh who returned her affection by rubbing up against her, almost knocking the petite woman down. Calico began to climb the leg of her mount, helping the Siren up as well. Schizyx came running up, having been late on the field. Calico laughed at her friend's eternal race with time and gave her a hand onto the dragon's back. Wyke and Becca had just found their way around the enormous creature and were coming up the other leg. N'bal helped Antares up and the group all cheered as the Seer showed up. Hygea had a basket with her. Calico laughed as Bastet's feline head popped out.

"I thought I was going to miss the adventure," said the sorceress-turned-alley cat. "Hercules would never speak to me again if I didn't lend a hand."

Iolaus shouted over from his place now on the neck of the white dragon. "Hey, furball!"

"Oh, gods in heaven, he's coming?" Bastet asked, sneering at the wiry warrior. "I hope Lyrical has brought enough to eat or it'll be whine, whine, whine." She put her head back in the basket. Calico put the basket's handle over one of the dragon's neck spines, securing it down.

Laurissa joined Kendaa, who stood beside their dark leader waiting for the troopers to mount as they chose their units. Ares had, sometime ago, removed by magic his insignia on her breastplate. She had seen the regret in his eyes when he watched the emblem vanish but she stood firm on her vow. Therese and Stripe approached and hailed the two. Ares nodded in agreement at having them in his Chosen's troop. Fayee came up from behind the dragon and nodded to her friends. Kendaa put her arm around her and Baeori, who was close behind her.

"With an army like this, how can we fail?" Kendaa said. Now Azhure and Aeronwy had arrived. As Aeronwy nodded her greetings, Kendaa saw the War God look over and smile slightly at her. Kendaa felt no threat. She knew that the Celt had favored position in the heart of the God of War. It was Ares who sometimes was amazed at the lack of jealousy on the part of the Amazon sisters for each other's relations with men. He was not so forgiving of intrusions into what he considered to be his. Kendaa smiled to herself as she thought this. Then she motioned her squadron to mount and get ready.

As the last of the Forum members joined their units, Ares watched as all the troopers mounted the dragons. He had walked out into the midst of the chaos to oversee the preparations. Then he went back to the black dragon and climbed up Corum's leg, taking his place at the front, then the dragon called out, spewing fire into the air, now chilly, as the sun's last rays set in the west. The grass of the field waved wildly as the dragons beat their wings and lifted into the air. They gained altitude forming a line behind the black dragon and flying in ever widening circles as they ascended. It was dark by the time that they all headed north toward the mountains beyond Macedonia.

Part Seven

[Gods on Olympus, help me, I am having this dream again! I cannot leave or turn away, I know I can't stop what's going to happen. I am entering the house. It's still, she and the children are asleep. As I open the front door, a cloud passes over the full moon and there's a strange smell in the air. I walk into the front room and find a toy on the floor. I pick it up, laughing quietly to myself about the children's disregard for order. I think about their innocence and walk over to the door of their room, turning back the heavy tapestry and looking in at them. I turn and go on to the room of my beloved. As I turn back the tapestry of that door, there's a flash of light. I can smell flesh burning and ...]

Atlas sat straight up, gasping in pain. He held his chest and looked around, trying to block out the horrible images. Though he knew that they were his memories, he could not remember what they meant. For a moment, he sat dazed, thinking that perhaps the scene before him now was the dream but the cold cut through him and made him shiver. He looked at the grey sky and snowy ground. Men wandered around in the small camp. Listless campfires burned here and there. He looked over at the fire that he had made a while ago, wondering what world was worse, the world of his waking self or the world of dreams. He looked over across the fire and found Mace sitting close to the warmth, eating a piece of dried meat and humming to himself.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," Atlas grumbled.

"I know," his companion replied, with a mouth full. "But I don't always do what others tell me to." He laughed. "Probably how I died. Disobeyed an officer's order and ...." He put his finger beneath his right ear and dragged it across his throat to the other ear. "Gullck... slit my throat for insubordination."

Atlas smiled despite his anger, then frowned again. "I don't trust you."

Mace laughed, finishing off his portion. "Well, I don't trust anyone!" he replied. "But what does it matter?"

"Don't you care?" Atlas answered back angrily. "Everybody just goes along! Don't you ask yourself , 'what if I don't obey?'"

Mace was serious now. "What if I don't?" he asked. "The demons will come whether I obey or not. I find what little support there is in this freakish world in the company of strangers. Whether I go out there alone and fight them or whether I stay here, I still fight them. They're all there is except us. We die and then some return ..."

"And some don't?" Atlas finished.

"And some don't," the Tiger answered. "Perhaps they're the lucky ones."

"Which ones don't?"

"Well, as far as I can tell, the wounds can be healed somehow but it's hard to piece a man back together when his head's over there and his legs are over there and so forth," Mace explained. "I think that whatever contrary and completely depraved deity runs this place, reassembling us is beyond even it's power."

Atlas thought for a moment, looking into the fire. Mace frowned to see his friend's look and reached across the fire, jabbed him in the shoulder with one hand. Atlas looked up at him again.

"What?" he snapped.

"Don't even think about it!" Mace replied.

"Think about what?"

"Think about getting yourself all chopped up so that you can get out of here!"

"Don't you? Don't you want to get out?" Atlas asked, taking the piece of cheese that the Tiger had handed him.

Mace began to eat the piece he had left. "Of course I do. I want it more than anything." He stared into the fire's light. "I guess I'm just not a gambler."

The two men ate their food, staring into the firelight as Mace continued quietly. "I don't know anything of the world that I came from, but it couldn't have been this bad. I fear that if I leave this one, I may go to a world that is worse. I can't imagine what that would be but then I could never have imagined this." He finished his meager meal and sat now, pensively. He looked at the back of his hands and then at the nails. "There's a place somewhere that's better. I know that and it gives me hope. I don't know if I'll ever go there. I may have ruined my chances by something I did." He sat for a moment. "I wish that I could remember, even if just to remember what I did that was so bad. I think that that would help make this terrible place more meaningful. How could a god send us here to punish us and not let us remember why we are being punished? I think that's not fair." He sat and stared off and Atlas saw his eyes tear up. "It's just not fair."

Atlas began to rearrange his cloak to bed down for the night. "You're right, it's not fair. But somehow that doesn't surprise me." He motioned to Mace. "Come here, darling. Let's get some sleep."

A circle of officers sat by their fire. This bleak world did not seem to hang as heavy on them. The officer that had confronted Atlas earlier sat with them. Close to him sat two others. The three had an air of sinister command about them. No one else spoke nor hardly moved. Everyone seemed to be waiting for a cue from one of these three.

Finally, one spoke. His voice was like a whispering breeze but all present could hear him chillingly well.

"This plan is proceeding better than I had hoped," he said. "Hera's brat is on his way." He snorted derisively. "He's brought his dryad whore and her sisters. Soon the best of the Amazons will join us." The other two said nothing but the officers around them laughed weakly.

"Do not underestimate Ares or the Amazons," said one of the other two after a while. "He is not the proud and petulant boy that once played at war with mortals as his toys." He looked at the warriors around him. "Our greatest fault is that we do not acknowledge that our enemies have strengths. Pride, that's our problem. It was also Ares' weakness before but he has learned his lesson. He has turned his face toward the light."

"The light!" the third leader exclaimed. He spit with disgust. His eyes were like a serpent's. "May we triumph once and for all time against this intrusion into the purity of the darkness."

The other two agreed but no one else said anything.

Set looked around at his brothers Dahak and Moloch, and then at the silent men with them. Then he peered over into the distance where Hercules lay with his companion, getting what little sleep they could. Set smiled to think of the name he had been given. "Atlas," Set said aloud. "Soon, boy, you will have the world on your shoulders." He looked back at the fire's light, laughing softly.

Part Eight

The plains of Macedonia spread out below them as the dragons flew over the land. Now the Ares and his cohorts felt the frigid winds as the mountains to the north loomed up in the distance.

Ares turned to Kendaa sitting close to him on the dragon's back. "We're almost there," he said, shouting above the wind's moan. "The warrior told me where he had gone. He said the landmarks were clear though I sent him back with Hercules to be sure. He was one of the lost." He looked back at the mountains that were coming up quickly. The dragons started their descent. Corum turned to his riders. "There is a strong feeling of darkness in this place. We will be swept in if we go any closer. We will let you off here. You'll have to march from here."

Ares looked at the distance that needed covering. "I was hoping to get closer but..."

"Don't you dare go any closer," Kendaa said to the massive beast. "I feel it too. I don't want you and your kin taken in by this." Ares glanced at her, annoyed, but she only glared back.

"This place is evil," Corum agreed. He beat his wings more rapidly as he began to land. The others were close behind him. The dragons formed a circle as they landed and once Klio and her squadron were off of Tedras' back, she began to change into her human form. As a human, she knew she would be less susceptible to the influence of the place. She shivered as she put the cloak that Shoshana handed her around her shoulders.

The land was harsh. No trees grew anywhere. The grass was a bitter, brownish foliage that grew in clumps here and there. The plains were flat as far as the eye could see in any direction save the north. There was no shelter from the wind.

"It's cold but the cold is like none I've ever felt. It makes you want to run and hide," Tedras said. She, Shoshana and Whisper huddled together at the side of one of the other dragons. Even the leather britches and coats of fur that the Amazons wore did not keep out the wind. The Wolf came over and huddled with her squadron. Klio had gone to talk to her father but was on her way back. She shivered in the cold, all the more bothered because Ares was impervious to it.

Iolaus was going from squad to squad now, checking on the Amazons. Chantal had given him a cloak to wear.

Suddenly, in unison, the dragons started to bellow in pain. The warriors jumped at the sound of the dragons' wailing. The beasts began to beat their wings to take off, scattering the soldiers. Everyone looked around in alarm, trying to figure out what was happening.

In the midst of this chaos, Ares was trying to still his mind to sense the nature of the threat. His hair whipped over his face as the dragons' winging raised a gust. Then he felt what the dragons were feeling and the sensation brought him down onto one knee in agony.

Kendaa screamed to be heard over the sound of the wind and the dragon's cries. She pointed to the south. A storm, like a wall of white, was coming toward them, pushing them toward the mountains.

"Get down," Iolaus cried out. The wind was already howling around them. He motioned to the last dragon to take to the air. "Everyone come as close as you can and take each others' hands."

Amazons scrambled to get all the sisters accounted for. The white of the blizzard had already begun to envelop the company. Kendaa dropped to her knees, calling up the power of the earth through her dryad spirit.

"Mother Earth," she prayed, "give us shelter from the storm. Help my sisters."

Then the blizzard had obliterated any vision. The world was a painful, screaming, white nightmare where the Amazons could only hug the ground and wait, hoping not to be swept away by a gust or buried alive by the cold. Then the warriors felt something beneath them. The snow was giving way to the hard wood of roots. Women saw the shadow of something but could not make out what loomed over and around them but they were safer now, tucked in the folds that had surfaced.

The company of the Amazons waited. In a while, the storm cleared. As the white of the snow and the howl of the wind died down, the Amazons realized that they had been sheltered in the roots of a huge tree that had grown magically out of the earth. Its roots extended along the ground, making a spider web pattern of sheltering nooks and crevices as it radiated from the central bough. The tree stretched skyward, its branches now torn from the force of the wind.

Iolaus and the Amazons brushed away the snow and got up. They moved out from the sheltering roots and away from the tree, staring up in awe at Mother Earth's gift to them. As if the tree understood that they were clear now, its seemed to sag and the branches crashed to the ground under the weight of the snow. Kendaa felt its brave sacrifice. She looked around at her sisters and cried quietly.

Iolaus came up beside her. He squeezed her shoulder and sighed. "No time to mourn," he said. "Ares is gone."

The half-dryad gasped, then heard Calico yell. The small Amazon had the basket that the sorceress had ridden in. It was empty too. Women started searching through the snow in the roots of the trees. The large branches had to be cleared away. The search yielded nothing. Finally Calico sat down on a large root.

"It's useless," she said to the others. She looked around. "She could be anywhere under the snow or swept away to wherever Ares was taken."

"Or went," Klio added. "He could have willed himself into the storm to find Hercules."

"Then why bring us all this way?" Hebea said, with an edge of frustration in her voice.

Klio turned to her, glaring. "If my father felt that it was a good idea to go on by himself then we should abide by it. He's had a bit of experience in battle, you know." Hebea felt her temper rising also. She stepped up to face Klio but Iolaus stepped between them.

"Please, all of you stop! This is pointless. We are all cold and tired from the trip. Let's make camp and discuss our next move," he said. The two women glared at him, a male interfering in the business of Amazons. The tension continued to build.

"And who put you in charge?" Calee snapped coming up to the three.

Chantal approached her. "Leave him alone. He's one of the Forum."

"And who let men come into our group, anyway?" shouted Whisper. This was so uncharacteristic of her usual calm manner that had given her her name.

Iolaus turned around, frowning. "Stop, please! Why are you doing this? This isn't like any of us." He paused, taking a deep breath and looking around at the angry faces of the women. "Where have I felt this way before?" he asked, thinking back.

Suddenly, Calee's anger turned to confusion. She looked around as other of the Amazons thought about his words. The sister soldiers began to talk amongst themselves.

Hebea shrugged. "All I feel is irritated and cold, like I want to hurt someone." Then she frowned. "And I'm not quite sure why."

"I've felt this way before too," Calico said as she came up to the others. Now the Forum had drawn close, standing close to get warm.

Kendaa took a deep breath. "Oh, God. It comes to me now. This is the way we felt when we went into Dahak's world to find the stone," she said. "I realize it now." She reminded them of the story of the stone and of the trip that she, Calee, Hygea, and Calico went on with Hercules and Xena into the land of Dahak's dark powers. The Forum members began to recall the story and the finding of the Siren in that dark world. "We have to be very careful, sisters. When this happened to us, we easily turned on each other."

Calee turned to Cassopeia. "But your voice got up through it."

"And it will again," Cassopiea replied, smiling. "Hygea's finding me changed the course of my life, saved it really. All my strength will go to keeping you all safe. But now, I say we choose a leader and then make camp as Iolaus advised." The others nodded now, the sting of their anger gone at the sound of her voice.

"I choose Kendaa," Hebea said, "with Klio and Lessa as lieutenants. They are the closest to Ares and will know how he thinks."

"And I suggest that Iolaus be lead scout," Kendaa added. "He's the best tracker among us."

Everyone nodded and the Amazons got down to the business of making camp. The Siren hummed a marching song as they worked.