Part One
From the Annals of Bastet

The great fortress of the God of War was quiet. The master was in his map room, which lay on the east side of the great circular room where he received his warriors. Unlike the throne room, this space could almost be called cozy, if that word ever fit anything associated with Ares. It was furnished with two comfortable chairs in front of a blazing fire in the fireplace. A deep red carpet from Persia was spread in the middle of the room and on it stood the table where he laid out his maps. When not displayed, the maps were each rolled up and placed in a large oak scroll shelf specially designed for that purpose. A small table stood against one wall where food and drink were laid out for Ares and any guests whom he invited in – but few people were allowed in this room.

The War God stood at the table where a map of the north part of Greece was spread out. He frowned, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at the knife driven into the table and sticking up out of the map at the spot where on the map a city called Alonia had once been. Now, the spot had been obliterated by the knife just as the city had also been destroyed by the sword. Ares drew in a deep breath, thinking of the unnecessary destruction of thousands of people by a ruthless army. Years ago, the thought would have excited him. The bloodshed and killing would have fired his blood. He reflected idly how much he had changed under the tutelage of the Ancient One. Now, the idea only angered him.

There was a knock at the door. Ares waited for a moment before he spoke, knowing who it was.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened and a young officer walked in, circling around so that the table was between them. Ares did not look up but continued to stare at the map.

"Greetings, my lord," the man said.

"Celaus," Ares said quietly, "I am looking at a spot on the map where the city of Alonia used to be."

"Yes, my lord."

"Do you know what I am going to ask?" the War God whispered.

"You are going to ask me why the campaign to save the city went so badly," the man said, taking a deep sigh afterward. The man feared he might be soiling himself.

"And what would you say to that?"

"That the responsibility for the defeat is entirely mine, my lord." The officer knew that these were his last moments on earth.

"And do you know what I would say to that?"

"You would say, my lord, that that is irrelevant, that I have been foolish and complacent. I thought that I could defeat this army easily and I misjudged my enemy. I ... I ... " His voice trailed off.

"And what would you say to that?"

The man sighed. "Nothing, my lord," he replied solemnly. "There is nothing to say."

Ares looked up at the terrified man. Suddenly he remembered again how young the officer was. He was around twenty-five, an ambitious young warrior who had come up through the ranks quickly. The War God walked over to the man and to his credit; he did not shrink away. Ares looked him in the eyes.

"Your mistake has cost thousands of Greek lives. Who sent you up to Alonia?" Ares asked.

"Dorinides, general for the Corinthian Contingent," the young man replied.

The name conjured up an image in the mind of the War God. Ares could feel his jaw tighten with anger. He had heard the name before in connection with military disasters. Little annoyed him more than poor leadership. It irked him that noblemen felt that they were good commanders by virtue of their expensive armor.

"Well, Celaus, it is now your job to figure out how you will take back that city and restore our stronghold in that province. You and your general have much to learn about making war."

"Yes, sire," the man answered. He had a confused frown on his face.

"Do you have any questions?" Ares asked, seeing the puzzled look on the young man's face.

"I ... I thought that you would kill me, my lord, for my mistake," the man answered.

"And that would be my mistake," the War God replied. Ares eyes became like flints of steel as he frowned back at the young man. "But in our business, when we make a mistake, many die. See that you do not make the mistake of underestimating your enemy again."

"Yes, my lord," the officer replied. He bowed and left the room; his shoulders now squared with determination.

"And tell Dorinides that I will be watching the rest of this campaign closely," Ares added as the door closed.

The War God returned to the map table. He stood quietly then took the knife from the map and passed his hand over the area, mending the hole in the table's wood beneath. He put the knife in his belt and went on thinking about the campaign.

"Y-e-e-e-e-e!" Leonides screamed as he raced into the room. He leapt onto the bed and threw his arms around his father's neck as Ares sat up, still half asleep. The nurse came in, close on the boy's heels trying to corral the rambunctious child.

"I'm so sorry, my lord," she said as she approached the bed.

The god laughed and picked the young boy up, tossing him into the air. "It's all right. You may leave us," Ares said, nodding to the nurse. He turned his attention back to the boy who was now suspended in mid air floating like a cloud over him. The nurse bowed and laughed softly as she left. Leonides was giggling with delight at the experience.

Ares lay back down and patted his Chosen on the hip. The lump in the bed beside him moved with a groan and a shock of blond hair emerged from under the covers as Kendaa yawned and looked up to see her boy flying above them.

"Look at me, mom. I'm flying!"

Ares was still laughing as he twirled the boy in flight and had him soar around the room. "Yes, Mommy, look," he added.

"Perhaps Daddy should tell Leonides that he should not attempt this unsupervised, like off the parapets of the fortress," she said, turning over and nuzzling the War God.

"Perhaps Mommy worries too much," Ares replied. He let the boy down and Leonides settled on the bed beside him. The boy jumped onto his chest, causing him to groan. "Hey, too hard!" he said. "You'll kill me."

Suddenly Leonides was serious. "But you're a god, Daddy."

Both adults laughed. "That's true," Ares replied. "Daddy is a god ... most of the time."

Kendaa giggled at the comment.

"Will you make me a brother to play with?" Leonides asked, then he frowned. "How do you do that, make babies?"

Both adults looked at the child and then at each other. Kendaa raised a questioning eyebrow. "You get to answer that one, Daddy." She turned over to sleep a little longer.

Ares had no sooner opened his mouth to reply when the boy was off on another line of questioning. Kendaa laughed quietly. She could feel her lover's relief at avoiding the difficulties of explaining the nature of things to his child.

"I'm hungry," Leonides finished. "May I go get some breakfast?"

Ares smiled. "You may - and tell Tullu that Kendaa and I will be down in an hour for our breakfast."

"Yes, sir!" The boy leapt off the bed and ran at full speed toward the door. He flung it open and shut it behind him with a bang.

Ares smiled again. "He's all boy," he said quietly.

"He's all you," Kendaa added. "I can imagine you at that age."

Ares put his arms behind his head, trying to recall what he had been like at that age. He must have been innocent like Leonides at some time early in his life. At his son's present age the rite of passage that his parents had put him through would not have occurred, but he could not remember ever being that free.

Kendaa felt his tenseness. She turned back toward him, sliding her hand over his chest. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, turning toward her.

"For saying that, reminding you of your childhood."

He looked off and then back at her. "It's all right. Through Leonides and my other children, I have learned some of that joy; but sometimes, I wish I had been born a noble's son in," he thought about all the places in the world. "the North, maybe the Celts, they're good to their children. Or in the East."

"How about here in Greece, Athens, or Sparta, perhaps?" Kendaa replied, laughing.

"Sparta! No, thank you," Ares answered, laughing himself. "They're too -" He paused to find the right word. "- Spartan! No, some foreign land, or Athens. Athens or Corinth would be all right."

"So being an immortal god isn't all it's thought to be?" she asked.

"It has its moments. I can make a boy fly," he replied.

Kendaa pulled him over to her. "But can you make a baby brother?" she asked, running her hand through his dark hair.

The War God kissed her right ear, then ran his lips down her cheek to her mouth. "Well, let's just see, Amazon," he whispered. He lifted her onto him as he rolled onto his back.

Ares watched his Chosen walk away down the forest path and back to her life as an Amazon in the Nation. Their short respite was over as he resumed his place, and she, hers. The fortress was far away now and the villages of the Amazons lay just outside the forest in the plains beyond. He had transported both of them into the seclusion of the green world for one last kiss before they parted. Now she strode off to her life and he went back to his.

Ares stood in the clearing, bathed in the light of the morning, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her hips swing as she left his view. He smiled to himself. The pleasures of men far exceeded those of the immortals. Little things which he would have dismissed before gave reality its color and depth in the mortal world. He loved to watch her walk. He reveled in the sound of his son's laughter. He took pleasure in watching his daughter, Klio, as she performed her duties as a warrior. She had learned her trade well, but tempered fury with mercy despite Ares' training. He loved to watch Lessa at her forge. She was a fine metal smith and had a touch with steel that produced such exquisite weapons. All these things were the pleasures of mortals, little and great, that made life bearable, even sweet.

Now Kendaa had disappeared from sight. Ares waited for a moment to take in the beauty of the forest, smiling at the thought that he even cared, then he disappeared in a gleam of light. When next he appeared, it was in a secluded spot in another forest. No one had seen him appear. He was dressed differently now and the walls of the city of Alonia stood in the distance beyond the forest edge. He headed off toward the camp, having woven a spell around him that would make him unrecognizable to any who knew the God of War.

Part Two

Mace looked up from the fire to see a man walking toward the camps of the Greeks. His soldier's senses took in a seasoned warrior. The man was tall, dressed in the colors of tan and red, the colors of the Corinthian contingent. He had black hair cut short, a breastplate of brown leather studded with brass fittings over a tunic of red, pants under the tunic to guard against the cold, and boots of brown. He carried a shield, a belt with sword in scabbard, and a javelin. Mace narrowed his eyes to take in the newcomer, thinking that he knew this soldier.

The man walked by and Mace could not ignore the feeling. He stood up as the man walked past and called out to him.

The warrior turned and looked at him, at first the two squared off. Then the man flashed a grin as he recognized Mace and Mace stepped back a moment as Ares revealed himself. The War God made a sign to him not to betray who he was and Mace nodded his acknowledgment.

Ares walked over to his friend's campfire and dropped his weapons and shield, shaking Mace's hand.

The other laughed. "I suspected things were bad but I didn't know that they were this bad. We need you to come straighten it out?"

The War God laughed back and they both crouched down before the fire, warming their hands in the cold morning, and looking around to make sure they were not being overheard. "And exactly how bad is it?" Ares asked.

Mace looked into the fire. "I can't say it's the worst campaign I've been in but in the week that I have been here under Celaus' command, we've lost a fourth of our men. I have no idea why. He's young but he's a good commander, maybe a little too cocky but his tactics are sound. I think there's more to this enemy than muscle and steel. They make no sounds, their eyes are vacant as if they're moving in a trance but they fight like demons."

"Sorcery?" Ares asked.

Mace nodded. He looked around. "And I don't mind saying it makes me nervous as Hell," he said quietly. "When they can take the son of Zeus so easily, there's definitely something else going on."

Ares looked at him in surprise. "What? Hercules is here?"

"Well, he was," Mace replied. "He's there now." He motioned to the besieged city in the distance.

Ares stared at him, concerned. "I didn't know that he had been involved in this."

"Iphicles asked that he come up and help. You know Hercules, oppressed peoples or kittens caught in trees, he's on it," Mace replied. Ares nodded, snorting at the joke. "He had to leave Iolaus with Xena."

"That fight with the Warlord Helio outside Thebes? I had my eye on that. I thought he was still there."

"Would have been. He's from Thebes. Outlaws so close to the place of his birth made him more than a little annoyed. Iolaus has a good group behind him. And Xena." Mace paused. "That woman is a handful."

Ares grinned. "Tell me about it."

"Where I came from, women were meek and soft. Their strength was in their ability to manipulate men, not beat them in a fight. These strong women are taking a while to get used to," Mace explained.

Ares laughed under his breath. "They will rule some day. Don't ever tell anyone I said that or I'll deny it; but they birth us, and if they ruled there would be more talking and less fighting. With us in charge, it's the other way around."

"And the God of War would be out of a job," Mace answered.

Ares grinned. "I'd be at home, chained to my bedposts and servicing my Chosen."

"Poor thing," his friend said.

"Tell me more about Hercules' capture," Ares said, getting back to the problem at hand.

"It happened quickly," Mace answered. "He and I were fighting side by side. The Contingent was closing in on the walls of the city, pushing back the enemy. I thought we would get through the gates. They began to retreat, we advanced, and suddenly there were men around Hercules. He went down and then a massive advance occurred and he disappeared behind the enemy's front line. It was planned. It was way too well done to be an accident."

Ares sighed, thinking. "Celaus failed to tell me that Hercules had joined the campaign."

"We arrived the day he left to report to you," Mace answered. The War God nodded. It seemed that Celaus would not have left out that piece of information, but it was odd that the young man did not bring up the fact that there was more here than could be accounted for by military tactics. Perhaps he did not know. He was still deep in thought when he saw Mace stand up suddenly. He went on looking into the fire when his friend kicked him in the boot. He looked up frowning, then saw that the general had arrived and was walking the camp.

Ares stood up also, squaring his shoulders. Dorinides glanced at him and paused.

"Where's your sword, boy?" he barked at Ares.

Ares squatted down and pulled out the belt and sword from under his shield. He put it on and nodded to the commander.

"We must all be prepared to fight," Dorinides said to him. "Besides," he went on to the men around him, "the God of War himself watches this campaign. He has met with Celaus and praised us for our bravery so far. With his blessings, we will surely be victorious." He proceeded on with the young commander on his heels. Celaus appeared uneasy after hearing his leader's statement.

"'Our bravery'?" Mace whispered, spitting on the ground. "That man hasn't set foot on a battlefield that I know of or anyone that I talk to knows of." He looked over at his friend. "Promise me, oh great one, that you will have a talk with him about that matter."

Ares looked over at the general striding among his troops. "Count on it," he whispered back.

Hercules stood stiffly on the walkway of the city walls looking over the battlefield beyond. He could see the Greek encampment in the distance. Surrounding him were the guards, ten strong, ordered to keep him captive. His hands were bound behind him with steel manacles forged in hell fires and strong enough to hold even him. They were attached to a metal belt that held his arms against the small of his back. His legs were shackled too with chains just long enough for him to take a moderate stride, but yet short enough to make using his feet to defend himself impossible.

"Take a good look, Son of Zeus," said the sergeant. "This will be the last time you'll see daylight." The guard sounded neither vindictive nor sympathetic. A chill ran down the spine of the Greek hero. These soldiers were not mortal. Their eyes were vacant, their strength came from dark powers, and they did not appear to be hindered by the annoyance of a soul. There were no expressions on their faces.

They led him back down the stairs of the city wall and along the street and into the nearby building. It had once served as the jail and hall of justice but now had been turned into the headquarters of the invaders. Hercules was led through the hall where men dressed in black armor sat or stood attending to their weapons or studying maps. There was no discussion and the silence of the enemies was unnerving. He said nothing to the men around him as they led him along into a hall and down some stairs into the cell blocks below.

The halls were small and stale and smelled of human waste. The Son of Zeus took up the whole of the hall, his head almost brushing the ceiling and his shoulders barely missing the walls. Hercules could smell the metallic odor of blood in the air. He was led down another flight of stairs until he got to the cell that would hold him. It was dark down in this place far below the daylight. No windows graced the rooms and little air circulated. It was also cold. Torches burned along the walls of the corridors, but in the cells only shadows could be seen in the darkness.

The guards opened the door, and most stepped away drawing their swords while one undid the prisoner's belt chain and the manacles on his wrists. Then they began to leave.

"What about my legs?" Hercules asked.

"Those stay," answered the guard.

The door to his cell slammed shut with an unsettling finality and he heard the guards walk away. The man sighed and retreated to the corner, sitting down to wait and think. He sighed as he rested his head against the dank wall, running his hands over his face. This was not going well. He shook his head tiredly and closed his eyes to get some rest.

Part Three

A young man moved with powerful grace over the form of his lover. His body undulated in the rhythm of the carnal act. Beneath him, his lover, a woman of middle years rose and fell to meet him until they gasped, trembled at once, and then relaxed. The young warrior settled gently on top of his heart's delight as she stroked his back with long red nails. Then swiftly with one of the nails, sharpened to a razor's edge, she pierced his back and drove it into his heart. He cried out once as his life force fled from him into the woman. She groaned at the new power and lay for a moment, breathing heavily.

She slid the unconscious body off her and arose from the bed as a tall robed figure stepped out of the shadows and came over to her, handing her a scarlet wrap for her naked form. Then the figure handed her a towel and she wiped her finger on it and cast it aside onto floor beside the man.

"I grow weary of the delay," said the woman in scarlet. "Our powers increase every day and we have powerful allies now, yet we still hide and wait. What are we waiting for, Penelope? I say we are ready for the conquest of the Greek City-states."

The other woman took off the hood of her robe. She was younger and more delicate in comparison to the handsome features of her companion. Her hair was blond in contrast to the black locks. She smiled, and the smile was almost radiant, hiding the darkness that she had locked within her.

"You're too impatient, Vita," she replied. "The Greek forces are still far too strong for us. And you must take into account the Amazons. They will fight along side the Greek warriors if called."

"Fools!" said the dark-haired woman. "Once they were strong and fierce. They worshipped the true power! Now they worship whom they will. One even sleeps with Ares, the War God. Imagine that! Giving herself to that pig." She clucked and shook her head.

"Not all the Amazons have left the power," answered Penelope. "There are those who still worship Hera and maintain her temple. Others worship the huntress, Artemis."

Vita looked up at her and smiled, her eyes narrowed with thought. "Have we approached any of these women? They would make fine leaders for our troopers and good members of the Craft. We need to bring them into the coven."

"Plans are being carried out even now," said Penelope, "to bring some of them in but we still need to gain more warriors for our army." She moved the head of the man with her toe. "And not just young bucks new to battle, we will need great heroes, seasoned warriors that will bring deeper power to our army and give us more of the raw force of the male for the Craft. We have one now." The younger woman smiled.

Her companion looked up at her with eyes wide with unpleasant surprise. "Don't tell me! Don't even say the name," said Vita. Her eyes glared now with anger. "Do you mean to say to me that we have...?"

"That's right," replied her friend. "Hercules! What better altar on which harness to the male powers of the cosmos?"

"Excellent, but he's half god, our allies may object. Also, that trait may prove a challenge to our powers of acquisition."

The younger woman laughed. "He's bound with steel right now but soon the bindings will be far stronger. I don't share your skepticism. I believe he will be a shining jewel in our crown. I have given the guards strict orders to have him held for me." Penelope smiled.

The older woman laughed to herself as she pulled the robe around her and tied the sash. She strode out of the room with her companion. Two servants came in and took the body of the young man away. They carried it down into the rooms below where women of the coven began the process of regenerating the body and turning it into a slave for their service. Soon he stood up again. Now his eyes had no light in them. He dressed in the black clothing and armor that was laid out for him and joined the troopers that were assembling.

Hercules opened one eye. The room was dark but he'd felt slight movement of air near him. Something brushed against his arm. He lashed out with a powerful sweep and something thudded against the wall.

"Yikes!" said a woman's voice. It was high pitched. "For Heaven's sake, be careful!"

"Bastet?" Hercules whispered. "Warn me, will you? I can't see anything. I didn't know who you were."

"No, I'm the other one," answered the cat. He felt something brush against his arm and he reached down and stroked soft fur. "My sister is with her Amazon friends. I came to see Mace and he told me you'd been captured! What happened?"

"You tell me. This whole thing is so twisted up with sorcery and I need to find out what's going on." He paused. "What happened to the good old days when you went out, kicked some warlords around and went home. Nothing is ever simple anymore. I must be getting too old for this," the Son of Zeus replied. "Can you get these leg irons off me?" His eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness and he could see a small figure walk down to his legs. The cat sniffed the manacles and a flash of light threw her back.

"Pfffft!" the cat cried out. "Ouch! The damn thing singed off some of my whiskers, my whiskers!"

Hercules swept her up into his arms. "Are you all right?" He stroked her gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that would happen."

Xastet hissed as she glared down at the metal on his legs. He could feel her heart racing. "My whiskers! Now it's personal," she replied. Hercules couldn't help but laugh at the cat's vain reply. "Well, things will be changing very soon," she commented, and then growled. "My whiskers. They're my crowning glory."

"Changing?" Hercules said, squeezing the cat a little to remind her.

"Ares is here," Xastet replied. "He's under the cover of an ordinary soldier in Dorinides' army. Why, I have no idea. I say pull out that gorgeous Sword of War and let's clean this mess up."

Hercules laughed. "Ares may want to see if Dorinides and his commanders can do this themselves. He's grown wiser in his old age. He's not the blood thirsty, arrogant bastard that he once was but don't tell him I said that or I'll pull out the rest of your whiskers." He squeezed the cat again gently.

"Hercules and Ares on the same side," the cat replied jumping down and going back to the manacles. She paced around them looking at them, being careful not to come too close. "There's something we never thought we'd see."

"Strangely enough, I think we were always on the same side. We have a lot in common. We both hate Hera. We both love Greece and her city states, and ... " His voice trailed off.

The cat looked up from the manacles. "And?"

"We both love the fight," he replied quietly. He watched the cat pace around his legs, looking at the shackles. "I never wanted to admit that but I realize now it's true. It's not that I like to hurt others, I don't, but I love the thrill of the battle. I like to pit myself again the foe to see who will win." He put his head back and closed his eyes. "I am what I am," he said. "I'm a warrior, not a farmer or a statesman or a priest. I'm a warrior."

"You sound sad," Xastet replied, going back to looking at the manacles. "This realization, is it so bad?"

"I always saw myself as a man of peace but all the while, I was fighting. How could I have been so naive?"

The cat laughed. "You are a man of peace," she answered. "We like to think that life is simple. That all that we are and do can fit neatly into little cubbyholes of our moral system. But the reality of life is that most of what we do challenges us to face the moral dilemma that what we are and what we want to be will never quite meet. They may get close if we are very lucky in our lives but they will never merge completely. We will struggle to be the best of what we are, and that will only ever be a pale reflection of what we should be. Only a greater force will make those two meet. I don't know what it is but I know that it is coming." She reached out with one paw and struck the metal quickly with feline speed. The manacles fell away from Hercules' legs with a spark.

"Yes!" he whispered. "Good kitty."

She snorted her response and went to the door. Hercules stood up and stretched then went to the door also. Not much of the hall could be seen in the dim light. Hercules tried the door then picked up the cat, putting her through the bars of the door.

"Go see what you can find down there. Look for the nearest guards, and weapons, I need a sword," he said, letting her drop to the floor outside. He took hold of the bars on the door and jerked it several times. With several more efforts, the door gave way from its hinges and lock and the hero set the door aside and followed where the cat had gone.

Part Four

Dorinides stood at a large table in the tent of the commanders, looking over the map. His aides and officers stood around the table with him as men came and went. On either long side of the tent, warriors stood at attention. On the west side, in the waning light of day, Ares and Mace stood next to each other in the line of men on duty now.

Celaus stood at the head of the table. He had circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and his armor needed tending. He had been going among the men all day, raising morale, checking on his warriors, and giving orders on who would go and who would stay from among the walking wounded. The men liked him but the feeling in the camp was one of confusion and doubt. Doubt, Celaus knew, was the enemy of the foot soldier. It robbed him of quick and decisive action, and the young commander had been promoting that with Dorinides there now, the tide of the campaign would change. Most of the men felt differently.

Despite his fatigue, Celaus felt hopeful. He couldn't understand why, but he had the strangest feeling that circumstances were going to change. He wondered if seeing the God of War might be the difference. He had always envisioned the War God as forbidding and cruel. Certainly the older warriors who had been in the presence of Ares had told him that the god was the embodiment of deadly war, severe and completely without compassion. He had had a different experience. The War God was stern, and certainly hard, but not unfeeling. He was the leader, the one upon whom the final responsibility rested for victory or defeat. Celaus sensed that Ares felt that the loss of the city was his own fault and this surprised the young officer. For a moment, when Celaus was not feeling terror, he almost felt pity for the man.

Now as the young commander stood listening to Dorinides orate endlessly about the campaign, he put his mind to the tactics of the next encounter with the enemy. He was at a loss to understand why the enemy appeared to have an unending supply of warriors. They fought with ferocity, made little sound, and seemed to die quietly as if it meant little to them. The Greeks had not been able to capture any of the enemy alive. This was unnerving and Celaus was perplexed, but he wondered if this could be used to the Greek's advantage.

Celaus was deep in thought when he realized that there was an awkward silence in the room. He looked up to see his general looking at him.

"Well?" Dorinides asked, annoyed.

Celaus looked around embarrassed. "I'm sorry, sir," he answered. "I was thinking about tactical issues and didn't hear your question."

"That was exactly what I was asking," the general replied. "What is our next move?"

Celaus took a deep breath and looked at the map. He felt unsure. He shook his head slowly and began to speak but stopped. A chill ran down his spine, he straightened up, and looked back at the general. "Sir, here is what I recommend..." Suddenly, the plan had become clear to him and he began to speak about his ideas for the next battle. As he lined it out, men around the table nodded in agreement, and within the next hour, the new orders were going out to the troops. Celaus went back to his tent and the assembly broke up to get much needed rest.

As Mace and Ares walked back to their campsite, Mace smiled and nudged his friend. "Brilliant ideas the young man had, don't you think?" he said quietly. "He is well versed in the strategy and tactics of war, far beyond his years."

Ares smiled back. "Well, you never know where ideas will come from," he replied. "The trick is to be open to inspiration when it comes your way."

They built up their fire to keep warm for the night, and settled in to wait for mess call. In the meanwhile, the two tended to their arms and armor. Other warriors joined them until the call for supper came. Mace looked around, worried, as he joined the other soldiers in line.

"I wonder when our little friend will return," he said finally to Ares as they took their rations back to their fireplace.

Ares looked around, sending out his senses. He frowned. "If she's not back by nightfall, I'll go look for her."

"Aren't you going to go rescue Hercules?" Mace asked quietly, looking around so as not to be heard by the other men approaching.

"No, not yet. Maybe in the morning, let's see how the battle goes." The God of War began to eat, then made a face that made his friend laugh. "How do you stand this?"

"Well, we certainly don't join the army for the cuisine," Mace replied. Other men had joined them now by the fire.

Hercules walked quietly down the hall, following where he had seen the cat disappear. He listened for the sound of approaching footsteps and heard nothing. He came to another hallway, looked carefully around the corner and still saw and heard nothing. It was odd Xastet had not come back.

He walked down this corridor and came to yet another. Now the Son of Zeus became suspicious. He had been brought down these halls before by the enemy guards and had never been taken through this many turns. He turned around and retraced his steps but now he could not find the hall he had come from. He looked down this hall. It was different. The cells were gone. The number of torches were different. He stopped. "I'm being toyed with, like an animal in a maze," he thought. He sighed, gathering his thoughts, then began walking again. Now he was not careful or quiet. He continued to walk the long corridors of the dungeon. The path appeared endless. He never came to cells, or stairs, or a room. He was growing impatient but he realized that losing his temper was fruitless. He decided to continue walking until something happened.

Soon his dilemma was over. He rounded yet another corner and there in the hall lay the cat. She was over on her side. The hero ran up to her and picked the creature up gently.

"Xas," he said. "Come on, sweetheart. Speak to me." The cat's head lolled to the side. She was unconscious but alive. Hercules put the cat's body up against his, looking around. "What in Hades do you want?" he shouted.

A woman's voice laughed. "We want you," came the answer. "The sorceress is an added gift that we did not foresee."

Hercules sighed. "You want me, take me but let her go."

"You are in no position to bargain," the voice replied. "We will have you and the sorceress. She may provide us with powers that I had not thought we could acquire so soon." Hercules began to walk down the hall again before the voice finished. "Stop where you are, male!" it shouted. "I have not given you leave to go."

"You want me, come get me. Otherwise, shut up," he answered over his shoulder. He put the small, warm form of the cat inside his shirt, holding it to him gently with his arm, and rounded another of the endless corners.

He had walked a dozen more corridors when he finally came to a large circular room. In the center, a circle of women stood waiting, dressed in sleeveless robes of black with strange symbols emblazoned in purple. He could not identify the symbols. They were not any languages he had ever seen. The robes had hoods that hid their faces.

The women turned as he came in and faced him, he could feel their eyes on him in the shadows of their hoods. Each raised her hands before her, chanting quietly.

Hercules felt the power of their spell surround him. He began to grow tired and felt like his feet were made of stone. Within seconds, he stood immobile. One of the women threw her hood back and approached him. She was young, attractive, and looked innocent with wide blue eyes. The hero sensed that behind those eyes of blue was a darkness that he had known before in other practitioners of the dark arts. He didn't fight the spell that was woven around him. He cleared his mind of any thoughts and pushed all emotion away.

"My name is Penelope," the girl said.

"Certainly not like the great Penelope, wife of Odysseus," Hercules said. "She is a model of constancy and faithfulness for all women."

The girl's eyes flashed with anger. "She was a fool! To allow herself to be ruled by men, what a fool!" She reached out and tore away his shirt, looking aghast. "Where's the sorceress?" she cried. Others in the group began to murmur.

Hercules smiled. "Oh, she had to go," he replied. "She has a lover in the camp of the Greeks. He gets annoyed when she's late."

Penelope growled, lashing out, and slapped him across the face. "Pigs. You men are pigs!"

The tall man continued to smile at her, saying nothing.

Part Five

Mace was bedding down for the night. He wrapped himself in his cloak and looked across the fire at Ares who sat looking into the flames, stirring the coals with a short branch. The god looked far away in thought.

"You going out?" Mace asked.

"Yes, I want to go see what happened to our friend. Also, check out the city," the War God replied absentmindedly. He took at deep breath and began to get up when a small black form appeared in the distance, darting among the campsites and running toward them with her tail high. Xastet jumped over a sleeping soldier and arrived at the fireside, leaping into Mace's arms.

The large man caressed the cat, kissing her between the ears and running his hands down her back. "We were worried," he whispered. The cat nuzzled up against his jaw with her cheek, purring.

Ares threw the stick aside, coming over to his friend and crouching down beside him so that he could whisper and be heard. "Tell us what you found," he said quietly.

The cat pricked her ears up. "I almost found the afterlife," she answered. "There is a powerful coven of sorceresses behind this campaign. I know their work. I thought that this sect had been long gone but women of the Craft have apparently revived it. They are the worshipers of Astarte," she said, looking up at Ares.

The God of War frowned. "Astarte! I thought that she was long gone." He looked at Mace. "I have heard tales of her at my father's knee. Astarte was the lover of Baal. They existed during the time of the rule of the Ancient Ones. Not much is known about the two of them except that they were suppose to have left this plane and gone to another after a battle with Osiris. They were supposedly creatures of the darkness."

Mace sighed. "More battles with the forces of evil, the Three again?" he said quietly.

"I don't know," Ares answered. He looked down at the cat. "What do you think?"

"I think our fight with the Three is over for good, I hope, and Astarte is probably no more than a figurehead now in the Craft," she answered. "She has not been seen or felt for centuries. There was a time when my sister and I were involved in such things. It is not a time we speak of with pride." She paused to look away for a moment. "Astarte's greatest spells were written in a book called the Book of Night, perhaps a coven has found this instrument and is calling forth ancient powers."

"Ancient powers," Mace said sourly and spat on the ground. He looked over at Ares. "Can't you cosmic types keep each other in line?"

"We do as well as you humans do," Ares answered, irritated.

Mace snorted contemptuously. "At least we don't have so much power at our fingertips."

Xastet laughed. "Don't be too sure. Humans will change the face of the earth. We can topple civilizations and wipe out whole cultures."

Mace looked down at the cat, frowning. "Yes, but we really have to work at it." He looked over at his warrior friend. "You gods can do such things with a sneeze."

Ares laughed and stood up. He looked around, watching the campfires dim and the camp become quiet. "Sometimes I wonder who you're referring to." He began to walk away, nodding to the cat to follow him.

"I just got back," she whispered. "I need some," she looked up at Mace, "quality time."

Ares laughed under his breath. "Suit yourself," he said, walking toward the shadows between the tents of the officers. He disappeared and then in the darkness beyond the tents, Mace could see a panther moving toward the walls of the city. Its form was barely visible in the darkness. The large feline vanished into the night.

Hercules lay on a bed in Penelope's room. He was naked save for his linens and chained to the bed with manacles. Penelope sat in a chair by the fire looking at him, her legs crossed so that the robe she wore fell open to show her long legs. Hercules stared up at the ceiling. He grimaced, moving his arms to stretch the sore muscles, then he sighed and continued to stare at the intricate carvings on the ceiling.

"You could do worse than to serve one of the leaders of the Craft," Penelope said quietly. She picked up a glass of wine from the small table next to her and sipped it delicately. "Soon men will have few choices. You had best take my offer while you can."

"It's hard to get in the mood when you're chained up," Hercules replied.

"Some men enjoy being chained up."

"Some men enjoyed dressing in women's clothing and going out to seek the company of other men. I have nothing against them but it's not what I would choose." He smiled up at the ceiling. "Which is fortunate as I don't think I would make an attractive woman." He turned his head and looked at her. "But then that is just my opinion." The woman growled with anger, which made him smile again.

"I could make this very painful for you," she said, almost in a whisper. She stood up and walked over to the bed, running her red nail down his chest. "Maybe you would enjoy that." She raked her nails across his stomach leaving four gouges that quickly began to bleed.

Hercules had flinched, more out of surprise than pain. He looked down at his stomach and frowned. "World domination by women?" he asked. "Personally, my vote would be for the Amazons. They're tough, fair - well most of them are. They use their hands and their heads and not magic. Well, some of them do but only when they have to. And they don't kill for no reason." He looked up at her. "Sorry."

"We have a very good reason to kill," she replied, calming herself. She realized her anger was pointless and the game might be fun. "We kill to gather our strength, not much different than killing for food. We feed on the souls of our lovers. I still hold out the hope that I can persuade you to be my lover. I hate to force men although that does have its pleasures."

Hercules snorted his disgust. "I'm afraid that you will have to deal with disappointment. This doesn't come as a shock to you, I hope."

She smiled. "Not really." She waved her hands and the manacles fell away. The warrior made a quick lunge toward the woman to grab her before she could start her spell but even as he got his hands on her, the numbness set in and his arms lost their strength. They slid off her waist heavily and he would have fallen to the floor if she had not caught him and rolled him back onto the bed. His face was set in a look of stony hostility.

Penelope let her robe drop away to reveal the perfect youthful body that had served her so well. "Oh, I like your spirit," she said, giggling. She crawled onto the bed, straddling his hips. "Now let me see," she went on, sitting down on his thighs. She ran one finger over the wounds on his stomach. "Shall I use a spell of compliance or a spell of obedience? They're about the same thing with a few minor but interesting differences."

Hercules' eyes looked up at her and then beyond her for a moment.

"You'd better use a spell of safety," said a voice behind her. Strong hands reached out and grabbed her around the mouth as someone lifted her off the bed. Ares held her tightly for a moment until she stopped struggling, then let her body drop. By then, the spell on his half-brother had dissipated and Hercules was on his feet.

"Is she dead?" Hercules asked.

Ares looked over at him, frowning. "Do you care?"

"Yes, I guess I do," he replied, sighing. He went over to where his clothing had been lain and began to dress.

"Well, get over it." Ares reached out with his senses to detect any danger. He felt none, but felt a chill that momentarily concerned him. He shook his head and picked up the woman's robe. "Here, wrap her in this and no, she's not dead."

His half-brother smiled and took the robe. He tore a piece off and put it in her mouth to gag her then tied her hands with another piece and wrapped her in the rest. "Do you have any idea what is going on here?"

Ares looked back at him at his place by the window. "Sort of, do you?"

"Sort of," Hercules replied. He hoisted the unconscious woman onto his shoulder and stood up. "So now what?"

"It's almost dawn," the War God replied. "I'll get us both back to camp before the battle starts. They're going to need both of us. Now that you have a prisoner, this may change the tide of the campaign."

"Why don't you just end this?" Hercules said. "Call a meeting of the gods, go to Olympus, do whatever it is you immortals do. These witches are feeding off the souls of men. They need to be stopped. Ordinary battle tactics are not going to do any good against this power so why do more soldiers have to die?"

Ares went over to the window and looked out over the street scene then back at Hercules. "You're right," he replied. "This has gone on long enough. This is no longer in the mortal domain. I need to step in." He gathered his powers to transport them both away but nothing happened. Shocked, he looked over at Hercules who looked back with equal horror.

The door to the room opened and both men turned and groaned in unison as Vita strode in. Behind her, the head of the coven walked into the room and smiled.

"Hercules and Ares," said Hera. "On the same side, and my prisoners. It does my heart good to know that you are as predictable as ever," she finished, looking over at her husband's bastard son. Both men felt a power grip them. It took Hercules' breath away and the woman dropped onto the floor with a thud.