A Trial of Heroes

Part One

From the Annals of Bastet

Evening was coming now in the city of Galgona. The sun on the horizon made a brilliant display of colors as it disappeared for the night, but the beauty was lost on those who watched from the city walls. Soldiers watched the plains beyond their ramparts but no movement from the enemy had been seen all day. Amazons and Galgonians alike stood and watched, waiting for the break they needed to turn the tide of the siege. Daily, the trapped citizens and the Amazons who had come to help them watched as the army of Dahak grew in numbers. Lady Pegasus, who had been sent under cover of night to get help, had not returned and the Amazons feared the worst about their winged sister. What had started as a quick campaign to repel a small group of mercenaries, had turned into a major conflict that was not going well for the besieged. What was worse, the Amazons had learned of the illness of Hercules. Forum members were worried about their friend but could do nothing but fight the present fight and hope for the best.

In the courtyard of the Amazon contingent, women worked on their weapons, came and went from the Queen’s quarters with messages and orders, and talked among themselves. Forum members had gathered in the square adjacent to continue to train the city’s reluctant militia.

Amazons and Galgonian soldiers watched as Lessa wielded her sword in a perfect parry, knocking her opponent’s weapon from his hand. “You see, that’s how it’s done,” she said to the young soldier. He glared at her and stamped over to where his sword lay, picking it up and cutting the air angrily. Suddenly he turned and charged, lunging at her. She parried his attack again, sending the sword flying, then she slapped him with the back of her hand across his face. He fell back onto the ground.

“What the Tartarus is the matter with you?” she said angrily, picking up his blade. “I’m trying to show you a move that will save your sorry skin!”

The young man got up and went over to his comrades. They pushed him around, baiting him with insults and finally a fight broke out among them.

Lessa started toward the group but was called back by Calico. “It’s no use,” she said, pulling Lessa along with her and walking over to the Amazons that had watched the exchange. “The people are rude. The soldiers are undisciplined and short-tempered. It’s like this city is going mad. They can’t take the stress of this seige, we’d best make ourselves scarce.”

Hygea stood leaning on her staff. “It’s eerie. It’s like they can’t control themselves. My voices are confused.”

Kendaa was putting away her sword. She looked up at the Seer. “What did you say?”

Hygea looked at her. “My voices are confused," she repeated.

"No, before that," the tall Amazon replied.

"I said that it is eerie. It’s like the people can’t control themselves. The Amazons are more focused than I have ever seen. Not a short word between us, even with illness, little food, and bad water. But the Galgonians are insane. Just yesterday, a woman stabbed her husband and she cannot tell the magistrate why! She said he just annoyed her!”

“Well, men can be annoying,” Lessa added, watching the fight across the courtyard settle down. “I don’t blame her.”

Kendaa had stood up. She began to frown as she looked over at Klio, who had just joined them.

“What?” Klio asked, looking back at her friend.

“I have a very bad feeling,” Kendaa said to the group. “Warriors highly focused and ordinary people losing control. That can only mean one thing.”

Klio’s face dawned a look of horror just as Lessa turned around suddenly to stare at Kendaa, surprise dawning on her face also.

“Oh, Gods!” Lessa whispered.

“What?” Hygea asked, looking around.

Calico began to frown. “Oh no,” she said also.

“What?” Hygea asked again, beginning to panic herself.

“Ares!” said Kendaa in unison with the War God’s daughter and his pupil. The three exchanged worried glances. “Something must have happened to Ares. We have no standing God of War,” Kendaa uttered in a gasp.

Part Two

Discord sat on the dark, backless throne of the God of War. She looked down the stairs in front of the throne at the empty hall, its gray stone walls were veined in black and its black marble floor was emblazoned with the War God’s symbol in the color of freshly spilled blood. She imagined the warlords of all the lands coming to serve and service her at her whim. She pursed her lips in delight and then smiled, putting her foot out on the weapon that lay on the floor before her.

“Oh, Ares, you are such a fool,” she said, slowly drawing the sword toward her with her toe. “You just cannot hold onto this thing.” She bent down and picked up the hilt, struggling to lift the heavy weapon, and balance the point on the ground between her legs. “Grandmother was right. All men are pigs.” She l ooked at the sword before her, staring at the highly polished blade and noticing again the small piece of metal that had been taken from the anchoring of the blade to the hilt. She smiled.

There was a falsetto giggle from the shadows. Discord sat up and looked around. Then Strife pranced out of the dark corner of the temple into the light that shown in from the skylight in the middle of the temple.

“Oh, great Goddess of War,” Strife said, bowing with flourish. “I come to serve the new First Warrior.”

“Don't be stupid,” Discord said, sneering. “Dahak brought you back for his purposes. You are his, never forget that!”

“How humble we’ve become,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. “I’m stunned.”

“Not humble, sensible!” Discord replied. “I know which way the celestial wind blows. Everyone thinks I’m a fool like those other ninnies that infest Olympus, but living in the shadow of Ares has taught me a thing or two. I waited and I watched.” She let the sword fall to the floor and it clanked on the marble, sliding down the stairs.

Discord stood up and followed it down to the bottom of the stairs slowly. When she reached the bottom, she looked at the weapon at her feet. Then she picked it up, and dragged it along beside her as she approached Strife. “I waited and I watched,” she continued, walking around the lone man as he stood in the beam of light that came down from the skylight. “I waited for Hera to go tumbling into oblivion. I waited for Zeus to get caught up in another one of his endless affairs and leave the halls of Olympus. I watched Ares as he became infected with a soul by those ranting, sentimental creatures, the Amazons.” She turned suddenly to Strife, rage twisting her face into a grimace. “They mutilated his dark purity!”

Strife began to giggle again. “Oh, my. You are quite worked up about those she-demons!”

“I hate them more than Hera did,” Discord said. “But unlike Hera, I have developed the ability to stand in the shadows of others.” She began to walk around him again. The sword made an eerie sound as it scraped along the marble floor. “I know what’s what. I’m a minor goddess in a little tiny world. If I ever want to be anything, I need to ally myself with real power.”

“Like Dahak,” Strife replied.

“Yes, like Dahak. But Dahak is only the beginning. There are other planes and other existences. Dahak showed me a universe of possibilities and I mean to take what is mine!” she finished.

Now she was standing in back of Strife. He turned his head slightly, now serious. “Dahak summoned me back from oblivion with his powers,” he said quietly. “He ordered me to come here to you. What is your command, mistress?”

She stood for a moment with the sword before her. She put both hands on the hilt and jerked the huge weapon up, twirling it over her head as she screamed with anger. The blade arced out just as Strife turned and gasped. It was the last thing he saw as the blade severed his head from his body. The form crumpled as the head flew off and rolled into the corner. A flash of lightening lit the room and Strife’s severed form disappeared. The room was still again. Discord dropped the heavy weapon, her eyes glistening at the power she commanded. Then she heard a tiny scratching noise. She looked up at the throne. On it sat a spider the size of a man’s hand. Its eight little red eyes stared down at the woman.

“This is my child,” it whispered, “in whom in am pleased.”

She smiled up at the ghastly figure. “My Lord,” she said, looking the bloody sword on the floor. “I’ve done what you asked. I’ve killed a god.”

“I brought him to you for this purpose. You have proven yourself worthy,” said the spider.

The dungeon stairs were cold. Discord walked down the stairs, taking every step meticulously, as if she was in a solemn ceremony. The sword was strapped to her back now. She could hear the spider crawling behind her in the shadows. She reached the bottom of the stairs and took the torch from the wall, continuing down a long dank corridor carved by magic from solid rock. At the end was a door made of burnished brass and bearing a strange seal.

Discord walked to the door and put her hands out in supplication. The door opened as she heard the spider whisper something to it.

The goddess gasped as the prize behind it was revealed. She smiled.

There was Ares, his arms outstretched and chained with manacles to the ceiling corners of the room. He was naked to the waist, his skin was white with cold and bruised along his left ribs. The leather breeches were torn down one leg.

He looked up at her, his face unreadable.

“That looks very uncomfortable,” Discord said as she walked up to the man who towered over her. She nestled up to his chest. “Oh, your skin is so cold.”

The War God looked down at her and she still could not read the emotion in his face.

She took one nail and dug it into his chest, watching the blood bead around her black nail.

“Do you know why your back hurts? You do feel the pain in your back, don’t you?” she asked.

Ares frowned but said nothing. He continued to look down at her.

“I took,” she explained, “a small piece of metal from your sword, and buried it in your back, as Dahak told me, just below your left shoulder blade. And do you know why?” she looked up, smiling.

Ares continued to stare, not moving.

“Because that small piece of your sword will give you just enough immortality,” she continued, getting closer and closer to his face, “so that you will last a long, long time while I hurt you.” She looked up into his dark eyes. “What do you think of that?”

For a moment, the huge man just stared, then he began to smile ever so slightly and the look on his face infuriated her.

“Well,” he said, quietly, “I have some very disappointing news for you, my dear.” He arched an eyebrow and looked almost sympathetic. “There is nothing that you can do to me that I don’t deserve.”

Discord growled as her face contorted in rage. She screamed and began to claw at the man’s exposed chest. Ares turned his face away.

The spider laughed softly.

Part 3

The door closed with a sickening thud as the goddess Discord left the dungeon chamber. Her anger was spent now and the spider who had watched the exchange between the two Olympians whispered to her to follow him and leave the wounded man.

In the blackness of the room, Ares finally let out his breath. He relaxed his arms, then tried to stretch them in the uncomfortable position that he was in. The blackness made a terror well up inside him that he had not felt for many years, a terror that he thought he had left behind when he had given up any tender feelings. The darkness hurled him back to his creation. Ares inhaled sharply and held his breath, closing his eyes tightly and growling.

"I hate you, mother," he whispered.

For a moment, he panicked, thinking he was going to cry. The feeling made him furious. He put his head back and screamed in rage. But the walls were solid rock and no one could hear. He knew this for he had built these chambers himself and he knew their secrets. His emotions drained now from the outburst, he allowed himself to relax, wiping the trickle of blood on his face on the inside of his arm. Discord had given him a myriad of scratches and bruises in her rage but strangely, he began to laugh.

"I can't seem to hold onto that damn thing," he said to himself, thinking about his sword. "It's a curse. No wonder it drove Hercules mad." He giggled almost drunkenly. "Ares, God of War, a prisoner in his own fortress, held captive by one of his minions and the Ancient One that he tried to make a deal with." He let his head fall forward with a groan. "This is not good."

Time crawled along. The dark warrior slept for a while then woke with a start. He realized again where he was. After a moment's anxiety, he pulled himself together and began to explore the powers that were left to him. He closed his eyes and focused on this inner senses. He still had some ability to sense the events in the distance. He frowned as he sensed dozens of battles throughout the globe. He could not tell who was fighting whom, who was winning or losing, or where. He reached out further, straining to make sense of the images and feelings that once would have been second nature to him. He willed himself to focus.

Suddenly, he sensed danger around someone important to him. The image of Kendaa, his Chosen flooded his mind.

"Gods," he said to himself. He had been aware of the conflict in Galgona when it had arisen but when he had heard that the Amazons had deployed troops to the city, he dismissed the problem to attend to other, more important battles. Then the sword had fallen into Discord's hands. Only Dahak could have engineered that feat and Ares felt the smallest sense of relief in knowing that it had taken an Ancient One to wrench his power from him.

Ares was just nodding off as exhaustion overcame him again when he began to see the faintest light in the room. He looked around. A blue light was forming in the corner before him and he heard the tinkle of tiny bell. He smiled as he saw the figure of the mysterious Bastet take shape. Azure colors swirled around the small black cat. Her green eyes shined as she gazed up him.

"Hello, blessed one," she said quietly.

"You'll forgive me if I don't bow," Ares replied, sarcastically.

The cat laughed softly. "I am sorry that Dahak is putting you through this ordeal," she answered.

"Why can't you Ancient Ones keep him under control?" the War God asked.

"We do that as well as you Olympians do keeping each other in check," she replied.

Ares laughed. "Considering that I am the Olympian that most complain about, I suppose I should consider that a compliment. Have you come to free me and give me back my sword?"

Bastet shook her head, the small golden hoop that adorned her ear twinkled in the blue light. "I will not restore a weapon of destruction to anyone. You will have to fight this fight without the benefit of that cursed blade." The Ancient One paused for a moment, seeming to be lost in thought. Then she looked back up at the tall warrior. "You must act as my instrument in a cosmic struggle. Dahak is still a prisoner in a world of darkness but with the powers that Discord called forth, his spirit has taken the shape of a spider and he is able to see into this world and work limited magic.

"He has called forth ruffians and criminals from every part of the globe. Once they enter his service, they no longer speak any language but the one he commands. Discord is his emissary on this plane."

Ares snorted. "And to think that I trained her."

The cat nodded sadly. "And unfortunately, you did well. As you may have sensed, the siege of Galgona is not going well. My daughters fight bravely but more of the enemy come each day. The citizens of the city are lax and poorly disciplined, and without a standing God of War people without the teaching of the warrior's way become hostile and lack self-control."

"I thought Discord was the Goddess of War now?" Ares said sourly.

"She does not hold the same power you do," the cat replied. "Her influence does not impart the same singleness of mind that the War God of the Greeks does."

>Ares smiled, understanding the compliment.

"What is worse,” Bastet continued, “Hercules and Iolaus have been captured by the army of Dahak. The Amazons who were with them were able to escape and retreat back to the Greek city-states. They rode to Corinth to sound the alarm Iphicles is now amassing a combined Greek army but he encounters many delays."

"Can you call Xena. She'll come and help."

"Xena is aware of events but the army of Dahak has split into several forces. One marches south toward the southern states. Xena is concerned about her home village, Amphipolis. Her attentions are turned elsewhere," Bastet replied.

Ares thought for a moment and as he did, Bastet twitched one ear and the chains that held him collapsed, sending him into a heap on the floor. He was going to say something cutting but the feeling of relief was so overwhelming that he simply rolled onto his back and lay there, flexing his arms.

Finally, he spoke. The cat had come over beside him and sat down again in her tidy, serene pose. "Why Galgona?" said the War God. "What does Dahak want with that city. It's a minor trading post in an unimportant corner of Greece. They've always been on the margins of civilization."

"And yet close to it is the prosperous Amazon Nation. And to the north, Doran, another wealthy site. The soil is good and Galgona is at a crossroads of trade."

Ares frowned and turned over on his side, grimacing at the discomfort of his wounds. "But it’s still an inconsequential city. No one cares about it. So what makes it so important?"

"Because Galgona is the site of where the Unholy Three buried the head of Osiris after they murdered him. It is cursed. That is why it has never prospered, even being in an advantageous location."

"But I thought Isis had found all the pieces."

"She did, but the place where his head was interred holds the power to bring forth the dead. If Discord takes Galgona, she and Dahak can call forth the armies of the dead. Every warrior who has ever died in battle will be under their command. Even from his dark prison, Dahak will rule the earth."

Ares rolled onto his stomach and got up. Now he towered over the small apparition. "An army of that size could not be stopped."

"A thousand years of terror could ensue," the cat replied quietly. "The world will be ripped asunder by the power of the dark army."

"But still you won't help me get my sword back?"

The cat raised a celestial eyebrow. "May I remind you that you have a hard time holding onto it?" she stated softly.

Ares sighed angrily, putting his hands on his hips in disgust.

"Besides,” she continued, “it will only distract you. You must rely now on those traits that made you chosen for the place of highest warrior."

"What do you mean?" Ares asked, looking at the cat. "I thought I was chosen to be God of War because it pleased Zeus and Hera to make me that."

"My son," the cat replied, "you have only begun a long journey of the heart and spirit. You were offered this fate and your soul chose it long before your parents made any plans. They were the instruments of your desire, not the reverse." The cat's figure began to fade. "But you are my child now."

Then it was black again. Ares felt the panic well up in him. "What about your help?"

"'Trust ¼,” said the fading voice. "¼ in yourself."

Part 4

Kendaa sat in her bunk looking out into the square where her sisters trained and readied themselves for battle. The city streets, cramped and grimy at best, were even more dismal. She shivered for a moment. She had not seen a tree since she had entered this place. She suddenly realized there were very few green growing things at all. No potted plants, no grassy courtyards, no parks with trees adorned this gray stone city. The flora of the Earth seemed to have to squeeze its way up through the wretched street stones or out of the cracks in the houses. She shivered again. "This is my idea of Tartarus," she said to herself, and went back to caring for her staff.

Tedras came into the room from the street. Kendaa stood up and embraced her petite friend.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" asked the half-Dryad.

Tedras shook her head and sat down on the bunk across from Kendaa as she sat down and went back to her work on her weapons.

"This place is evil," Tedras said quietly. "When I first came here, I could change but now ¼" Her voice drifted off as she stared for a while out the window. "It's like something is pulling me down. Something is sucking my strength away."

Kendaa nodded in return. "There is something about this place that's not right." Then she thought for a moment. "How do you know something isn’t wrong with the dragons? You were ill last time they were threatened."

Tedras shook her head again. "It's not the same. I know they are all right. I can't explain it. I'm tired. I can't change. I feel like ¼" She groped for words. "I feel drained. It's this place. It gives me strange feelings. I have to use all my energy just to keep from letting it overtake me." She paused again for a moment. "This place is my idea of Tartarus,” she whispered as she lay down on the bunk. Within a heartbeat, she was asleep.

Kendaa looked across at her in quiet consternation. "I just said that," she whispered to herself. Then her thoughts drifted back to the worries that she had tried to keep at bay. Outside the Amazon Nation, there were only a handful of souls for which she cared. Two of those few were in danger or worse and she had no way of knowing how they were or intervening.

She thought of her lover, the dark God of War. All the signs pointed to the possibility that he had lost his sword and therefore his godhood. This made him mortal and vulnerable. Kendaa took a deep breath and said a prayer. She was not quite sure to whom, but her frustration needed some quiet appeasement and this was the best she could think of. She wondered about her young son. If Ares was in danger, then so might Leonides be. She felt a wave of panic come over her. She stood up to go out but then thought again and sat down.

She thought then of Hercules. The word had come a while ago that he was ill. She had suspected that the affair with the Sword of War and the conflict with Ichor had affected him deeply. After that combat, he had left the Amazon City suddenly with Iolaus, appearing withdrawn and troubled. Now she had no way of knowing what had happened to him.

The obvious choice to consult would be Hygea. Once a seer at the famed Temple of Delphi, Hygea had retained her powers even though she had been driven from her sacred post. When the news of Hercules’ illness had come to the encamped Amazons, the members of the Forum had asked her to divine what knowledge she could. Hygea had fasted for three days, and secluded herself away in an effort to make sense of the messages of her voices; but she could discern nothing but confusion from her supernatural messengers. Ever since that incident, she had become depressed. Like Tedras, she complained of being tired.

That had been the last news that had come in from the outside world. After the news of Hercules had arrived, the army outside had grown strong enough to cut off all aid and communication. She wondered how large the army had grown by now.

The half-Dryad stood up and stretched in an effort to discharge her pent-up feelings. "This place is evil," she murmured. She put a blanket over Tedras as she slept and went out into the street to find company.

Voices babbled an unintelligible language as the men in the large tent milled around, drinking and taunting the prisoners in their midst. In the center of the tent, a huge scaffolding had been built and strange symbols had been carved into it. These magic letters gave it the power to hold its mighty captives. The Son of Zeus was bound, his arms outstretched and held tight on the framework on one side. Across from him, Iolaus was bound like him on the other side.

Hercules held his face emotionless, looking across at his friend. Iolaus smiled slightly, glancing at him and then looking away as a man came up and jabbed him in the stomach.

From the edge of the room, a cat watched as the two men were tortured in tiny ways. The enemies were vicious, but it was also clear that they had been told not to inflict any wound too great. Waart, a sorceress in the form of a small tabby cat, could only surmise, as she believed Hercules and Iolaus had also figured out, that Discord had given her forces strict orders not to hurt their prisoners. At least, not till she arrived.

The cat crouched under the table on one side of the tent, watching the morbid scene. Right now, she had no choice but to wait, so she watched with a wrenching sense of helplessness. Yet, she also marveled though at the quiet courage of the two men as they bore the brunt of the taunting impassively. Their eyes met periodically, just for an instant, before they each stared off. The looks sent a volumes as the two bolstered each other with a glance.

The cat slunk out of the tent, under the heavy canvas and into the night. Part Five

The darkness of the room chilled the War God more than the cold did. He stood still watching where the Ancient One’s form had been, now faded into black.

“Trust in yourself,” Ares said to himself. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing to calm his pounding heart. Every time he became mortal, and they were becoming annoyingly frequent, he learned a little more about the trials of heroes. It was easy to be brave when there was no possibility of injury or death. The worst fate that could befall him as a god would be humiliation before the other gods. That had seemed like no small matter then, but as he stood here in the cold blackness, he realized how insignificant all his former worries had been. He took a deep breath and began to feel his way to the edge of the room.

The first time that Ares had lost his sword, he dismissed the incident as a fluke; but when his mother took it a second time and almost killed him with it, the Lord of War had a revelation about his nature. He realized he had to make plans for the likelihood that he could lose his godhood again and he swore secretly to be ready. It was then that, among other preparations, he built this temple. Every room that was impregnable had a secret that only he knew so that his fortress would not be used against him.

Carefully, he followed the perimeter of the wall until he found the door that sealed him in. He felt along the edge of the door carefully, until he found what his touch had been seeking. He found a small round stone imbedded in the wall. He took the stone out and behind it was a draw cord. He pulled the cord and the door lock released.

Ares opened the door carefully, peering down the hallway. No one was on guard. He smiled as he thought of Discord’s arrogance. She did not expect that she would have trouble with him and, apparently, neither did Dahak. The warrior said a prayer of thanks to the One, then drew back for a moment, surprised at his action. Then he smiled slyly. Bastet certainly did have her claws in him.

The tall warrior made his way through the dungeon halls, avoiding any main passages. He dared not go up to the main floor. That meant there was only one other way to get out of the fortress, which was through the air passages that brought fresh air into the lower regions of the structure. He jumped up into one of the passages that was just large enough for a man to crawl. He began to climb through the tunnel until he came to the end. There was the edge of the cliff on which the fortress was built. He looked out of the tunnel to the dizzying dropoff below. He looked up. Clearly there was forty or fifty feet of climbing even before he would reach the smooth stone walls, and then no way to scale the granite. He looked back down.

“A rope hidden somewhere would have been intelligent,” he said to himself as he looked at the formidable climb down. He realized that as a god these heights looked far less difficult than they did right now. He made a mental note of it. It was windy and cold and the sun was just setting. He decided not to go out yet on the chance that someone might see him climbing down. He sat back in the small space and waited for the night to come. Then he would pit his strength and endurance against the will of the cliffs.

It was in the windy descent that Ares also realized he had not planned for the cold. He had only his leather pants and boots on. The wind whipped around his exposed arms and chest and chilled him to the bone. The pants had a ripe on one leg that the wind would catch, sometimes making the footing precarious. Descending was more difficult than going up. One had to feel one’s way more, trusting that the foothold was secure. After an hour or so, the warrior stopped and looked back down to see how far he had gone. The distance he had come so far seemed slight, the way down still looked like leagues. He put his head against the rock and sighed. “How do you mortals get from day to day?” he said to himself, repeating the question he had asked Xena years ago. As a god, the passage of time and the events that made up each man’s history were immaterial, but now as he thought about the events that had passed since then, he began to comprehend the sense of time experienced by mortals.

He began again. This time he began to think about the significant persons in his life as he trained his mind not to think of the distance, the cold and the throbbing pain of his wounds. He thought of all the Olympians and was surprised to recall the fond feelings he had for some. As shallow as Aphrodite seemed, she had substance that few but he had seen. Hephaestus was one of the better beings, loyal to his friends, true to his word, and quiet in his ways. Ares had treated him badly several times, once almost getting him killed. He never knew how Hephaestus had survived the knife cut with the blood of the hind on it but he was secretly relieved that he had not been responsible for the Forge God’s death. Zeus would have had an Olympian fit, but probably done very little about it as Hephaestus was not important to the King of the Gods, even though he was his son. Ares could never understand this either, just as he never understood his own poor treatment at the hands of his parents. Zeus was infatuated with mortals and their dealings, but the closer one was to Olympus, the less one got of his attention and protection. Hercules was half-immortal and received more attention from Zeus than any of his celestial children. At least, he talked a lot to the other gods about the young man’s victories and exploits although he gave him little in the way of actual support. It seemed as Zeus played at being a father, but put little energy into the responsibilities that Ares felt were imperative.

As the warrior thought more about this mystery, he began to see that the struggle was really between Hera and Zeus. It always had been. The animosity between them had to do who had more, more power, more control, and more toys. Zeus had Apollo, Aphrodite, Hades, and Hercules. Hera had Ares, Poseidon, Artemis and Athena, sometimes. And she had had the Amazons when their nation was younger, but their reverence for her had cooled over the years. Hera had the furies but Zeus, the harpies. Everyone had their allegiances but changed sides periodically. Finally, Hera was sent into the pit with Kronos by the hand of Hercules.

Ares stopped on the cliff’s edge for a moment, remembering the instant he had found out that his mother had joined her ancestor. “I never thanked Hercules for that,” he said to himself, then sighed and went on.

Thinking about the Olympian snake pit had given Ares a slight headache. He had had a headache once before after drinking too much wine. The sensation had as unique now as it had been then. He felt his way carefully down the mountain’s face, putting one foot down and then another and trying not to think about the snail’s pace at which he was going.

His mind wandered and he thought about Klio, perhaps the best warrior of his children. She had always performed admirably. She was all that a commander would want in a soldier and more. Yet, he had treated her badly for doing exactly what he had trained her to do and that was to be true to her nature. What he had not understood at the time was that her nature was not entirely martial. His hubris had gotten in the way of seeing this and yet, he could see this now so clearly. She had her mother’s nature as well as his, and it dawned on him that gods thought differently and that difference could be a disadvantage to understanding mortals just as mortals could not fully fathom the gods.

Then he thought about his little son, Leonides. The thoughts of the young child, so free and innocent, filled Ares with a renewed sense of the focus. He began to hurry just a little more. The footing on the cliff had gotten better and he was making faster time down its face. He was just thinking of his young son’s laugh when a gust of wind came up and pushed him away from the face. He panicked, feeling his hand hold loosen. Then his footing gave way and he fell back. Another gust of wind pushed him far enough away from the cliff so that he couldn’t grab a hold again. He fell headlong down the mountain in a free fall.

It was as if time slowed down. He could feel the beat of his heart as he stretched out his arms. Gods could fly, he thought, but he was destined to hit the solid ground and die. Perhaps it would be worse. Maybe he would hit and be so badly injured that he could only lie waiting to die, as the immortality left in him kept his heart beating. He felt like screaming but could not bring himself to. The cliff whizzed by as he picked up speed. Now he realized that he would see what bravery really was.

Part Six

The celebration of the capture over the Son of Zeus and his companion had now quieted down and the enemy soldiers slept here and there where they had passed out. Most had stumbled off to their campsites to sleep. There were guards at the entrance to the tent. They sat in the entryway, gambling and talking amongst themselves, paying little attention to the two men bound in the middle of the tent.

“I wonder if they can understand us,” Iolaus said.

Hercules looked over. He laughed despite their predicament. “I suppose it’s too late to decide against this mission,” he replied.

Iolaus laughed too. “I think so but it never hurts to ask. Why don’t we ask if we can go now?”

Both smiled, but their faces were still grim. The humor cut the tension for a moment, but only for a moment. It changed nothing.

Then the two looked over at the entrance. The enemy soldiers were talking and laughing now in raucous speech and cat calls began as the men stood up to greet someone coming in. There in the door appeared a woman. She was scantily dressed, sashaying in, caressing and touching the men as she wove between them. The two Greeks did not recognize her but by her dress she appeared to be a camp follower, one of those unfortunate women who made her living on her back, getting money from the dogs of war for intimate favors. Her body was curvaceous, her face beautiful but hard. She danced between the men as they reached out and pinched or touched her. She said something to them in their strange tongue and they laughed and began to clap in time.

Then she began to dance to the rhythm of their clapping and she swayed, slipping off her vest to reveal a skimpy top beneath it. Through the top, her breasts were clearly visible. She darted and pranced to the clapping, leading them toward the door then out into the night. As she danced, she slipped off her skirt to expose her long legs and a short shirt underneath, barely covering her loins. She sashayed out the door leading the transfixed men, clapping and gawking, out behind her.

When the curtain closed behind them, the two men stared at each other, realizing they were now alone and unguarded. Hercules took a deep breath and pulled at his binding with all the force he could muster. He was not yet completely well. The magic of the runes and the disadvantage of his illness went against him and he stopped after a while, realizing it was futile. He looked over at his friend and shook his head.

Then something streaked out from under the canvas of the tent into the room and into the shadows.

Iolaus caught sight of it. “Waart?” he whispered, expectantly.

“Oh, now I’m Waart!” replied the cat softly, peering out from under a chair. “What happened to ‘Furball’?”

“That was before I was desperate,” Iolaus replied, grinning. “Thank the gods you’re here. I thought you’d gone back with the Amazons.”

“I fell out of the basket when your horse bolted and ran,” the cat replied. “And thank God I did. You two are trussed up like a couple of holiday hogs waiting to be slaughtered.”

“Thank you for that colorful image,” Hercules murmured sourly, “Are you here to help us or not?”

The cat dashed out into the room and up onto the post where the tall man was bound. “The magic on these posts is strong. It serves to bind and keep out the interference of sorcery,” the cat said as she held on to the post with her claws. She climbed up to the bindings and began to chew through the ropes with ease. “Fortunately ...,” she said between tears and chews, “a sharp tooth comes in handy when magic is unavailable.”

Soon the ropes were frayed and Hercules pulled on them, freeing himself. The cat jumped down and up onto the other post while Hercules undid his other hand. Soon Iolaus was free also.

“It’s a good thing that whore came along when she did,” Iolaus said quietly, undoing his other hand as the cat shimmeyed down.

“I’ll tell her,” Waart answered, “that’s my sister, Xastet.”

Iolaus looked up at the cat, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to imply that your sister is a whore,” he said quickly.

“My sister is a whore, and that’s being kind,” the cat said. “I could regale you with stories of her exploits that would turn even your worldly faces red, but we haven’t the time. Xastet said she would distract them, but I’m not sure what we’ll do from here.”

“Well, let’s see. We could dress up like girls and sneak out,” Iolaus joked, looking over at his friend’s reaction. Iolaus took a sword from the man passed out on the floor beside him.

“Well, you could,” Waart quipped, “you being so dainty and all, but the Titan here is going to be hard to dress.”

Hercules stepped on a sword at his feet, bouncing the blade up into his hand. “You two have no idea how hard it would be to get me into a dress,” he said, pointing the sword at Iolaus. Iolaus grinned.

A black cat trotted into the tent. At first Hercules thought it might be the Ancient One, but then realized it was an ordinary cat. The cat came and sat down by Waart.

“I finally remembered that spell of sleep. It’ll only last for a few minutes as it is built on one of Discord’s spells,” Xastet said, touching noses with her sister. Then she looked up at Iolaus. “Oh, my. I’d forgotten what an attractive young man you are.”

“Please don’t say another word. He’s hard enough to live with as it is,” Waart replied.

“The good news is,” Xastet went on, “that we have two minutes to get out of this camp. The bad news is that when we do, Discord and Dahak will know that you’ve escaped and that I am involved. The hourglass has turned, gentlemen. We need to move.”

Hercules and Iolaus wasted no time. They took off at a dead run, leaping over sleeping men and vaulting over any object in there way. They discarded the weapons for the sake of speed and took off, with the two cats dashing along behind them. Soon the walls of Galgona loomed up before them.

Part Seven

“Is he dead?” said a young boy’s voice.

The War God felt someone put a hand to the side of his neck. “No, but he’s broke up real bad,” said a another young boy’s voice. “We gotta leave him here.”

“But he’s a warrior! Look at his pants and his boots!” said the younger voice.

“Jared,” said the other, “he ain’t no warrior. Look at his skin. He ain’t got no scars. All warriors got scars. It’s what makes ‘em brave and all.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a moment. Ares tried to speak. He couldn’t even open his eyes. The pain throughout his body was exquisite. He managed a moan.

“We can’t just leave him here to die,” said the younger voice.

“He’s gonna die anyway.”

“Water,” whispered the War God.

He heard two gasps.

“Jumpin’ fat Athena! He’s awake!” said the older.

“We gotta get him some water,” said the younger.

“Okay, we’ll make camp here, but in the morning, we’re going on. It’s real close now.”

Ares opened his eyes to see two excited, young faces staring down at him. The warrior looked around, frowning and trying to ignore the two sets of eyes that peered down at him. It was sunset now. He must have lain all night and all the next day where he had fallen until these two had come along. They had made a small fire and dressed some of his wounds with makeshift bandages.

The two were young, possibly eight and eleven. They looked like a thousand recipients of poverty and war that Ares had seen. Their faces were dirty, they looked poorly fed and their clothes were tattered, but their stares were the stares of eager youth and were riveted on him.

“Hello, sir,” said the younger. “We been here only a while and already some of your wounds are gone and there ain’t no scar. Are you a god?”

Ares smiled despite the pain that still wracked his body. “Former god,” he croaked, “I’ve been demoted.”

“Oh, you ain’t no god,” said the older boy.

The younger boy’s face lit up. “Are you Hercules?”

Ares groaned.

“He ain’t Hercules either. Hercules is bigger,” replied the older boy.

The War God laughed despite his pain. “This is my punishment,” he said to himself, gently putting his fingers to his forehead to feel the lump on his temple. “I said there was no pain that I didn’t deserve and the Fates heard me.” He swallowed and tried to sit up but found that he couldn’t. “Get me some water,” he commanded.

The younger boy jumped up and started over to the nearby creek.

“Hey, you don’t need to do that,” said the older, “we ain’t slaves no more.”

Ares looked over at the older boy. “I said, get me some water.”

The youth looked back at him defiantly. For a moment, the two were locked in a test of wills that at any other time Ares would have found absurd. Then the boy got up, breaking the staring contest between them. “All right, but I’m getting the water because I want to, not because you told me to.”

Ares relaxed back onto the ground. “Fair enough.”

The two boys got him water and then had to help him drink, which irritated him. He was feeling the smallest bit stronger. In a while, one of the boys went and found some tubers and berries in the nearby woods and the three ate sparingly. Afterward, the two sat across the fire from the warrior, watching him again as he now had the strength to sit up.

Ares looked across at them. “What are your names?”

The older one straightened his shoulders and spoke. “My name is Saphir and this is Jared.”

“Are you brothers?”

“Sort of, I guess,” said Saphir.

“Sort of?” Ares asked.

“Well, we always been together. We was slaves of an Athenian ...”

“Don’t tell him!” said Jared, jabbing his brother in the side with his elbow. “What’s a matter with you?”

“He ain’t gonna turn us in,” Saphir said to his brother, “He’s probably on the run like us.” He looked over at Ares. “Are you?”

Ares smiled a sad smile. “I am definitely on the run, and I can guarantee that if I am caught again, my fate is going to be far worse than that of a runaway slave.”

“Are you a bandit?” asked Jared.

“No, I am not a bandit,” Ares replied.

“Are you a warrior?” asked the older boy.

Ares smiled again. “I’ve swung a sword or two in my time. You two are just full of questions.”

“Sir, we ain’t ever been anywhere,” explained Saphir. “Our master was leaving Athens with all his stuff on account of the army coming. He was attacked on the way to the port and we escaped.”

“Army?” Ares asked.

“Everybody says there’s a big army on the way,” Saphir replied. “A powerful Lord named Dahak is gonna take over all of Greece.”

“But we’re gonna go join the Army of Ares. We heard that he has all kinds of armies. He has an army of boys just like us,” Jared added. “And we’re gonna go join it and become warriors. Help him save Greece!”

Ares recalled the time that he began to amass a small army of boys. They raided the countryside and generally made trouble. He looked back on that plan with embarrassment, doubled because his half-brother, Hercules, had put an early end to yet another one of his schemes. “What was I thinking?” Ares thought out loud.

“Thinking about what?” asked Saphir.

The dark warrior looked over at the two young faces. “That army of boys had been disbanded.”

“What?” they both said in unison.

“It doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Why?” asked Jared, with a frown of disappointment.

“Poor leadership,” Ares replied sourly.

By the time the evening had passed and the fire had died low, Ares felt well enough to get up and walk around. He went down to the stream and washed his face and chest in the cold water, looking back at the two boys, lying down now to sleep. They had a strange combination of innocence and worldliness that came with a slave’s life. Their short lives had been hard and yet surprisingly sheltered. He was amazed that Ares, God of War, held a central place in their fantasies. It was understandable that young boys would dream of achieving glory and fame through becoming great warriors. The bards told and retold the story of Greek heroes, almost all of them were soldiers. So the figure of Ares, God of Soldiers, was their idol. They saw him as a champion. As he wiped the water off his chest, he wondered how much he fit their grand portrait of him.

He sat back for a moment and closed his eyes, rolling his head from side to side to stretch the aching muscles.

“Hi, sweet cheeks,” said a musical voice, “You’ve looked better.”

Ares started and looked around to see Aphrodite lying on a fallen tree nearby, draped in a sultry pose. He stood up slowly, groaning at the effort. “I hope you’re not being inconvenienced by the end of civilization as we know it,” he said, as he came and stood over her, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Now, sweetie, don’t get all twisted up on me,” she said smiling and rising up to sit on the log. She patted the space next to her and he sat down. “All of Olympus is simply aflutter over this Dahak thing,” she said. “Daddy is calling for a Council of the Twelve.” She looked over at him and pushed out her lower lip. “Well, ten now, what with Mother falling down a well and you in your ... delicate condition.” Then she smiled, looking almost sympathetic and went on. “Zeus is going to call to the Ancient Ones for help.”

Ares sighed deeply. “Does he even care what happened to me? Is he outraged at my betrayal by Discord, that she robbed me of my godhood?”

Now Aphrodite did look sympathetic. “Not really. He’s more afraid that Olympus will be overthrown. You did try to make a deal with Dahak yourself. He’s not too pleased with you right now. He feels you deserve whatever you get.”

The War God laughed sadly. “I keep running into that. I must be careful what I say,” he said, sighing. He shook his head then he looked over at her, now grim. “I’m in this by myself, aren’t I?”

She ran her fingers through his black hair, pushing it away from his face. “I’m not even supposed to be here, big boy, but we all make mistakes and besides, you are such a cool dresser. I hate to leave you out here all by your little self,” she answered.

Ares laughed again. “You want to help me? What prompts this uncharacteristic show of filial affection?”

The blond goddess cocked her head to one side, looking at her sibling pensively. “I think there’s more going on with you than little ol’ Olympus is in on,” she said. “You’re just not the bad boy you used to be. You’ve changed.”

“We’ve all changed,” he answered. He took her hand in his, and looked at the perfect nails, shining slightly in the moonlight. “I used to think that you were just ...”

“Oh, I know what you thought!” she said, giggling. “It didn’t take a goddess to interpret those looks.”

He grinned and shook his head. “But somewhere along the way, you developed a mind, and a sharp one at that,” he added, looking up at her.

“I hope it doesn’t show. It’ll ruin my rep.” She ran her hands through his hair again and then she became serious. “I don’t have much time left. How can I help?”

He smiled at her. “By doing what you do best!”

“Ooo, sex?”

“Uh, no, second best. Fashion,” he answered.

She giggled. “Bitchin’!”

“I need a change of clothes and weapons. Go and get something sturdy from Hephaestus’ armory. You can tell a good fighting sword from an ornamental piece, I hope.”

“Oh, duh!” She vanished and was back in a heartbeat. She waved her hand as she stood before him and he was dressed now in brown leather pants and boots, they were softer than what he was use to and fit him like a glove. He had on a soft shirt of unbleached silk, and over it a vest of suede studded with bronze. Around his waist was a sturdy belt and on it hung a scabbard with a heavy sword.

The Goddess of Love looked critically at her work as Ares stood up. “Hmmm, not a flashy as I’m use to seeing you in, but I think “understated” is the healthier fashion choice here,” she said.

Ares laughed under his breath and drew out the sword. It was plainly adorned but glistened in the moonlight, and was razor sharp. It seemed to hum with a mystic power.

“Beautiful,” Ares whispered reverently, feeling the smooth blade and weighing it in his hand. “Just as if it was made for me.”

“It was,” she said. “Hephie says ‘good luck’. Oh, and here.” She handed him a small knife. It had the same magic feel. “Cupid also sends his regards. Gotta go.” She began to turn away.

“One other favor,” he added quickly. She turned back toward him.

“There are two boys by the fire over there,” he said. “They have this strange notion that the God of War is some hero. They’re young, and have no idea what it is to go into battle but that’s what they want to do. They were planning to go to the Temple of Ares up there to join him in fighting Dahak.”

“They don’t keep up with current events, I take it,” she said, but realized that the joke was poor.

“No, and they don’t know who I am because if they did, that would put them in grave danger.”

Aphrodite nodded sadly.

“Take them to safety,” he said. “That’s all I ask.”

“There is no safe place, big brother,” Aphrodite answered solemnly.

“Anywhere is safer than here,” Ares replied. “Anywhere.”

She nodded and disappeared in a golden mist. By the time he had walked back to the campfire, the boys were gone too. He squatted down by the fire, looking at the place where they had lain. Then he lay down and went to sleep.

Part Eight

Xastet had been correct. The spell did not last long. By the time the two men neared the walls of Galgona, the enemy had awakened and sounded the alarm. Men were already stumbling to their feet to take up arms and pursue the captives. Both men heard arrows whizzing through the air, some landed feet from them as they ran. They could hear the enemy in pursuit.

Hercules looked up onto the walls as he ran. He saw a familiar face and his heart leapt. “Lessa, it’s Hercules and Iolaus! Open the gates!” he called, out as he ran. He saw the figure disappear and soon the gates opened and Lessa and an armed contingent of Amazons streamed out to surround and cover them as they ran for safety. The cats skittered in behind them, and Amazon sentries closed the gates as just as javelins tore into the wood of the entrance.

Hercules laughed as he heard the gate shut. He looked over at Iolaus and they both gave a whoop of relieved joy as they were surrounded now by Forum members greeting him with hugs. Chantal embraced the blond warrior, then came over to Hercules as he hugged and kissed Lessa and Hygea.

“We heard you were ill,” Chantal said. The others nodded. “Did Calee and her warriors find you?”

“It’s a long story,” Hercules replied, squeezing friend after friend as more of the sister soldiers surrounded him. “Yes, they found me and were of great help. They accompanied us back, but our party was separated at the pass when we were attacked.”

“The four Amazons with us retreated back over the pass. They’ll probably head back and get help,” Iolaus added, as he slid his arm around Bwell’s waist and gave her a hug. “Xena and Gabrielle were with us for a while, but they’ve gone south to start building a defense against the forces that have gone it that direction.”

Murmurs of concern went through the Amazons.

“We saw the size of the force but we had no idea that they split up,” Bwell said. “They went south, you say?”

“Yes,” Hercules replied. “I think the Amazon’s territory is still safe.”

“Thank the Gods,” Klio said.

Kendaa came through the throng, smiling. The two men greeted her. “It’s good to see you, my friends. We feared the worst,” she said as she embraced the tall warrior.

“Oh, and Lady Pegasus found us too!” Iolaus added, remembering the winged warrior left behind. “She’s been injured so we had to leave her with Jason. She’ll probably be coming back as soon as she gets well.”

“With an army, I hope,” Lessa said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sure my brother will come with help,” Hercules said. “He’s aware of what’s going on and the involvement of Dahak.”

“We’ve heard the battle cry,” said Kendaa. “We also fear that Ares has lost his sword.”

Hercules looked off for a moment. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry about that. That weapon is a curse.” He knew that he and Kendaa would differ on this point. S

trangely she nodded. “There are times when I would say you are right, but his sword gives him his immortality so if he has lost it, he’s vulnerable.”

“For all we know, he may have given it voluntarily to Dahak. He tried once to make a deal with the demon, he may be trying again,” Iolaus answered.

Kendaa frowned and sighed. It was hard for these men to understand what she did about the God of War. To them and to the world, based on what he had been in the past, that possibility might seem likely; but she knew that he would never do that now. She only shook her head. “I doubt it.”

“Discord is behind all this,” Hercules explained as the Forum members around him talked amongst themselves and listened to the news. “She’s helping Dahak.”

“But why is the main force here?” Tedras said, coming through the crowd.

Hercules smiled and greeted her with a gentle hug, then he frowned as he looked down at the demure Amazon. “You don’t look well,” he said quietly.

“I’m not well. Many of us are ill,” she replied. “It’s this place, it’s evil.”

Hygea had been standing apart from the group. She had retreated to a distance to let others say their greetings to the two men, and she felt also that she needed the space. The crowd was bothering her which was unlike her. She had been listening as the heroes told what they knew and gathered what little information that the Amazons had. When Tedras spoke, her voices became clear for one instant and then were silent. She had not heard silence for a long time and at first the experience was unnerving. She thought about what the voices had said before they left. “It is this place.”

“It is this place,” she repeated out loud.

Valiance was standing next to her and turned to see her staring off. “What?” asked the tall woman to her companion-in-arms.

Hygea continued to stare with the same far-off look. “It is this place,” she said again, and then collapsed. Valiance caught her as she went down and laid her gently on the ground. By this time, others had seen the incident and were gathering round.

“What happened?”Calico said, kneeling down beside Hygea. She stroked the woman’s face and turned to a nearby Amazon. “Get her some water,” she commanded. The sister soldier brought a canteen. Calico gave her a sip and then poured some into her hand, rubbing it over Hygea’s face. “Let’s get her inside.”

Hercules took the woman in his arms as the group headed into the nearest building. It was an inn that had been converted into barracks. Amazons inside broke off from what they were doing to inquire about the injured woman.

Valiance stood at the end of the bed while Calico took off the woman’s armor and put a blanket over her. “She said ‘it is this place.’ right after Tedras said it. Then she fainted,” Valiance related.

“That’s what I have been trying to tell you,” Tedras said. “There’s something wrong with this place.”

“Agreed,” Kendaa spoke up. “Look around. Look at how little grows here. It’s like this place is cursed.”

“Maybe that’s why Dahak wants it,” Hercules answered. “If the main body of his army is here, it’s because of this place. Somehow it’s important and we need to find out why.”

“Well, where’s furball and her alley cat sister?” Iolaus said, looking around for the cat. He headed outside to find the sorceress cat.

“Waart came with you?” Calico asked. “Excellent, we could use her help!”

“And Xastet? Did you say her sister was with her?” Kendaa asked. “Good, we haven’t seen her in an age.”

“Yes, they helped up escape,” Hercules said. He smiled as Hygea began to awaken. She smiled back and tried to sit up, but he put his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. “You just take it easy, all right?”

She lay back down, nodding weakly.

The group went on talking until Calico looked up toward the door and gasped.

There in the door stood Iolaus, his face solemn. In his arms was draped the limp form of the tabby cat. “She’s dead,” he said quietly. “They’re both dead.”

Part Nine

Discord paced around the floor, stamping her feet and cursing. “We need to go after him NOW!” she screamed at the spider that sat patiently on the throne of the War God. “And when I find him I will make him suffer so much that he will beg me to kill him, BEG ME!”

The creature laughed softly. “Your viciousness amuses me, my child,” it said quietly. “But he is really unimportant. We will find him later ... he cannot get far. He is almost mortal now. His powers are limited. Let him run for safety and hide. We have more important things to attend to.” The spider stood up and jumped off the throne, crawling down the stairs toward the goddess. “You must take that city!” he commanded. “That will give us the power we need to affect our will in this world.” He sat down in the middle of the War God’s seal that emblazoned the floor. “The gods of Olympus will call on my brothers and sisters soon. They may just come but I doubt it. They have gone on to far planes and left this plane unattended.”

Discord had been continuing to pace. She whirled around and glared at the spider. “Bastet is here,” she said angrily. “She probably helped Hercules and Iolaus escape!”

“Bastet was once a great warrior,” the spider explained. “But now she takes that ridiculous form and preaches the way of peace. She will never help Ares. He is far too entrenched in the darkness for her delicate tastes. No, she will not help him. And she did not help Hercules escape, that was the work of another.”

“Who?” asked the goddess. “I felt something interfere with my spell but I couldn’t make it out fully.”

“Hmm, perhaps I have underestimated your powers,” the spider replied.

Discord blanched. “I need your training. I will do anything to serve you, my Lord.”

“There are a pair of sorceresses that aid the Amazons from time to time. One of them even lives among them. I doubt they are aware of her past.” He laughed softly. “It is these two that helped Hercules and his friend escape. Fortunately, they followed the two Greeks into Galgona. The dark powers there are taking care of the problem. Soon they will be mine.”

He began to crawl back up the stairs and onto the throne. “Now I wait. The siege of Galgona must come to an end soon. You must attend to this.” He sat down and closed his eyes. Discord cursed again and went to the foot of the stairs. She sat down on the lowest stair, and crossed her arms, pursing her lips in thought. Perhaps while Dahak waited she could reach out for with her senses for just a moment and locate Ares. She smiled and sat back closing her eyes and focusing on the object of her search. Suddenly, a surge of pain went through her and she cried out, rolling onto the floor. She looked up to see the spider standing on the step just above her. Its red eyes were focused on her.

“I said, we will not look for Ares at this time,” said the creature. “If you disobey me again, I will send you to join Strife in oblivion.”

She sat up, trembling slightly at his threat. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?” he asked.

“Yes, ... master,” she replied, avoiding the strange gaze.

Iphicles took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. “This bickering is pointless. I want to help my brother more than any of you, but we are fools to fight amongst ourselves as to who will get there first and help him,” he said as he sat looking down the table at the host of princes and generals that were assembled. “If we don’t plan this campaign well, those forces will be able to take on our separate armies and win. Please, I ask you all to come together on this.”

“Athenians and Spartans, side by side in battle! It will never happen,” said the leading general from Sparta. “If we are not chosen to lead this assault, then I will take my troops and start out in the morning without you. We need no reinforcements.” He sneered the last word and looked around at the others with contempt.

Other leaders now began to shout. Cassopeia was standing behind Jason as he sat on Iphicles’ right. She began to hum an old Amazon marching tune and the shouting faded and men sat down, looking slightly embarrassed at their behavior.

“We have seen this army,” Lady Pegasus said, coming up from the back of the hall to stand at the table. “It is formidable and is growing everyday. Word reaches us now that it has split in two and one marches toward the sea. You must elect a leader and move, and you must march together. There is no time to argue about all this.”

“Why should we listen to an Amazon?” said the general from Athens. “War is the occupation of men.”

“I would agree with you on that,” Laurissa said. She had been standing behind Iphicles’ seat, listening, “since war is and always has been stupid and pointless. However, despite that fact, the Amazons have trained themselves to be warriors just for occasions such as this, a threat from without.” Calee and BonaDea also stood behind the King of Corinth.

The Amazons had ridden all day and night to be able to return to Thebes. There they had joined Jason and Lady Pegasus, and ridden again until sunrise to get to Corinth. Iphicles had already sent word of the invasion to the city-states of Greece and had asked all the leaders to assemble with him and plan for the campaign against the army of Dahak.

The generals were a proud and contentious lot and Iphicles had had his hands full in placating and shaming them into cooperating. Cassopeia’s voice had more than once averted a war within the walls of the palace as everyone argued on and on. It seemed hopeless before the Amazons had arrived and no less hopeless now as Iphicles stood drumming his fingers on the table and biting his lip to keep from cursing.

“Let us at least choose a leader,” he said, quelling the bickering.

“And I suppose you think it should be you, just because you are the brother of Hercules!” said the prince from Parthena.

“Actually, no I don’t think it should be me,” Iphicles replied sharply. “I have no experience with a campaign of this magnitude. I was thinking it should be ...”

“It is going to be me,” said a woman’s voice from the back of the hall. There stood Xena with Gabrielle at her side. “And there will be no further arguing.”

“What makes you think we’ll follow you,” said the Athenian general. “You’re an outlaw. Yes, you once commanded a great army. You even helped my own troops out in an outlying post. But this is far bigger than even you have ever tried.”

The Warrior Princess stepped into the room and walking around the table looking at the leaders who looked back obstinately. Her eyes were cold with anger. Gabrielle looked upset, as if she had been crying.

“Listen to me,” Xena said with a quiet hardness in her voice, “my village is in ruins. My mother is probably dead. Everyone I ever knew before I became the woman you see now is dead or dying. I went south to defend my home and to raise an army, only to find that the force sent from Galgona had already been through there. It had marched to the sea, destroying everything in its path.” Her voice broke momentarily and then she continued. “Drakos tried to resist them. He has ... had one of the best trained and fiercest forces I have ever seen and they are dead. All dead, do you hear me?”

The generals began to whisper amongst themselves.

“Then why go to Galgona at all?” said the Prince of Parthena. “We must stay and defend our own cities. We must hold the line here. Let Hercules help the Galgonians. He’s the son of a god. If a warlord like Drakos couldn’t hold them off, we certainly won’t be able to. We should pull back to our city-states and prepare to defend ourselves.”

The generals began to agree.

“That is exactly what he wants you to do!” Xena shouted. “If we do not combine our strength and meet him there at Galgona, he will pick each one of you off as his army come upon you. We must march now!”

“She’s right,” Jason said. Behind him he heard Cassopiea start humming very softly. “I want three battalions from each of your states and I want them ready to march within the week.” He stood up, and as he did, so did Iphicles.

“My men are ready now,” Iphicles said. “Sparta and Parthena are close, you could have your troops here within two days. The first nine battalions will move out then under Xena’s command.”

“Done,” said the Spartan general. He got up looking confused, as if he had surprised himself by agreeing, then he nodded. “Like Iphicles said, this bickering is pointless. If we want to fight, let’s fight the enemy.”

The others agreed. The strange combination of Xena’s presence and Cassopeia’s calming voice had done what Iphicles could not, bound the group together.

The Parthenian Prince got up. “My men will be ready within two days to march. May the gods be with us.”

“Why?” said Laurissa to Calee as they watched the leaders leave, “they never have before.”

Part Ten

Ares looked down over the valley in the waning light of the day. Below were the plains of Galgona with the invading army surrounding the walled city. His practiced eye took in the situation. It was clearly a siege with little hope of the city inhabitants being able to escape. The army camped outside the city was massive and thousands of campfires burned around the entire perimeter of the city. He had traveled all day to get here and had only to go through the pass below where he stood. Warriors were straggling through the canyon valley below on their way to enlist.

The dark God of War had undergone some further changes. He had torn the sleeves off his shirt and used a strip of the cloth to tie back his black hair. He had also shaved off his beard. He had tried to use what godly powers he had to still the waters of the stream so that he could see how he looked but the powers hadn’t worked. He could only hope that these changes in his appearance would hide his identity so that any warriors who might have seen him before would not recognize him now. He had always suspected that there was a aura of godhood that made the Olympians look inherently different but he did not want to take any chances. If the warriors in Dahak’s army found out who he was, his fate would be sealed.

He looked down at his bronzed arms and flexed his hands. He missed his studded, black leather bracelets. Most of the warrior below wore the adornments but they were more than just military jewelry. The bracelets helped to strengthen the wrists when swinging a heavy sword and could be used to ward off blows. He was at a disadvantage without them and thought idly, as he looked down, on how he might be able to steal a set.

Then he started off down the path to join the rest in enlisting in Dahak’s army.

The new men were met at the outskirts of the camp by soldiers. The troopers spoke a strange language that none of the arriving men including Ares could understand. They talked amongst themselves as they looked at the incoming recruits.

The troopers of Dahak’s army did not have a single uniform, but were dressed in the clothing they had brought with them. The dress of the different men told Ares that they were from many different mercenary armies or renegade bands. Ancient enemy now stood beside enemy as brothers. Spartan and Athenian deserters, Parthenian renegades and outcasts from Drakos’ and Xena’s old troops all stood looking out at them. Ares spotted Amazon renegades among the onlookers. He was surprised to see them mixing with males.

Around each persons’s neck was a plain metal collar with the seal of a spider in the front. As Ares stood with the other new recruits, he could see the bands glowed slightly. It occurred to him that the others around him probably could not see this property in the collars. He surmised that the once that band went on, the man was then “converted” to Dahak’s service. He took a deep breath, wondering what effect the band would have on him, and even more, if it would call his presence to Dahak’s attention.

The new arrivals were led through the ranks of the invaders to a large tent that was positioned in the safest area of the field. They were brought in before a campaign desk where a man sat looking through scrolls and talking to the officers around him. He looked up at the new arrivals.

The leader was a handsome man named Gon. He had a cruel look in his eyes. Ares had seen that look many times and suspected that others had see it in him. The man stood up and came over. There were about thirty new recruits before him. He motioned to them to form lines and they did so quickly and quietly, assembling about an arms length from each other in five rows. He began to inspect each man.

Ares found himself midway in the first line in front of the desk. As he stood at a loose attention, he glanced over at the scrolls on the desk. They appeared to be maps of the city itself and Ares thought he could make out drawings of fortifications. He strained his god sense to see what he could make out when suddenly he was struck across the face from a man who had come up behind him. He raised his elbow to retaliate putting his right fist in his other hand for added delivery of the blow, but the man stood looking at him now. Ares froze and stared at his opponent defiantly, his anger simmering inside him, then the man motioned him to keep his eyes forward, and walked on. Ares turned back to the front and dropped his arms, taking a deep breath and training his eyes to look straight ahead.

There was a crackling sound in the back of the room and the Ares heard Discord’s voice. His heart began to pound and he steeled himself against turning to see if she was looking at him.

“I’m here to find out what progress you have made, Gon,” she said angrily. The man who was in charge went back to her. “Dahak is anxious to get into the city by dusk tomorrow.”

Gon replied something but Ares could not make out the words in the strange language.

“Good,” Discord replied. “Outfit these men, then kill the prisoner tonight.”

Ares took a deep breath, readying himself to draw his sword and fight his way out. Then he heard the crackle of Discord’s departure.

The recruits remained where they had been assembled for another hour. Stiff from standing and hungry after a long day’s march, Ares began to understand the difficult life of the ordinary foot soldier. Each new realization was not lost on the warrior. He had learned a myriad of lessons in the two days that he had been mortal. He wondered why so many of these bits of wisdom had escaped him before. Perhaps, he thought, he had not been ready to learn the truth. He imagined that until Bastet had entered him with her power, he had been unwilling or unable to see what was now so obvious.

While he contemplated this, a large brazier had been brought in and set before the them. In it were the collars in two pieces, white hot on the coals. The men who brought in the collars motioned those before them to take off their shirts. The collars would be put on red hot to test the loyalty of the new warriors. Ares took off his vest and shirt and stepped up to the brazier, silently volunteering to be first.

The soldier before him smiled and motioned Ares to raise up his the tail of hair on the back of his neck and turn to the side. He obeyed. The man then took the two pieces of the collar with tongs. He placed the collar around Ares’ neck and the warrior could feel the heat already burning his skin. He clenched his jaws as the two pieces met and a flash of magic sealed it. The collar was dropped onto him and he flinched as the metal seared his skin. Then in an instant, the metal was cool. Ares exhaled slowly, calming himself.

“There,” said the soldier, “it’s done. Can you understand me?”

Ares looked over at him with a frown. “Yes, I can.”

“Good. You have the look of a leader. Have you lead men in battle?”

Ares smiled slyly. “Once or twice.”

“Excellent. There is unit without an officer. He was killed by the champion of the Amazons, a woman they call Kendaa. The unit is anxious for revenge and needs a leader.”

“That’s the perfect place for me,” Ares said quietly.