Chapter 2

"Well," David mused as he walked along the narrow forest path. "I suppose it was only a matter of time?" His dark eyes surveyed the leaves above his head, watching the sunlight sparking between them. Beside him, his wife, Gabrielle strolled with him, her arm hooked through his. She smiled.

"You're almost sixty, David," she replied, smiling. "You can't expect yourself to be able to keep up with the kids like you used to. You know that?"

David waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not talking about all that. I'm talking about me, in general. My work and all that?"

"Work?" Gabrielle looked up at his wizened face and smiled. "What work? You haven't had a project for months?"

"That's what I mean," David replied. He ran his other hand through his thick mane of graying hair and sighed. "I always knew that Timitus or Salius would eventually steal all my business. I just wasn't expecting them to do it so soon, and so fast?"

"Soon? Fast?" Gabrielle laughed. "David, it's been three months? And you've been fighting them tooth and nail? Never mind that you've been in business for more than twenty years? You deserve to relax now."

"I've been put out to pasture," David grumbled. "Like a worn out plow horse. Good thing we don't have a glue factory around here."

Gabrielle laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder and giving him an encouraging squeeze. A soft smile crept across her lips. "You're not that worn out," she said slyly. "There are still a couple things you do as well as ever."

David laughed. "If I had known that little elixir of Aphrodite's would do what it did, ten years ago, I might have thought twice about it?"

"It was a gift," Gabrielle smiled. "She only meant well?"

"That was what I thought, at first," David smiled.

"And you didn't even think about it?" Gabrielle replied. "You're smarter than that, dear. You knew what she was talking about."

"Fine," David admitted. "I guessed that it was a little something to keep you – how should I say it? Active?"

"That's one way to say it," Gabrielle laughed.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting it to turn you into a dynamo!" David laughed. "Sometimes I wonder how I'll keep up? I wonder if she's planning on dropping by any time soon. I might need to ask her for the Greek equivalent of Viagra?"

Gabrielle laughed out loud and leaned her head against his shoulder again, looking up into his eyes.

He looked down at her and smiled. Despite her age, she was still beautiful to look at. Yes, there were the tell tale wrinkles and the slightly wizened change in her voice, but she was still in remarkably good health. At fifty-five, she could easily pass for ten years younger.

The elixir that he referred to had been a gift from the Goddess on their twentieth wedding anniversary. While David had not had any reason to complain about their relationship, Gabrielle had apparently discussed certain issues with the bubbly Goddess. To that end, Aphrodite had presented her with a small vial of liquid, and suggested that she imbibe the stuff, stating that it would "keep her going." The mixture had been more potent than initially expected, though at the time, David found no reason to complain. Now, five years later, he was beginning to wonder how much longer he would be able to handle Gabrielle's libido.

Granted, it wasn't as if the Goddess had turned his wife into a nymph. That wasn't the issue, but David had begun to suspect that there was a reason why people's sexual drives began to cool as they aged. Granted, their mutual passions had been part of what had kept them together for the last quarter century in the first place. Somehow, in the final analysis, the lack of entropy on the physical side only served to strengthen the already unbreakable bonds formed on other, more important levels.

Besides, from a purely pragmatic point of view, when faced with the inevitability of his own mortality, he could think of worse ways to go.

David chuckled out loud suddenly.

Gabrielle looked up at him and smiled. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking," David said. "Despite all the hazards of living in this time period, you very well could be the death of me?" He sighed theatrically.

Gabrielle laughed and jabbed him in the side.

"At least I'd go with a smile?" David offered.

"You're terrible," Gabrielle laughed.

David threw his arm over her shoulders and held her close as they walked through the trees.

Gabrielle looked up at him and smiled.

Yes, he was passing sixty years of age, and yes, he was beginning to show signs of slowing down, but, like her, he was still in remarkable health considering.

His advanced years had only lent a distinguished look to his rugged features. His eyes were still the deep, clear, thoughtful brown, and his hair, though mostly gray, hung in a long tail between his shoulders.

His modern garments had long ago been lost to the passing of time, and now he favored a simple pair of sturdy boots, brown breeches and a cream colored tunic.

Though he had thinned down somewhat over the years, the loose fitting garment covered a still powerfully built and uncommonly lithe frame. Still, while his musculature was hardly changed, there was a noticeable stiffness in his joints that was apparent in his movements. The prominent scarring covering his left eye was also still visible, a jagged criss crossing of old tissue that bisected the skin over his eye, looking like a four pointed star. He had received the wound just after their first adventure together, in his future world. A world that seemed distant to the both of them now.

Still, whenever she looked into his eyes, she felt that same enchantment, undiminished, even after all the years that had passed. She still saw the wonder in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

"You know," Gabrielle said lightly. "I've been thinking. Why don't we go somewhere special for our anniversary? It's going to be twenty five years, after all. We should celebrate it?"

"What'd you have in mind?" David asked.

Gabrielle shrugged. "I don't know," she mused. "We could head out to Carthedge? Granted, it's a bit of a trip, but I hear that it's still a great place to relax? Alexander and Xena mentioned it, and thought it would be a nice little vacation for all four of us?"

David stopped short and placed a hand next to his ears with theatrical flourish, his mouth open in mock disbelief.

"Dost mine ears deceive me?" he exclaimed. "Is my wife actually contemplating a trip across the ocean?" He began fumbling about, as if searching for pockets on his clothing. "I have to write this down."

"Well, if you don't want to?" Gabrielle retorted.

They came out of the forest and found the road that would take them back into town.

"No, no," David said quickly. "I think it would be great! I remember a paper I read about the ruins at Carthedge, back when I was a student. They're supposed to have a bath house there that's a modern wonder for the times? Might be interesting to see?"

"A paper?" Gabrielle looked at him dubiously. "From when you were a student?"

"Yeah," David nodded. Then his voice trailed off. "Long before we ever met."

They continued down the well worn road that led towards the main gates of Poditea. The two young militia men greeted them politely as the elderly couple passed into the village proper.

There wasn't a person in the village that didn't know David and Gabrielle, or their previous adventures, though some of them had been embellished over the years.

As they entered, they spied Salius, the former innkeeper's eldest son, seated on a sturdy chair outside his modest inn.

"Hi Salius," Gabrielle greeted him pleasantly. "What's happening?"

Salius was a man of moderate size and proportionately built. His hair was a thick, curly brown, almost black, and his dark eyes studied the normal traffic of the village closely.

"Well," He finally sighed. "Looks like business as usual." He smiled and gestured down the nearby street in the direction of the village market. "Or, rather, lack thereof. Since they moved the market down there, my traffic has slowed down a bit, so at present, not too much happening. You two hungry?"

"I could go for a bite?" David nodded, looking down at his wife. "Hungry?"

Gabrielle shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

The inn was a large brick and wood structure, more or less in what was now considered the old center of the town. As they approached, David noted the recent repairs to the front and the recently added out door eating garden beneath a large thatched roof, surrounded by a low wooden fence. He nodded approvingly. "You two have been busy."

Salius smiled proudly. "Like it? Timitus came up with the idea of having the extra seats outside during the warm months."

"Very nice," Gabrielle smiled. "I say we eat outside?"

"Works for me," David agreed.

They seated themselves at a small table, and watched idly as people went by, going about the various activities of daily life.

"I'll let Timitus know you're here," Salius offered. "Wine?"

They both nodded.

"I'll have some of the old Amazon whiskey, if you don't mind?" David replied easily.

"David," Gabrielle cautioned him. "You know that stuff doesn't agree with you any more?"

Salius smiled knowingly and a soft chuckle escaped him.

David gave him a pointed look and then sat back. "I allow one drink a month," he said.

Gabrielle looked at him sternly, her elbows resting on the table.

David merely folded his arms across his chest and matched her critical stare with a stubborn one of his own.

"Fine," Gabrielle relented after a few seconds. She looked up at Salius. "Just mix it with some water, please?"

"What?" David protested. "You can't water that stuff down? That's sacrilegious!"

Again, those emerald eyes fixed on him. Finally, she sighed.

"Fine," she raised a finger in his direction. "But I don't want to hear you complaining later, when you spend an hour in the bathroom?"

Salius snorted as his laugh escaped. "I'll be right back."

When he got to the door, he looked over at Gabrielle and motioned that he would add some water to the caustic drink. Gabrielle smiled sweetly and nodded, and then she turned back to David. He was staring out past her into the street, lost in his thoughts as he absently fished out his pipe and began filling it with tobacco.

"I hear wheels turning?" she offered.

David blinked. "Hm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking."

"I know," Gabrielle smiled. "What about?"

David watched as several more patrons entered the establishment.

"Just about how much everything has changed in the last twenty five years, you know?" David replied, musing.

"It has changed a lot, hasn't it?" Gabrielle agreed. She smiled at him, and saw something dark in his face that told her his thoughts were not just pleasant memories.

"And?" she continued.

David frowned. "I don't know. I just remember some of the preliminary reports I read on this place. You know, before I came to Greece and figured out how to get back to you? Something about those reports makes all of this a little hinky."

David sighed and lit his pipe as his eyes scanned the surrounding area closely. Two thousand years from now, this place would be nothing more than a series of ancient foundation walls, unearthed in an archeological expedition. There would be very little left for them to see.

"Hinky?" Gabrielle repeated, smiling. "What's 'hinky'?"

"Strange, weird, off," David explained. "You know? Hinky?"

"Oh yeah," Gabrielle nodded. "That makes everything perfectly clear." She laughed. "After all this time, you still manage to occasionally throw one of your modern expressions out and confuse me."

David smiled absently as he tried desperately to recall the summary written about the site of the village, all those years ago. He could see the paper. He could even tell what font the damn thing had been typed up in. He just couldn't remember the damn words.

Salius emerged from the inn bearing three mugs. He set them down upon the table and took a seat.

David gratefully took his drink. The worrisome report was once again filed in the back of his mind. He could spend some time at home, trying to recall it when he had a bit of peace and quiet. He took a small swallow, and immediately coughed in surprise.

"Hey!" He protested. "What did you do to this?"

He sniffed the contents cautiously and his eyes went wide in a mixture of surprise and revulsion. He tossed the offending mug to the ground. His eyes went wide when he saw the liquid splash upon the packed ground.

"What?" Gabrielle asked.

David's eyes were fixed upon the stain in growing horror. The stain spreading on the ground was the deep, brilliant crimson of blood. Even when he knew that the contents of the mug had emptied, the stain continued to spread with unnatural speed, covering a large patch near their table. He shifted his feet away as the dark pool oozed a bit too close for comfort.

"David?" Salius asked, looking down at the spilled alcohol in confusion. "What's the matter?"

David looked up at them and then back at the spreading blood on the ground.

"That!" he pointed. "Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?"

Frowning, Gabrielle rose and peered over the table at the spilled drink, frowning.

Salius picked up the mug, apparently oblivious to the small lake of blood his feet were standing in. He sniffed before looking back at the two of them. "I don't understand?"

Gabrielle looked at the genuinely horrified expression on David's face, and then back down at the alcohol soaking into the dirt. The realization crept over her.

"What are you seeing, David?" she asked knowingly.

David looked at the stain and then at his wife. "You're saying you don't see that?"

"I agree that the stuff is bad," Salius offered. He set the bloody mug back on the table, and David watched in horror as it seemed to refill and begin to overflow onto the table in front of them. "But I've never seen you toss it away like that?"

David jumped to his feet and took several steps back from the gory fount as it covered the table and began pouring to the ground.

"David?" Gabrielle asked evenly. The sound of her voice snapped his rapture and he looked down at her, seated at the table, her expression one of growing concern.

David looked back at the table, and then down at the spill. This time, it was only that, a small stain of discarded alcohol, sinking into the earth. The flood of red was gone. He shuddered.

"Blood," he said in a mute voice. "I saw and tasted blood."

"Blood!" Salius exclaimed.

"Salius," David asked urgently. "When did Timitus get this batch? How long ago?"

Salius thought for a moment. "Just last month. Why?"

David looked at Gabrielle, his expression was a mask of dread.

"What is it?" Gabrielle asked.

"Something's happened," David said in a haunted voice. "Something horrible!"

"What are you talking about?" Gabrielle asked.

Then David felt it. A cold, life wrenching sensation that seemed to slice right through his gut. He gasped in shock and almost fell back.

Salius and Gabrielle helped him back into a seat, his eyes staring straight ahead in mute shock.

His wife knelt before him, her eyes searching his.

"My God," David whispered.

"Honey?" Gabrielle asked, her hand resting against his cheek. "Please, talk to me?"

David looked into her eyes. "Alia," he whispered. "And the other Amazons. I think they're dead?"

She dare not move. That was the first thing she realized. It wasn't from lack of courage. It was because she knew nothing could be done. She blinked and wiped away the stray blood that was dripping into her eye as she crouched in the boughs of the tree and looked on in horror.

Thick smoke rose from numerous fires, and the stench of death and burning corpses floated upon the wind. The village was gone, razed to the ground, and her sisters lay scattered on the forest floor.

Dark robed figures moved through the dead and injured, the latter, they finished off wherever they found them. The screams of the dying echoed in her ears.

Antonia's right hand was tucked into her shirt, the limb was blood soaked and hung useless. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she nearly fell from her place of concealment in the boughs of the tree. The screams of her dying sisters brought her back. Then she spied a single figure moving through the carnage with total detachment. Here and there, it would lift one of the dead and examine her face, as if searching for one particular person. The figure had long golden hair and carried a simple Amazon fighting staff in her right hand. She wore a simple green halter, dark skirt, and sturdy dark boots. But this woman was no Amazon.

Two robed figures emerged from the queens' hut, dragging a bound Alia between them. They shoved her to the ground before this stranger and stood back, waiting.

The strange woman turned to face them, and Antonia's jaw fell open in horror and disbelief.

As quietly as she could, Antonia moved from tree to tree, seeking to escape the massacre.

Alia coughed, forcing the pain down. Her eyes took in the death and destruction around her. The bodies of her sisters lay scattered about the clearing, many with eyes still staring blankly into the sun.

A pair of simple boots stopped in front of her and, forcing the pain aside, she turned her face upward.

"You are the queen?" a cold, yet familiar voice asked.

Alia's eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the face of her inquisitor.

"Gabrielle?" She stammered.

The young woman smiled a smile that might have appealed to a viper. "Not exactly, but that proves you know my mother."

Alia's mouth fell open, and terror flooded over her heart like a cold wave.

"Hope!" she breathed.

Again, that crocodile smile spread as she knelt down in front of the fallen queen. "You know of me?"

Alia nodded. "I've heard a few things." She managed to gasp. "Nothing good. You're supposed to be dead?"

Hope stooped and picked up a discarded dagger. She looked at the Amazon Queen, as if studying her.

"There's something different about you," she commented, almost as if she were voicing a private thought.

Another pale, robed figure stepped up behind her.

"It is done," he reported.

Hope smiled and nodded once, dismissing the priest. Then she turned her cold green eyes on Alia.

"What is it?" she asked. She looked into the other woman's eyes, her entire face filled with almost childish curiosity. "What's hiding behind those lovely eyes of yours?"

Alia managed a grim smile. The inevitability of what was to come settled down upon her like a cold stone. "Just wondering if I could have a drink before we got started?"

Hope smiled coldly, her eyes drifting down to the small flask in the Amazon Queen's belt. She pulled the silver container free and popped the top, sniffing curiously. She smelled the strong alcohol, but that was all.

"Why not," she agreed, and she tipped the flask in the prisoner's mouth.

Alia took a swallow and felt the burn descend through her throat. Then she took another swallow and held it in her mouth as Hope pulled the flask away. Her eyes closed tightly, as if she were gathering some internal strength.

"Better?" Hope asked.

Alia nodded and spit the second mouthful on the ground.

"Neste Sequinte," Alia whispered, her eyes opened wide, staring up into the sun.

Instantly, Hope felt the power burst from the prisoner, like a rapidly expanding bubble. The energy itself did her no harm, but the intent of the spell was clear. This Amazon Queen had sent out a message!

She tossed the flask away and took Alia's face in her hand.

"That was a foolish thing to do!" she hissed.

Alia smiled triumphantly. "Let's just get this over with, you worthless little shit!"

Hope's cold eyes went hard, and she nodded her head.

"As you like."

Alia gasped as the dagger sliced across her belly.

"Tell me?" Hope asked. "What's my mother been up to?"

Alia looked down at the wound. It was not deep enough to disembowel her. Just enough to cause excruciating pain. She looked back up into those cold eyes and understood that the torture she was about to receive would be the same for her friends.

"Go fuck yourself!" she hissed.

Hope smiled knowingly.

"You have spirit," she smiled. "Even I can respect that. You're hoping that I'll lose patience and kill you quickly?"

Then she looked up at the two priests on either side of the prisoner.

"Tie her up," she ordered. She watched as the two priests bound Alia's wrists and hoisted her to her feet against a broken wall.

Hope stepped up to her and smiled. "Much better," she said. "Now, you were saying?"

She slashed the blade across her belly again.

Alia winced in agony, but didn't scream. When she looked back at her tormentor, her eyes blazed.

"Go fuck yourself!" she hissed again.

Antonia stumbled out of the forest and onto the familiar field that marked the beginning of Rasten's farmstead. Her limbs were leaden and her vision was blurred, but she could see the small home, very close. She half ran, half staggered across the tilled field towards the home, praying that her lover would see her through the window and come to her aid.

She made it to the door and found four of the robed priests lying dead just inside.

A fierce smile appeared on her lips as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Way to go, love," she thought. She stumbled into the back room and stopped short. There, lying on the floor beneath a fifth fallen priest was her lover, Rasten. A dagger protruded from his chest while another was lodged in the back of his attacker.

She pulled the corpse off Rasten and dropped to his side, her fingers running through his hair as the tears stung her eyes worse than the blood from earlier. She bent over him, kissing his cheek and sobbing in despair. As the grief washed over her, her eyes drifted to the open window and she saw the fires of Tripolis burning in the setting sun. The entire village was ablaze, but that wasn't the most frightening thing about it. Horror filled her soul when she heard nothing but the crackle of the hungry flames as they consumed the village. No cries of fear, or pain, no figures moving to escape. Everything was silent. The odor of burning bodies filled the air with its charnel stench.

Her grief vanished in that terrible moment.

"I have to get away from here," she realized. "I have to warn someone! I have to find David and Gabrielle!"

She looked back down at Rasten and closed his eyes.

"I gotta go now," she whispered. Gathering her strength, she rose and turned away, collecting a few things to tend her injuries once she was clear of the massacre, then she headed for the door.

A single figure stood in the main room, clothed in the dark robes of the attackers. In one pale hand, he held Rasten's quiver of arrows, but no bow.

Grim reality found its way through the pain and the despair, and her eyes narrowed in rage. All of her weariness fell away.

With a cry of pure fury, she charged the intruder.

He merely raised his hand and flicked a finger in her direction. One of Rasten's arrows exploded from the quiver and struck her in the abdomen. The force of the shot sent her reeling back against the wall, her eyes wide with shock.

The priests face was unreadable, impassive and cold. His white eyes fixed on her with the same predatory calm of a snake, waiting for its venom to subdue its prey.

Antonia gasped from the pain. "Why?" she asked.

The priest smiled. "It is our way," he said in a voice that was smooth as iced honey.

He flicked his finger again, and this time, all the rest of Rasten's arrows shot across the room and pierced her flesh. She felt them bite into her body, felt them puncture places deep within her. Her final strength seemed to seep from the wounds along with her blood and she slid to the floor, her chest heaving for breath that her punctured lungs would no longer accept. Then, with one final shuddering gasp, her eyes rolled back and she went still.

The priest stood still for a moment, staring down at the dead woman, as if contemplating what he had just witnessed. Then he turned towards the door. Stopping at the threshold, he looked back and pointed at the wooden table in the center of the room. There was a momentary scent of acrid smoke, and the wood crackled into flames.

"It is the way of Dahok," he said, looking at the fallen woman again, and then he vanished back out into the hell that had been Tripolis.