The Spear of Penthesilea by Archaeobard

Prologue

Phrygia - Sack of Troy, c.800 B.C.E.

Ares raged with fury against the walls of Troy as the two figures circled each other on the battlefield. The fair-haired Achilles crouched low as the predatory woman searched for weaknesses in his defence. She was Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons who, having answered the call of Priam, now fought the Greek hero. She stood, ready for the onslaught of the warrior's attack. She parried several blows with her spear with lightening ferocity and agility. Her mighty shield took several hits as she tried to defend herself. Achilles was strong, and favoured by the gods. The Amazon backed away, further from the walls she sought to protect. Pushed to one knee, she struggled vainly to ward off his strikes. Yet with an ease that seemed unnatural, the killing thrust issued from the spear of Achilles. Penthesilea felt the cold bronze enter through her right breast and cleave her lung. The Greek wrenched the spearhead from the stricken Amazon, letting her fall. Penthesilea coughed blood as Achilles reached to remove her helm. Scarlet rivulets ran from her chin, yet she stared defiantly upward at the warrior standing over her.

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Chapter One Athens to Amphipolis - late July 1941

Janice Covington ducked the blow aimed for her jaw. She slammed a fist into her opponent's stomach and finished it with a right upper cut that sent the man sprawling to the ground. She backed away, breathing heavily.

"C'mon Stavros, ya pile o' shit, ya want some more?" she asked motioning the man to rise. She ran the back of her hand over her own bloody lip and jumped aside as the man came hurtling towards her. He came by so fast that he almost knocked himself out on the wall behind Janice.

"Now Stavros, that's just not fair now, is it?" she asked throwing a punch that broke the man's nose. He grunted and fell against the wall, sliding down to land in a heap at Janice's feet.

"Goddamn!" she swore, shaking out her fist, "Anybody else wanna pull that kind of crap with me?" she asked, surveying the bar area. Most of the heads turned her way watching the fight, abruptly turned towards their drinks, "Good. Someone get 'im outta here."

She sauntered over to the bar, taking her previously interrupted position on a stool and slammed a glass down on the counter, "Hit me!" she shouted. A couple of people sniggered. Those words had started the fight with Stavros in the first place. Janice grinned as whisky poured into her glass, "Now that's more like it," she said, downing the drink in one, "Again."

Janice needed to make it back to the Museum at Amphipolis by the next morning. She had absolutely no idea how she was going to manage it, but that was a problem to be dealt with after she was drunk. She was in Athens, and she was feeling fine.

She wasn't feeling so great as she reeled out of the bar several hours later, "Oh Jesus," she groaned, stumbling over to the gutter to relieve herself of the better part of a week's wages in whisky. "Damn I hate that," she said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Sitting down in the gutter a little along the street she tried to make sense of the hands of her pocket watch, "Only nine, still early. God I feel like shit," she sighed, wishing she had a drink to wash the taste of vomit from her mouth. She had to get to the bus station and get a ride to Amphipolis. Rising shakily to her feet she hailed a cab. Several cars passed her by until one stopped.

"Well it's about bloody time," she snapped, piling herself into the back seat. She managed to make it to the bus station without being sick again.

"Hey!" the driver shouted, holding his hand out for the fare. Janice shoved some money at him and staggered over to the first bus she saw.

"Amphipolis," she groaned at the man sitting on the first step smoking a cigarette. He reeled slightly at Janice's booze soaked, vomit smelling breath and sent the woman down the line of buses. Weaving her way to the right bus she tried to buy her way on.

The driver took one look at her dishevelled, drunken appearance and shook his head.

"Whaddaya mean no?" asked Janice, holding onto the side of the bus for support. "I gotta get back. Do ya know who I am?" she asked, trying to stand straight and failing miserably.

"Don't care. You can't get on this bus like that."

"Lemme on the bus!" Janice tried to push her way through the man, only ending up on the ground as she tripped on the curb.

"Fuck!" she swore, rubbing a knee and trying to look up at the man with what she hoped were pleading eyes.

"It's alright driver, I'll take care of her," said a voice from behind.

"You know this...woman?" asked the driver to the voice.

"I have no idea who she is, but it sure looks like she could use a little help, don't y'all agree?" the voice said sweetly.

The driver frowned, "It's not policy to take drunks on board miss."

"Now you just let me worry about that," the voice held out a wad of American dollars. The driver's eyes lit up and he licked his lips, eyeing the green backs.

"Well, I suppose..." the man said greedily, snatching the money.

"That's settled then," the voice bent down towards Janice and suddenly became a pair of the most glorious blue eyes she had ever seen, even if they were obscured by glasses, "C'mon honey, let's get you up shall we?" She dragged Janice to her feet and slung an arm around her waist while draping one of Janice's arms over her shoulder, "There we go," she glared at the driver until he allowed them on the bus.

The voice that had become the eyes managed to get Janice up the stairs and into a seat by a window. Janice sat back, breathing shallowly as the eyes sat next to her. They turned to look her up and down, "You've sure done yourself in missy."

Janice turned her drunken gaze to the woman who had rescued her, noting the high cheekbones, aquiline nose and full lips. She smiled crookedly before passing out.

"The runner has returned little one..." the eerily spoken words dragged Janice from her drink induced slumber.

She grunted, surfacing to reality, "Oh God..." she moaned, hauling herself up on the seat. What had awoken her? The bus lurched to a stop and Janice swore as she was thrown forward in the seat. Managing to peel her tongue off the roof of her mouth with difficulty, she turned her bleary eyes on to the figure next to her and blinked several times to clear her vision.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked finally.

"Well, I - "

"Oh God, lemme out, lemme out!" Janice was struggling to get over the woman's long legs. Busting through a few people in the aisle she exploded on to the pavement outside. She looked about desperately until she spied what she was looking for. She bolted towards the toilet block and dashed inside.

After experiencing an episode of something that felt like it came from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Janice Covington sat, shaking hands on her knees, "That was close," she mumbled, "Goddamn cheap whisky!"

"Hello? Hello, Miss? Are you in here?"

"Go away," Janice grated, mortified that the woman had come after her in the can.

"Are you alright?"

"Go away!" Who did this woman think she was?

"I just wanted to see if you needed a ride anywhere."

"Go away!" Didn't this woman know when to stop? "Well, alright, as long as ya'll going to be okay now."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ! Will...you...go...away!" Janice screamed at the top of her lungs.

Janice heard a faint 'oh my!' and then silence. She hoped the woman was gone. She sat there for a few more minutes gathering the strength needed to stand and pull up her trousers. After a few attempts she managed to get her belt buckled. She flushed the toilet, sending the vile substance she had created...somewhere... else, and opened the door to the cubicle a crack. No crazy woman. Janice sighed in relief and went to wash her hands. Some dirty brown water dribbled out of the tap, but it was better than nothing. Running her damp hands through her hair to dry them she scrutinised her shocking appearance in the mirror before dragging herself back outside.

"I have a car," was the first thing she heard as she left the building. Janice whirled towards the voice, sending a wave of dizziness over her. She stumbled slightly before righting herself.

"Look lady, I don't know who you are, and I don't care. I've got my own car, its right over there," she said, indicating a beaten up truck. "I've got a lotta things to do today, so if you just leave me alone, I might be able to do some of them," with that, she sauntered over as best she could to her truck.

"My! What a rude woman!" Janice heard as she walked away.

"You bet yer ass sweetheart," she replied over her shoulder.

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Chapter 2

Janice sat behind the wheel of her truck. The woman hadn't come after her thank God. She fumbled for the keys and gunned the engine. Her head felt swimmy, but she guessed she could drive. Pulling out of the parking lot at the bus station she turned for home. She figured she had a couple of hours to get herself cleaned up before heading into the museum.

"My God, what corpse died and left you its body?" Janice heard as she walked into the secretary's office outside hers.

"Save it Ida, I'm not in the mood," she said, not impolitely. Ida was forty-something, but could have been twenty if judged by her attitude, with a shock of black hair, not yet greying, although Janice had her doubts about it. Few lines marked her face, and her eyes continually danced with mischief. She was fifth generation Australian, tough as a lump of gristle and probably the only person alive who could deal with Janice Covington. God only knew how she ended up in Amphipolis.

"Well, I just happen to have a bacon and egg roll here that says I can say anything I want," she grinned wickedly.

"You do huh?" asked Janice, mouth watering.

"I do," Ida said, waving something in a brown paper bag teasingly.

"Okay, it was a bar in Athens," Janice said, reaching for the bag.

Ida shook her head, handing her the prize, "Ya gotta learn to look after yourself darl'."

Janice ripped open the bag and started shoving the contents into her mouth, "Jesus this is good," she said between mouthfuls.

Ida sighed, leaning back in her chair, "So Dr. Covington, was it Jack or Johnnie this time?"

"Don't know, but it was something," Janice had finished the roll in record time and was busy licking the grease from her fingers. She screwed up the bag and tossed it towards a waiting trash can, "We got any coffee?"

"We always have coffee, you know you don't let the monthly requests go to the bloody purchase department until you've seen it has coffee, and loads of it, written down," Ida smirked.

"Just checking," Janice walked over to the kitchenette off the side of Ida's office and made herself a cup, "You want one?" she called out behind her.

"Nah, I'm right."

"Sure," Janice returned shortly and sat down opposite Ida's desk, sipping the steaming brew, "So, what's on the agenda for today?"

"I think you've killed too many brain cells Janice. Melinda Pappas is coming for her interview about the translating job remember?"

"Oh yeah. Her father knew my father right?"

"That'd be the one."

"Well, she can't be too bad then can she?" she took another sip of her coffee.

"I suppose that depends on your definition of 'too bad'."

"I mean she's not a freak or anything is she? She still has all her teeth and doesn't look like Frankenstein's monster. That type of 'too bad'," Janice finished with a grin, but a puzzled frown crossed her face when she noted Ida's jaw drop at something over her shoulder.

"No, she certainly doesn't look like Frankenstein's monster, but can't judge for her teeth. I won't be able to tell until she smiles."

Janice spun in her chair and dropped her coffee in her lap.

"Shit!" she screamed, jumping up and desperately trying to get the burning liquid off her, "Ow, ow, ow!" she danced around until suddenly struck with the bright idea of dropping her pants. She ripped them down but they were stopped just below her knees by her boot tops, "God that hurt!" she blurted.

Ida couldn't help but laugh. Janice took one glance at her, a glance at the tall woman leaning against the door frame as if she wanted to collapse and a glance at her pants before she hurriedly bent to pick them up from around her knees. Holding them together at her waist, she wanted to melt into the floor.

"Dr. Janice Covington, meet Melinda Pappas," Ida said between breaks in her laughter.

"We've already met," growled Janice between clenched teeth.

"Uh, but we haven't been properly...introduced," said the woman, managing to push herself across the room. She held out a hand to Janice politely.

Janice grimaced and went to take the proffered hand. Just as she grasped it she felt her trousers slip and struggled to keep the wet fabric up with one hand.

"Melinda is it?" she asked, pumping the hand, "Will you ... excuse me... for a moment?" Janice tried to smile, but it came out like a feral snarl. Dropping the hand she dashed for her office, closing the door behind her, she could still hear Ida's laughter.

"Jesus H. Christ!" she whispered as she lent up against the door, "The crazy woman who came after me in the can! Waddam I gonna do with this one?" she asked. Steeling herself, she located a box of tissues and tried vainly to dry herself off. Half a box later, she gave up. Thinking 'what the hell', she took off her boots and removed the soaked trousers, hanging them on the back of a chair by her open window. They'd dry soon enough. She glanced about for anything to cover her lower half. Unable to find a thing that would do, she finally settled for sitting behind her big desk.

After a few moments she reached for a cigarillo out of the box on her desk and lit it. She puffed contentedly for a minute before reaching for her internal phone, "You can send her in now Ida," she said.

The door cracked open slightly, and a hesitant head popped around.

"Come on in Melinda," Janice said, trying to be civil, "You'll forgive me for not standing, but..." she gestured at the trousers hanging over the chair.

"Oh my!" Melinda gasped as she came into the room, clutching a folder to her chest.

"I'm sorry about the circumstances of our previous meeting, please, take a seat."

"Uh, so am I," she said as she sat gracefully opposite Janice.

"Look, um, I'm not normally like that. It was my day off," Janice tried to apologise lamely.

She saw the woman blush and wondered what the hell she had done.

"It's alright Dr. Covington, I don't usually rescue drunken louts off the street either," Mel said, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

"Drunken lout huh?" a smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh dear!" she raised a hand to her mouth.

"Melinda, it's okay, I've been called worse. If anyone should apologise it's me, I said some pretty terrible things this morning. To tell you the truth, I'm a little embarrassed. Can we just forget it?" Janice asked. She wasn't quite sure how to deal with this woman.

"Embarrassed? You mean to tell me, that you're sitting there in your underwear, about to interview me for a job, and you're embarrassed...for swearing at me?"

"Well, yeah," that was it, Janice laughed, she had to, otherwise she'd cry.

Mel cocked an eyebrow at the eccentricity of the woman before her, "I don't think this was such a good idea," she made as if to rise.

"Whoa, hang on a minute Melinda, where do you think you're going? This interview has not been concluded," Janice held up a hand to try and stop the woman. She sure as hell wasn't going to stand.

"Dr. Covington, I do not know whether your ...approach... is appropriate," Mel stuttered.

"Je-sus, relax would you, it's not like I bite or anything. I had an unfortunate accident, no-one regrets it more than me, so can we just drop the subject...please?"

Since the woman had asked nicely, Mel had no option but to comply. She sighed, resigning herself to whatever was going to happen, "Very well Doctor," she agreed, casting another nervous glance at the trousers blowing in the breeze, before settling herself once again in the chair.

"Good. Perhaps I could look at your resume?" Janice asked pointedly.

"What? Oh my! Of course," Mel pulled the requested item from her folder and held it out to Janice, who just sat there, staring at it before glancing below her desk. "Oh dear!" Mel placed the document on the table so Janice could reach it. What was wrong with her? This situation was rather...unsettling.

"Thank you Melinda," Janice picked up the document and leafed through it. It was quite impressive. The woman spoke about six different languages and read several extinct ones. Janice smirked and looked up the woman sitting opposite her.

"Well Melinda, you have some CV here. Tell me, why would you want to work for Amphipolis Museum? It seems you could get a job just about anywhere."

"I...I don't know Dr. Covington-"

"Please, call me Janice."

"Alright, I don't know, Janice. It's just that I know you are looking for the entirety of the Xena Scrolls, and well my Daddy always was interested in them, just like yours. I guess I wanted to continue the research in my small way."

Janice nodded. She could understand the burning need to fulfil her own father's dreams; there was no reason why Melinda Pappas should feel any different.

"I see, but you know you are over qualified for the position."

"That doesn't bother me."

"I won't be able to pay you the wage you deserve."

Mel smiled, "Daddy didn't exactly leave me in the poor house when he died Janice. I'd probably have taken this job as a volunteer if you were not offering a wage."

That surprised the small archaeologist. Nobody wanted to work for nothing in archaeology unless they were very, very rich and most of them demanded a wage.

"You must be very dedicated to your father's research," she said slowly.

"I am very dedicated to my father's memory Janice, and I have enough of an education to realise that what he and your father began was very important. I don't want to see that lost."

"I agree Melinda," Janice sat back in her chair, puffing on her cigarillo, "Welcome to The Team," she said in an off handed manner.

"Team?"

"Uh-huh, you and me sweetheart, The Team," Janice grinned.

Despite herself, Mel found that she was returning the smile. She'd never been part of a team before, somehow it felt...comforting, even if it was with this, this creature before her.

The Team. Janice and her father had been The Team, but since the untimely death of Harry Covington, The Team consisted solely of Janice. It was kind of lonely. She missed having someone to talk to about the constantly appearing clues concerning the scrolls. While Melinda Pappas seemed the exact opposite of any employee she had envisaged, there was something familiar and decidedly disarming about the tall, dark Southerner.

"C'mon, I'll make you a cup of coffee," Janice said, rising before she could stop herself.

"Oh dear Lord!" was the first warning that something was wrong.

Mentally kicking herself, Janice let out an embarrassed grin," Aw shit Melinda, I'm sorry."

"No, no it's alright, here, take this," Mel said, averting her gaze and stripping off her suit jacket. She passed it to the archaeologist, "Just wrap it around your waist, you might look stupid, but at least you'll be vaguely decent."

"You're too kind," Janice said sarcastically as she took the offered item and wrapped it haphazardly around her hips.

"Much better," Mel replied, "You said something about coffee?"

"Ah, sure," Janice muttered. She could feel Melinda's warmth still on the jacket as the silky smooth lining rubbed against her legs. If she thought about it, she could smell the Southerner's scent drifting up from the fabric. Jesus Covington, you don't want to go there. she thought to herself as she shook her head slightly to dispel wandering thoughts.

"Is something wrong Janice?" Mel asked, a look of concern on her face.

"I'm fine, coffee it is," she said, taking a deep breath and walking to the door ahead of the Southerner. She heard a gasp, followed by stifled laughter, "What now?" she demanded, spinning around.

"I'm sorry Janice, it's just that well, the jacket doesn't go...all the way around," Mel made circling motions with a hand.

Janice felt her backside and groaned. This was not her day. She smiled crookedly and backed out of the door into Ida's office.

"Mm, mm, now that's a sight for sore eyes Dr. Covington."

"Je-sus! Will you guys leave me alone?" Janice said angrily as she flopped down into a chair, "I was going to make Melinda a cup of coffee, but I'm not moving an inch if both of you don't stop hassling me," Janice actually pouted and crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

Ida looked over to the door and winked at Mel who was leaning casually on the frame. She smiled back.

"I take it you got the job then Miss Pappas?"

"That's right, and a little more than I bargained for I suppose."

Ida snorted, "Don't worry, she's harmless really, you just gotta know how to handle her," Ida winked again.

"Hey! Hello? I'm right here; stop talking over the goddamn top of me!"

"Oh, sorry Janice," Ida grinned and reached into the bottom draw of her desk. She pulled out a brown paper packet and set it in front of her. "Now Janice, are you going to behave, or am I going to have to withhold what is in this package?"

Janice looked suspiciously at the woman, "What is it?" she asked.

"Oh no, that would be cheating, wouldn't it Miss Pappas?" Ida quirked an eyebrow in the Southerner's direction.

"Uh, yes, I suppose it would."

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Janice made to grab at the package but her hand was slapped lightly by her secretary.

"Behave Janice," It was kind of like talking to a three-year-old.

"Okay, okay, I'll behave."

"Good, here you go," Ida tossed the package to the woman who promptly ripped it open. It was a pair of pants.

"Ida! You're a star! Where'd you get these?" Janice said, jumping up and pulling the trousers on under Mel's jacket before discarding it.

"Oh, they've been sitting in my desk since the last time you spilled coffee on yourself and had to have them dry cleaned."

Janice stared at the woman, so did Mel, "You mean you've had these sitting in your Goddamn desk the whole time? You made me conduct an interview in my boxers and you had a clean pair of pants out here? Oh God Ida, I don't know why I don't fire your ass."

Ida laughed and Mel was astounded, "You don't fire me because I'm the best bloody secretary you'll find in this shit hole of a town, and probably the only one who'd work for such a stubborn, inconsiderate, rude and self destructive archaeologist. Besides, without me, your life would run completely off the rails and you'd be left up shit creek without a paddle."

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" Janice shouted to the ceiling, throwing her hands in the air, "Did I say something about coffee?" Janice moved off to the kitchenette, flashing a grin at the two women.

"See," muttered Ida to Mel, "You just gotta know how to handle her."

"I heard that."

The three women sat quietly, drinking coffee. Janice glanced at her pocket watch and noted the time.

"How about if I show you the site after this Melinda?" she asked after taking a sip of the rich brew.

"Site?"

"Yeah, the museum is excavating a site about half an hour's drive from here. It's yielded some interesting things so far. I have a feeling that we might get some scrolls out of it if we're lucky."

"You're not directing?"

Janice shook her head, "Only in name, the field director is Dr. Karl de Cardi. I've known him for years and trust him; he does a good job, and I can't be everywhere."

"I see, I've heard of him. I think my father worked with him once."

"Excellent, then you two should get along."

Mel smiled, "Just give me a minute to change will you?" she asked.

Janice blinked until she realised what the Southerner was saying. Of course she had to change, she couldn't go wandering around an archaeological site in a dress suit and heels, and it'd probably get her killed.

"Sure, um, you can use my office."

Mel placed her cup on Ida's desk and headed out to her car; she grabbed a bag and in a couple of minutes was changing in Janice's office. She normally carried a bag of work clothes with her. Although she was not an archaeologist per se, she'd done enough work on her father's sites to know her way around an excavation. Heels were definitely not the deal. She hurriedly pulled on a pair of worn trousers, one of her father's old shirts and a pair of boots that looked like they had seen better days. She pulled out a hat, not dissimilar to Janice's fedora, and shoved it on her head, no sense getting sunstroke. The last item she pulled from her bag was a trowel. It had been her father's, and it was showing its age. Having once been six inches in length, it was now down to four, all from use. It had a slightly lopsided shape, indicating that the user had been right handed. As a work tool Melinda loved it, as her father's, she cherished it. Shoving the item blade upwards in her back pocket, she headed back to Ida's office.

She was greeted by two shocked expressions as she strode into the room.

"What?" she asked, turning to look over her shoulder, no, nothing there.

The transformation was incredible; it was all Janice could do not to rack her gaze up and down the woman before her. She looked as if she had been born in work clothes. Even the trowel in her back pocket seemed a natural accessory for the tall woman.

"Um, good work clothes Mel, ah Melinda," Janice stumbled over the translator's name.

"Why thank you Janice, and Mel is fine. You didn't think I'd change into a safari suit or something did you? I'm sorry, I forgot my pith helmet," she said with a sly smile. That was exactly what the woman would have thought. Mel had no delusions of what people assumed when they first met her. It must have been her accent, or alternatively, she had 'Southern Belle' tattooed across her forehead.

"No!" Janice lied guiltily, "It's just that you look so...different."

"Thank you, I think."

Ida was flicking her gaze back and forth between the two women. Despite their obvious physical differences, they could have been clones as far as their clothes were concerned. She shook her head. Janice had got herself into something, and the secretary hoped she knew what she was doing.

"Why don't you two go check out the site. I'll be here this 'arvo when you get back," she said, trying to jolt Janice out of her stunned expression.

"Yeah, the site, uh, let's go," Janice managed before striding purposefully out the door.

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Chapter Three

Mel endured half an hour of the worst drive she had ever undertaken.

"We could have taken my car, it is a four by four," she said as they neared the site.

"So's this, suspension's gone, clutch plate's just about had it, engine needs an over haul, but she's a pretty good truck all up Mel," Janice said as she felt the gears slip.

"You're kidding me? Must be a miracle it still moves. Hope the brakes are okay."

Her comment was answered as Janice slammed on the brakes beside the work tents of the site. Mel flew forward but managed to catch herself before she cracked open her head on the dash.

"Yeah, but the hand brake's gone," Janice said, jumping out and placing a brick behind a front tyre.

"Should have taken my car," Mel muttered, not relishing the trip back to town.

Dr. Karl de Cardi heard the approach of Janice's truck several minutes before she arrived on site. He shook his head, thinking that it was really about time that the good doctor invested in another vehicle. He pulled himself out of his trench and made his way over to the beaten up wreck Janice called her truck.

"Hello Jan," he said, grabbing the woman in a fierce bear hug.

"Hey Karl, how's the site?" she said, squashed into his chest. The man was a little overbearing at times, built like a brick shit house with the face of Adonis.

Karl grinned, that was Jan, not 'how are you?', but 'how's the site?' He pushed the small woman away from him and looked her sharply in the eye, "She's fine, got something for you Jan," he said slyly, baiting the woman.

"Yeah? Have to show me. By the way, this is Melinda Pappas. She's translating for the museum." Janice indicated Mel as she stepped from the truck.

Karl gave her an appreciative stare before holding out his hand, "Pleased to meet you Melinda, I'm Karl de Cardi. I've worked with your father, great man, sorry for your loss. How are you?"

Mel tried to compute this rapid onslaught of information from the tall, fair-haired, hulk of a man in front of her. "Could be better," she grimaced, casting an irritated glare at the pile of rusting machinery behind her.

Karl laughed, instantly liking the woman, "Well, I said I had something for Jan, but if you're translating, it's really for you."

"A scroll? You have a scroll?" Janice shouted, pushing her way between Mel and Karl.

"Hang on Jan," Karl said, holding his hands up defensively, "no, it's not a scroll, just a piece of parchment, but it does need translating."

"Oh," Janice seemed disappointed.

"But before that, why don't I show you the site?"

Karl spent the next half-hour escorting the two women from trench to trench, describing what they had uncovered so far.

"I see," said Melinda after a lengthy explanation of one of the trenches, "so what you are actually saying, is that this later defensive wall is cutting into the earlier one. Interesting, I wonder what happened?" she mused.

Janice stared at her. It was becoming clear that even though Mel was a translator, she sure knew her practical archaeology.

"What do you mean?" asked Karl.

"Well, it seems that the earlier wall was quite sufficient, what is it, about ten feet across?"

Karl nodded.

"Solid mud brick, thought that would hold up to almost anything. I once saw a four wheel drive plough head long into a third millennium mud brick wall and get written off without causing as much as a dent in the wall. There is no evidence of destruction in this case, so why then did it all change? I mean, why alter the entire fortification? Why get rid of a perfectly good wall, only to build another and add a revetment wall against that. That is a revetment in section isn't it?" Mel asked, eyeing the section curiously.

"I'm sorry?" Karl asked staring at the tall woman in front of him as if he wanted to dive off the side of the section.

"A defensive revetment, built up against the wall. Here, let me show you." Mel said, jumping into the trench and removing her trowel from her back pocket. "May I?" she asked, trowel hovering inches from the section.

Karl nodded his consent and Mel set to work, scraping down a portion of the section. After several minutes she had cleaned the areas she wanted and pointed with her trowel.

"Here, you can clearly see the how this mud brick is abutting the wall, look at the slope, it's uniform, you can even see the mud brick layers if you look closely."

Karl followed her gaze and swore, "Shit, it is a revetment, we thought it was collapse."

Janice was staring at the two figures, "Jesus Karl, look at the thing! Of course it's a revetment," Although Janice had to admit that she probably would have missed it too, it did look remarkably like collapse... unless you looked closely.

"I'm sorry, Janice, I'll change the notes and get a sample from the section. I can't believe I missed that," he hung his head, shaking it slowly. He'd probably just made the biggest mistake of his archaeological career. How could he have supervised the removal of an entire wall?

"Hey, look, it happens to the best of us, you can get the base in plan. Besides, it's only a small portion; the thing probably goes 'round the entire site, right?" Janice said, trying to make the man feel better.

"Sure Jan, whatever you say."

Mel couldn't help but feel bad. She had been trying to prove to Janice that she knew what she was talking about, not humiliate Karl in front of her. She had no idea that the archaeologist had not picked up on the revetment wall. But then, her father always said that she had a talent for excavating

"Ah, Dr. de Cardi? It was hard to spot. I uh, wouldn't have noticed it if I wasn't so intrigued by the other wall," she tried to back pedal as she climbed out of the trench and dusted down her clothes, shoving her trowel in her back pocket.

"It's alright Melinda, as Janice says, it happens to the best of us," he took a deep breath, "Now, I suppose I should show you this parchment," he said as he stalked off to one of the tents.

Janice looked at Mel as she stared after the downhearted archaeologist, "Jesus Mel, how'd you see that?"

"What? Oh," she adjusted her glasses, "I just did, I don't know," she shrugged disarmingly.

"Well, remind me to keep you around okay?"

Mel smiled warmly at Janice, and the small archaeologist would have been floored had she let herself. The smile was pure and genuine with no hint of malice or suspicion as she was used to receiving.

"Despite it all Janice Covington, I think I'm beginning to like you," Mel turned on her heel and followed Karl to a tent.

"Beginning to...Hey! Wait up!" Janice called and ran after the woman.

"We found this yesterday," Karl was saying to Mel as Janice entered the tent.

"Where exactly?" Mel asked, looking at the parchment laid out flat on a tray.

"In one of the alcoves running off the main wall. It was preserved between the stone slabs of the floor. Damn strange place for it to be," he shook his head.

Mel shrugged, "Maybe somebody wanted to hide it," she said matter of factly.

"Maybe," muttered Janice, craning around Mel to get a look at the thing. Sometimes she hated being short, it did not go with her personality, "Can you read it?"

Mel gave Janice a withering look, "You did actually look at my resume when I gave it to you didn't you?"

"Of course I did! But I don't know what the hell script that is written in, do I?"

"It's Classical Greek, and yes, I can read it," she said, a little put out.

"Good, what does it say?"

Mel rolled her eyes, "Janice, this is hardly the newspaper. There is the small matter of dialect and syntax."

Janice frowned, "I thought you said you can read it."

"I can, but I need a little time to work out the meaning of the whole thing, I can't just read it to you word for word, it wouldn't make any sense."

"Oh."

"Look," she turned to de Cardi, "We'll take this back to the museum and I'll work on it this afternoon. I should have the translation fairly soon, the thing isn't that long. Is that okay?" she cast a glance in Janice's direction.

"Sure Melinda, just let me make a note of the catalogue number and it's all yours," Karl said, reaching into his breast pocket for a notebook and pen. He scrawled down the object's catalogue number and a brief description before nodding.

"Okay, let's do it," Mel said authoritatively.

"Right then," Janice echoed, "we should be going." Janice said, eager to get the parchment back to the museum so Mel could begin translation.

She nodded to de Cardi and picked up the tray with the parchment off the table, "Thanks for the tour Karl, we'll see you soon."

Karl walked Janice and Mel back to the truck and waved the two of them off frowning. Nobody interacted with Janice like that after knowing her for such a short period of time. Something was going on. Karl shook his head and felt a prick of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, "No, de Cardi," he mumbled angrily to himself walking back to his trench.

________________________________________

Chapter Four

The trip back to the museum was no less jarring than the trip to the site. Mel was worried about their precious cargo, so she kept the tray on her lap. She was more concerned about damage to the object than damage to herself, so she often took the brunt of various knocks after Janice had slammed the car into another rut or pothole. Janice insisted that she was driving carefully and Mel wondered what her reckless driving was like. No wonder the suspension was shot. They finally made it back to the museum.

Taking a seat in Ida's office, Mel dragged her hat from her head and wiped a sweaty brow with the back of her sleeve, "Next time," she said pointedly, "we take my car."

"There's nothing wrong with Bessie," Janice said defensively.

"Bessie? You have a name for that heap of junk?" the Southerner asked, dumbfounded. She sent pleading eyes in Ida's direction but received only a smirk.

"She's a good truck Mel, she just needs a little work."

Mel snorted and Janice frowned.

"C'mon, shall we go to your office and have a look at this text?" Mel asked after a moment of tense silence.

Janice nodded and motioned for Mel to enter before her as she carried the tray. The archaeologist carefully set the tray down on her desk and sat down. Mel moved over to her bag and rummaged around for a moment until she pulled out a pair of white cotton gloves.

"So I don't get the natural oils from my hands on the artefact," she explained to Janice's questioning expression. Janice looked down at the parchment. She wished she had known that before. She hated to think how many bits of parchment and scroll there were in the museum with her 'natural oils' on them.

"Oh, I didn't think you were going to burst into a rendition of 'Mammy'," she said trying to cover up.

Mel laughed and raised her hands, shaking them from side to side. She moved over and took the chair opposite Janice's desk, "Paper and pencil?" she asked.

Janice swore and pulled the requested items from a drawer. She handed them over to the translator who was absently staring at the parchment in front of her.

"Ah Janice, this is probably going to take a while. You're not going to sit there gaping at me for the next four hours are you?" Mel asked, feeling Janice's eyes on her.

"What? No, I'll ah, be out in Ida's office if you need me for...anything," Janice said, pushing back her chair and rising. She hadn't been staring at the woman had she?

As soon as the door closed behind the small archaeologist, Mel let out a long breath. Of all the bits of parchment to uncover, it was one of Gabrielle's. She was keeping her mouth shut for the time being; otherwise she'd never get a chance to translate the thing with Janice hovering over her continually if she found out. The last thing she needed at the moment was the feisty archaeologist peering over her shoulder. Mel knew she had always been attracted to women and was comfortable with that fact. However, the images playing through her mind after knowing Janice Covington for half a day were utterly ridiculous.

Mel worked steadily throughout the afternoon, with only a couple of breaks for coffee. She refused point blank to tell the archaeologist what the scroll said until it was fully translated. Janice grumbled about never being told anything and spent the rest of the afternoon sulking with Ida.

Late in the afternoon Mel emerged, holding a series of papers.

Janice jumped up from the chair she was lounging in and almost knocked the translator over in an effort to claim the information.

"You've got it?" Janice asked, sounding like an eager child.

"Yes, I've got it," Mel said, taking advantage of their height difference, holding the papers above her head and well out of Janice's reach. Janice jumped up and down a couple of times until she realised she probably looked stupid.

"So, are you going to let me read it?"

"On one condition," Mel said slowly.

"What's that?" Janice would have done anything.

"That we get out of here and find something to eat, I'm starved."

"You're on, c'mon, I know a great place," she grabbed Mel's arm and dragged her to the door, "See you tomorrow Ida."

Ida waved them out the door thinking that she wouldn't be too far behind them.

"No! Stop right there Janice Covington," Mel shrieked when Janice tried to pull her in the direction of her truck, "We go in my car."

"But Mel-"

"No, I'll have none of it. My car or no translation," she said sternly, trying to adopt Ida's technique with the troublesome woman.

"Je-sus! Why do I do these things?" Janice muttered as she gestured for Mel to lead the way to her vehicle.

Janice stopped dead when Mel halted by something that could only be described as a small tank with wheels instead of track.

"Goddamn, you said car Mel."

"Well that's what it is, you need something like this for off road survey...don't you?"

"Yeah, but, what the hell is it?" Janice asked, walking around the vehicle, translation momentarily forgotten.

"I don't know, a bit of this, a bit of that. My father designed it just before he died. I took the plans to a manufacturer and this is what they produced," she smiled, patting the vehicle.

"You're right, next time we go to site, we take your car."

Mel laughed as she opened the passenger side for Janice. The archaeologist gasped. Outside the thing looked like a Chieftain, inside it was well, like a Rolls.

"You like it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Most people do, I call her Argo."

"Uh-huh."

"Janice, are you alright?" Mel asked, placing a hand against the woman's brow.

"Uh-huh," Melinda Pappas was turning out to be something completely different to what she had first expected, and she was just about to have dinner with her. Shit.

________________________________________

Chapter Five

The room was smoky and crowded, but somehow Janice had managed to wrangle a table near the back, away from the bar area. Mel had not bothered to change out of her work gear since she subconsciously realised the Janice's idea of a 'great place' probably constituted something like that in which they now were; that and the fact that the woman had dragged her out the door.

"What do you think?" Janice asked as she sat came over to the table, depositing a glass of wine in front of Mel and a scotch for herself.

"Well Janice, it certainly has character," she grimaced as she heard someone hoick and spit in the background.

"Yeah, I've always loved this place, it's so...earthy."

"Just what an archaeologist needs right?"

"Yeah, now, how about that translation?" she asked, taking a swallow of scotch.

Mel shook her head, "After we eat, you don't want me to faint half way through do you?"

Janice mentally kicked herself. Of course the woman wanted to eat first, she'd even said as much earlier.

"Geez, sorry Mel. I guess I was just excited by the find. What do you want to have?"

Mel smiled, at least the archaeologist knew when to slow down, even if it had to be spelled out to her.

"What have they got?" Mel leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

"They do a great Irish stew," Janice said after another swallow of scotch. She also neglected to add that it was probably the cheapest thing on the menu.

"Irish stew it is then."

"Excellent," she said, finishing her scotch.

Janice ordered for them both and got them another drink, even if Mel was only half way through her wine.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Dr. Covington?" Mel asked as the fresh glass was placed beside her, "Because I'll have you know, that if we are both drunk, I won't be able to rescue you this time," Mel looked slyly over the top of her wineglass with laughing eyes.

"Drunk? No I ah, I guess there is more in a wine glass right?" Janice met the laughing blue eyes and stopped breathing. This was not good, not good at all. She tore her eyes away and stared down at the table, "I'll be right back," she stammered, pushing herself to her feet and heading for the bathroom.

Janice leaned against the bathroom bench, and held her head in one hand, digging her fingers into her scalp, Okay Covington, she looked at you for Christ's sake that's all. People look at you every day, big deal. Sure, not all of them are really attractive, intelligent women, but people do look at you. Like that? Like what? So you stop breathing? Did she really look at me like that? Did I really stop breathing?' Janice berated herself over and over, chasing the thoughts around in her head. She felt just a little helpless and cursed herself for it. It was like someone had smashed her in the face and she didn't know how to react. After what seemed like a respectable amount of time she mentally shoved the thoughts down and made her way back to the table.

The stew was waiting when she arrived and Mel was waiting for her. She swore silently to herself. Great, the woman was starving and Janice had made her wait.

"You could have started Mel," she said as she sat down and pulled a napkin onto her knee.

"It's alright Janice; I don't really like to eat alone. It was only a couple of minutes," Mel picked up a fork and stabbed a bite-sized piece of meat. She raised it to her lips and tasted it. It was delicious, melt in the mouth and very, very tasty.

"My goodness Janice," she said after she had swallowed, "You said it was great, but this is the best stew I've ever tasted. Who's the cook?"

Janice laughed, "Would you believe a very small and very old Chinese man?"

"Really? I'll have to get the recipe from him. Aren't you going to eat Janice?"

Janice suddenly realised that she had been too preoccupied watching Mel eat to worry about it herself. "God yeah!" she said, taking a healthy forkful and shoving it in her mouth. A second and then a third quickly followed.

Mel stopped her second forkful halfway to her open mouth and watched as Janice proceeded to shovel forkful after forkful of the savoury dish into her face.

"Do you always eat like that?" she finally asked.

"Esh," Janice said around a mouthful.

"You'll get indigestion," Mel warned.

Janice shrugged and pushed another forkful in. By the time Mel had taken her third bite, Janice was sopping the juice from the bowl with some bread. The bread gone, the petite archaeologist leaned back in her chair and stretched.

"Arghh, that was good," she said, looking around at nothing in particular.

"Yes it is."

Janice grinned sheepishly but then realised the only thing of interest to look at was Mel placing forkfuls of stew between her lips. Janice cleared her throat, downed the rest of her second drink and headed for the bar.

"You've got to slow down Janice, if you keep going like this, you'll be on the floor in no time," the barman said as Janice ordered another round.

"Save it Nik, and make it a double."

Nik blew out a breath as he filled Janice's request, "You sure do got it bad Janice. How long have you known her?" he asked innocently.

"Don't you get a hint? I haven't got anything, and she's my employee," Janice said coldly, handing over some money.

"Sure, whatever you say. Just don't come crying in here to drown your sorrows when the whole thing blows up in your face."

"I was going to tip you," Janice said, turning her back on the bar.

By the time she got back to the table, Mel had thankfully finished her meal.

"What took you so long Janice? I was just about to come look for you," the translator said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

"Just having a word with Nik behind the bar. Are we ready for that translation yet?"

"Oh my! Of course, I'd nearly forgotten. I'll read it to you since it would have originally been orated."

Janice nodded and Mel took a sip of her wine before smoothing her translation on the table. She cleared her throat and began.

My name is Gabrielle, Bard from Poteidaea. Some call me bard to the Warrior Princess, but I stand in my own right. I am Queen of the Amazons. I write this script, not as a tale I would normally scribe, but as historical fact, for I hold the item in question. As surely as I now bear the right of caste to the Amazon Nation this account is true, having passed from line to line. It is my duty, as Queen, to see that the veracity of this matter is not forgotten.

The story of the death of Penthesilea, Amazon Queen, is well known to history. History, however, has omitted the most important information. We understand that the Queen died at the hands of Achilles on the walls of Troy, long before my time. Yet in death, Achilles loved her. Achilles was laughed at and seen a fool by Thersites, for who could love a corpse? The ugly Thersites even gouged Penthesilea's eyes, bloodily from her head with his own spear to prove the worthlessness of the hero's affection. This angered Achilles mightily and he slew Thersites with one blow of his fist. Diomedes, outraged at Achilles' action, ordered the body of the Queen thrown into the Scamander, and thence, the Queen was lost.

Unbeknownst to Achilles, Artemis, protective deity of the Amazons, had watched the death of her beloved Queen. So distraught was she by her loss at the hands of the brutish Achilles, Artemis took the strength and heart of Penthesilea and imbibed them into her spearhead. It is believed that whosoever carries the spear of Penthesilea, carries also the strength and heart of the Amazon.

After the death of Penthesilea and the slaying of Thersites, Achilles was overcome with emotion for his dead love. He retrieved her spear and kept it with him until his own death as he drove the Trojans back over the walls of Troy, an arrow from Paris guided to his heel by Apollo.

The spear of Penthesilea would have been lost in the ruins of the Phrygian city had it not been for the brave Antandre, one of the Amazons Penthesilea had taken to Troy. Antandre scaled the walls and retrieved the spear of the Queen from Achilles' death grip before Ajax and Odysseus removed his body. She returned soon after to Amazon lands with her tale and the spear. The spear was given a place of honour by the Amazons and has since passed to each Queen in a long line of successors.

As Queen, I now possess the spear. It has a common bronze blade, two spans long and ribbed. The tang is socketed and fits securely around the shaft. It is nondescript, but it is a symbol of our bravery and power in the face of defeat. To conquer death with love, that is strength not easily recognised.

The collective memory is written, whosoever wields the spear will be as one with the Amazon.

"My God!" muttered Janice after Mel had finished reading, "She was a Goddamn Amazon Queen," she said, almost in disbelief.

Mel said nothing; Janice probably needed a moment to get her head around what she had just heard.

"A real Amazon Queen with a real spear! Mel! Do you know what you have just translated?" she asked leaning over the table in anticipation.

"I know what you think I have just translated Janice. This may not be proof of the actual existence of Amazons. There are many forms of writing Janice." She didn't want to disappoint the woman, but she had to be made aware of the reality of the situation.

"But Gabrielle says it's fact, and we know she existed. She said she was the damn Queen for Christ's sake, what more do you want?"

"Do you believe everything you read Janice? Have we ever found Atlantis or the remains of a hydra or a minotaur? What about centaurs, griffins, nymphs, giants, and any number of other things? It's just mythology and poetic licence Janice," Mel folded her translation and looked across at the archaeologist who was now looking a little deflated.

"We could find the spear?"

"Yes, and we could also find a needle in every haystack on earth. If we are to believe Gabrielle on this, the spear is nothing more than regular military issue. How many of those do you have already in the museum, and how many of them are still out there in the ground?"

"But..." Janice trailed off, Mel was right; it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

"Let me buy you another drink Janice, you look like you could use it," Mel said as she rose, leaving the stunned archaeologist alone at the table.

There was a spear, she could feel it in her bones, and it was somewhere...out there...waiting for her.

"So you're with Janice are you?" Nik asked as Mel fished in her pocket for some money.

"Yes, that's right; I'm working at the museum."

"New then?"

"Started today," she handed the cash over.

Nik whistled and raised his eyebrows, "That was quick, she usually gives them a week."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Before she brings them here, you know."

"No, I don't know, and who is 'them'?"

"Um, Janice's lady friends," Nik said, blushing slightly at Mel's lack of understanding.

"I see. As if it is any concern of yours anyway. Besides, dinner was my idea," Mel had no idea why she was trying to explain herself to this man.

"Your idea?" Nik shook his head, "I hope you know what you are in for lady," he said as he handed her the change.

"I guess I'll find out," Mel said, gathering the two drinks.

She sat down heavily at the table and pushed Janice's drink over to her, "My, does that man have to know everything about you Janice?" she sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"I have apparently just been mistaken for one of your 'lady friends'," Mel said haughtily. Janice choked on her drink, spraying the table and herself, "One of my what?!" she coughed, grabbing a napkin and wiping herself down.

"Well, first of all he said 'them', but that was later clarified to 'lady friends'."

"Oh. Just forget it Mel," Janice said, still mopping at her shirt front.

"No I won't forget it. If I'm going to be mistaken for your lover, I want to know why?"

Oh boy, Janice did not want to be having this conversation. She took a deep breath, "Nik's a fool Mel, and he doesn't know what he sees."

"He seems pretty assertive to me."

"Yeah? Well he's not; he's just a bar tender who wouldn't know what a lover was if one came up and bit him on the ass. Can we drop this?" she was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

"So, do you come here often with your...lovers? You must lead a very exciting life Dr. Covington, enticing young women to a seedy bar for dinner," Mel asked over her wineglass, a wicked glint in her eye.

"Mel! I do not 'entice' young women here," Janice whispered harshly.

The translator smiled, "Oh, so they come of their own volition?" she said in a scandalised tone.

"Stop, stop right now!" Janice ordered.

Mel laughed, an amused laugh of delight, "I'm sorry Janice, you should see the look on your face," Mel laughed again, "Come on, I'll drive you to Bessie," she said rising and reaching for the archaeologist's hand.

________________________________________

"Are you sure you're alright to drive Janice?" Mel asked as she dropped the archaeologist off at the museum.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Janice picked up the brick from behind the front tyre and slung it on to the back seat of her truck. She fumbled a moment in her pocket for the keys and inserted the right one in the ignition.

"Okay Mel, thanks for dinner and the translation. See you tomorrow," she turned the key and was greeted by a whining, coughing sound.

"Shit!"

"Is everything okay?" Mel asked, winding down her window.

"I think she's just cold," Janice answered, "C'mon Bes, don't you do this to me." The engine turned over again but would not fire. Janice pumped the gas for a moment, still no joy.

"Shit!" she swore again, popping the hood and jumping out. No, battery cables were fine. What the bloody hell was wrong with the vehicle? Janice kicked a front tyre and yelped as pain spiralled its way up her leg and had to jump back as the hood crashed down into place.

"Goddamn sonofabitch!" she yelled, hopping around on one foot.

"You sure everything is okay?" Mel asked again, "I can give you a ride if you like."

Janice took one look at her car and retrieved her keys before slamming the driver's side door closed.

"Yeah," she stood with her hands on hips, giving Bessie the most disgusted look she could manage, "If you don't mind."

"Not at all, c'mon, get in," Mel leaned across the vast expanse of her vehicle and opened the passenger's side for Janice.

The archaeologist sank gratefully into the seat and leaned her head against the back. "Goddamn stupid car," she mumbled.

"Better be careful, she might hear you," Mel smiled as she pulled her car out the museum car park. "Which way?"

"Left, then left again," Janice said absently, trying not to look at Mel's hands on the wheel. She'd worked herself up into a sorry state over the entire evening, and the car problem was not making it any better.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mel's soft voice. "You know Janice, it's still quite early. What do you usually do in this town for entertainment?" The Southerner glanced over.

"What? Oh I usually go to a bar."

"With friends?"

Janice shook her head, "Generally by myself." Now that she thought about it, she didn't know if she really had any friends. She supposed her dominant personality tended to scare people away. She couldn't help it, she had to fight to get where she was and she guessed that fight had worn off on her approach to people. She knew she was seen as an eccentric with a terrifying temper and unnatural sleeping habits. That was why she was working at Amphipolis and not the Getty or Metropolitan Museum of Art, she was a liability, but she hadn't really cared until now.

"Well, we've already been to a bar, how about coffee?"

Janice turned her head to gaze quizzically at the woman driving the car, "You mean you haven't had enough of me for one day?" she asked with a snort.

"I have to admit that you are a little addictive, Dr. Covington."

Despite herself Janice teared up, "How can you say that? Since I've met you, I've been drunk, rude, self centred, have exposed myself to you, desperately thought about going off on a wild goose chase for a stupid spear and have people thinking you're sharing my bed! I've been nothing but a complete arse Melinda."

"As I said, you are a little addictive," Mel smiled over at the distraught woman.

Janice shook her head. How could Mel be this calm? Janice was mortified as a tear slid slowly down one cheek.

"I ah...don't really feel like coffee Mel, if you could just take me home? You need to take the next right," she said, wiping at the errant tear.

"Sure," Mel reached over and patted Janice reassuringly on the knee. Janice almost jumped out of her skin, "but you know, it's not worth the tears Janice, I don't think any less of you for it."

Janice tried to smile. What did the woman think of her? She finally nodded and turned to look out the window as they pulled in to her street, "Here is fine Mel."

Mel pulled the car to a stop and waited for Janice to get out, "I'll come get you in the morning," she leaned across the front seat and spoke out the window, "Sleep well."

She received no answer as Janice walked up the front steps to her apartment building. Mel shook her head at the retreating figure. How was she going to sort this one out?

________________________________________

Chapter Six

"Are you afraid Dr. Covington?" Janice awoke to a vaguely familiar voice grating through her mind. She opened her eyes to blackness.

"I asked if you were afraid."

The small archaeologist tried to focus on the sound, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere. She blinked into the gloom and tried to move, only to realise that she was held securely by...something. She struggled against her bonds to no avail.

"Who the hell are you?" she finally screamed, disappointed by the note of panic in her voice.

"Ahhhh, I see you are afraid."

Janice twitched as she felt cold, raspy breath against her neck. Long nails trailed softly down the side of her face.

"There is no need for fear Dr. Covington. I am a friend."

Thin lips replaced the chill breath on her neck and Janice shuddered.

"Who are you?" she whispered breathlessly, wishing she could see, "And where am I?"

She heard a soft chuckle against her ear, "You are here Dr. Covington, and I am Hecate."

Janice stopped breathing. Hecate? She frowned in the blackness.

"If you are a friend, why am I held like this and why can't I see?" she was instantly freed and stumbled forward as the veil of blackness lifted. Janice stared around her wildly but could find no sign of the goddess.

"Where am I?" she repeated. She appeared to be standing in the middle of a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. All around were green fields, cut only by the three roads forming the crossroads where she stood. As she turned, she noticed a statue of a woman with three heads. 'Hecate,' she thought. Thinking of nothing better to do, she addressed the statue.

"Why have you brought me here?" the small archaeologist spun when she heard laughter behind her. Sitting no more than three feet away from her was a she-wolf.

"Idolater," the she-wolf cackled, "why these people insist on erecting such vile pieces of stone work never ceases to amaze me."

"Hecate?" Janice breathed.

"Indeed little one, and as to why you are here, I need your help," Hecate said, indicating the roads with her muzzle. "But first, why don't you come down here to my level?"

Janice instantly dropped into a crouch, a little shocked that she had been looking down at the goddess.

"You are troubled Dr. Covington. Your life has not been easy. It seems that every where you turn people wait to cast you aside. You are not taken seriously, and that angers you very much. Am I right little one?" the goddess asked.

"You're the goddess, you tell me," Janice said gruffly. Little one?

"Those walls will not work with me little one. Do you know who you are?"

Janice snorted. What type of question was that? "I'm the daughter of Harry Covington," she sneered. If she hadn't of known better, she would have sworn that the she-wolf smiled.

"No little one, do you know who you are?"

"I...I..." Janice faltered, her mind was blank. Did she know who she was? A tear slid down her cheek as she realised that she had absolutely no idea. Ever since she could remember she had existed to fulfil another's dream. She had made it her own but was it really, or was she just plagiarising her father's aspirations now he was gone? She felt helpless, lost and totally alone.

"Little one, you are worth so much more than that," Hecate moved over to nuzzle at Janice's hand. After a moment, the she-wolf stepped back and space seemed to slip. Standing before Janice was the figure of a tall female warrior dressed in leathers and armour. She was the spiting image of Melinda Pappas.

"Who are you?" Janice whispered as the figure reached out a hand to stroke the side of her face.

The warrior smiled sadly, "I am still Hecate, but this guise is of the one you have sought for so long."

"Xena..." Janice frowned as long fingers trailed down her jaw line.

"Indeed little one," Hecate shuddered and a look of anguish passed over her features, "Oh me, I can feel her, she has loved you for so very long...but I am distracted, there is more."

The figure changed again and Janice could have been looking in a mirror.

"Who is that?" she forced out through a constricting throat. Suddenly she didn't feel so great.

"It is Gabrielle little one. Do not be afraid."

A moment later a spear appeared in the woman's hands and she held it out to the archaeologist. Janice tilted her head to one side and reached out a hesitant hand, lightly touching the weapon. She drew in a sharp breath and pulled her hand clear of the spear as if it had burned her. The goddess stepped away from Janice, and the archaeologist almost collapsed, breathing heavily.

"Do you understand?"

Janice shook her head to clear it, "The spear..." she breathed.

"And you, little one, are the descendant of the Amazon Queen," the goddess said, returning to her she-wolf form. She showed her teeth in a grin.

"Je-sus..." she trailed off.

"Which is why," the she-wolf padded 'round in a circle, "I need your help."

Janice frowned, "I'm listening," she was still having a little trouble coming to terms with what she had just been shown. Gabrielle, her ancestor, and what was that about love?

"It is Artemis who needs your help really. She hasn't spoken to your line for over two thousand years, not since Gabrielle. There was some sort of disagreement...but I am not permitted to speak of it..." the goddess trailed off.

Janice's eyes almost popped out of her head, "This is too weird," she muttered.

"So, she's sent me, to enlist you."

"Enlist me for what?" Janice asked warily.

Hecate sat on her haunches directly in front of the archaeologist and pierced her with her yellow eyes.

"The runner has returned. The Spear of Penthesilea is in danger little one."

Janice sat bolt upright in bed and reached for the bedside lamp. Her mouth felt dry and she could feel sweat stinging her eyes. She wiped a hand over her face and took a deep breath.

"The runner has returned," she mumbled to herself. She felt certain she had heard it before, but who the hell was the runner? The spear was in danger? Then it did exist, or she was hallucinating. Perhaps she was going insane. She giggled; she wouldn't put it passed her.

________________________________________

Chapter 7

Mel arose the next morning, showered, dressed in a fine dark navy suite, preened herself in the bathroom for well over half an hour and headed out to her car. She stopped by a bakery on the way to Janice's to pick up some fresh pastries for breakfast, and was soon walking into the foyer of the building asking for Janice's apartment number.

"Five-zero-four miss. Take the elevator to the fifth and it's directly on your left. She moving up in the world is she?" the doorman said, looking Mel up and down.

Mel snorted down her nose at the little man and headed to the elevator. The machine looked like it was something out of a 1920's horror flick. It creaked and groaned, shuddered and lurched its way up to the fifth floor. Mel had a moment of panic when she couldn't get the doors open, but they finally relented, spewing her out into the fifth floor foyer. She took a calming breath before she rang the doorbell to 504. She waited for what seemed like an eternity before she heard several bangs and crashes followed by muffled swearing from within. She grinned and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the door to open. When it finally did, Janice was standing bare foot in a pair of boxers and white cotton T-shirt.

"Oh shit! Not again!" the small woman swore before bolting back the way she had come.

Mel laughed and let herself in, wandering through the dishevelled flat until she found the kitchen. She could hear Janice fumbling around some place. Mel took one glance at the items littering the kitchen benches and blanched. Half-finished plates of food, beer bottles and God knew what else made for a right mess. She found the espresso maker, cleaned it, spooned in a healthy serve of coffee and set it on the stove. Next she washed a couple of cups, located the sugar amid a pile of empty glasses and set about looking for milk. She had only opened the door to the icebox a couple of inches before deciding it was not a very good idea. With a strangled noise she shut the thing quickly and retreated to the kitchen table.

"I think you need a house maid," was the first thing she said to the archaeologist as she walked through the door, buckling her belt.

"Yeah, sorry, I haven't had time to clean recently," Janice mumbled.

"And when was the last time you went shopping for food?"

"I don't know, couple of weeks ago."

Mel shook her head, "You've got to look after yourself Janice, you'll get sick."

"You sound like Ida, and I get by okay."

Mel gave the smaller woman an exasperated look, "Well, I brought us breakfast, and coffee's on. No milk, but their might be some penicillin in the ice-box by now."

"Ha, ha, you kill me," Janice said as she sat down, grabbing a pastry out of the bag, "Thanks for breakfast." the archaeologist saluted with the pastry before shoving half of it in her mouth.

The coffee announced its readiness and Mel rose to pour two cups of the strong liquid. She set the cups down on the table and stared across at her employer.

"Are you alright this morning Janice?"

Janice frowned as she sipped her coffee, "Yeah Mel, I'm fine. Don't know what got into me last night. I guess I was just tired or something. I did have a pretty bad hangover."

Mel took a delicate bite of pastry, "Because you know Janice, if you ever need to talk about anything, you should consider me a friend."

Janice stopped chewing, a friend. It all came rushing back, Hecate, Artemis, and the spear.

"Are you sure you're alright Janice?"

"Yeah, fine," she licked her lips, tasting sugar, "Mel, there's something I have to tell you."

"Go ahead," Mel said around a bite.

"You're probably not going to believe me, but I received a visit from Hecate last night, the Spear of Penthesilea is in danger," she whispered conspiratorially.

Mel scoffed, waving the comment away with her hand, "I think you had too many drinks last night Janice and your imagination ran away with you."

"No! It's true...it exists. She showed me Xena and she showed me myself, Gabrielle." There was a tense pause as Mel opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut again, "She needed my help Mel."

"Hecate, as in the creator of sorcery, and you're Gabrielle?" Mel said incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, 'Hecate as in the creator of sorcery', and I'm not Gabrielle, I'm related to her, just like you're related to Xena. You don't believe me," Janice said flatly.

Mel chewed thoughtfully, "I believe that you believe it Janice, but it's a little hard to fathom," she said diplomatically.

Janice shook her head, "Someone's after the spear, Hecate said the runner has returned, whatever that means."

"C'mon Janice, we don't even know if the thing is real. But if we're going to play this game, the runner is probably Achilles," Mel gestured with her pastry with one hand and a brought her coffee cup up to her mouth with the other.

"Achilles?"

"That's right, the Achilles who killed Penthesilea...the guy in the scroll last night, the one I translated, remember?" Mel pierced the archaeologist with stern eyes.

Janice frowned and shook her head a little, "How could he return?"

"I don't know, it's your machination," the translator shrugged.

"Don't patronise me Melinda Pappas. The spear exists, I...touched it," Janice looked down at her hands and shivered.

"I'm not trying to patronise you Janice, I'm just pointing out that reality seems to be escaping you for the moment. And another thing Janice..."

"What's that?" she said absently, her mind wandering to other matters.

"You have a little something on your face," Mel said, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth as she leaned over and wiped a big dollop of cream from Janice's cheek with her handkerchief.

"Aw Jesus! Why didn't you tell me?" the archaeologist groaned, as she wiped at her face with the back of her hand, momentarily embarrassed out of her reverie.

"I just did, and it's gone now Janice."

"How long's it been there?"

Mel smirked, "Ever since you took your first bite."

"Goddamn! And you let it stay there?"

"Well it did look kind of cute," Mel grinned.

"Jesus! I'm sitting here with half a goddamn pastry hanging off my face and you think it's cute? What are you doing here?" Janice shook her head.

The grinned dropped from the Southerner's face, "C'mon, we'd better get to the museum."

________________________________________

Chapter Eight

"Where is Dr. Covington?" the man in SS uniform asked, leaning over Ida's desk.

The secretary shrugged and glared defiantly at the man's clear blue eyes.

"She doesn't usually come in before ten...Captain," she eyed the man's epilates.

The man snorted and pushed himself away from the desk, disgusted at American laxity.

"I will wait."

The man sat in one of the waiting chairs, legs crossed, casually picking at his nails. Ida noticed with distaste that he flicked the little pieces of dirt onto the floor. The man looked up, taking in her sneer.

"You colonials are all the same," he said dismissively, "you never recognise true power when you see it." He tilted his head thoughtfully for a moment, "Or perhaps you are of convict stock?"

That was it, no one called Ida a colonial, and no one insulted her convict ancestry. She half rose from behind her desk.

"You listen here you mongrel, my father died fighting bastards like you in the Great War, and I'll be damned if we let you win this one," she glared fury.

The Captain laughed, "You amuse me Fraulein. Now sit down!"

"I will not-" but she was cut off short when she heard voices in the corridor.

The SS Captain raised an eyebrow as the door opened and in walked Janice and Mel. Janice stopped dead when she saw the thunderous look on Ida's face and spun, only to be greeted by the black chest of the Captain.

"Ah, Dr. Covington, so good of you to arrive," he said smoothly.

Mel gasped and grabbed on to the wall for support. Ida sank back into her chair casting an apologetic look at Janice.

Janice looked the man up and down for a moment noting his impeccable uniform, auburn hair and Aryan features before stepping back.

"Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my museum?" she wished her .44 revolver wasn't in her desk in the other room.

The man smiled evilly, "I am SS-Hauptsturmführer Eric Vogt, and no Fraulein, this is not your museum," he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. Vogt handed it to Janice with a small flourish of victory.

The archaeologist unfolded the item with a sense of trepidation. She noted the emblem of the Reichs Chancellery at the top of the page and the sense of doom became worse.

"On whose authority..." she began, but trailed off when she saw the signature of SS-Gruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich, at the foot of the page. She scanned the text which had been translated into English for her benefit.

________________________________________

19th July 1941

Memorandum to: SS-Haupsturmführer Eric Vogt

From: The Chief of Security Police and Security Service SS-Gruppenführer R. Heydrich.

Re: Order by direct command of Reichsleiter Alfred Rosenberg, dated 17th July 1941.

Hauptsturmführer Vogt,

Relating to the original Hitler Order, the further support of the SS has been requested for the undertakings of the Einsatz Rosenberg. It is to be understood that the SS, not the regional authorities, will assume the confiscation of books, scientific materials, and art treasures, household furnishings of value and antiquities in the area of Amphipolis. On the order of Reichsleiter Rosenberg, this confiscation of materials will additionally include excavation of previously identified structures on the acropolis of the old town. All artefacts recovered from excavations are the property of the German Reich. The Führer has reserved for himself the decision as to their use. It is your obligation to undertake this order regarding the Archaeological Museum of Amphipolis.

Heil Hitler,

Reinhard Heydrich.

Chief of Security Police and Security Service

________________________________________

"I am part of the Rosenberg Organisation doctor," he said snidely, "You will take your orders from me, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Janice mumbled.

"What do you mean 'crystal'? asked Mel, who had recovered enough to become angry.

Janice turned to her, "What do you want me to do Mel?" she threw her hands in the air and clenched her teeth.

"Dr. Covington is very wise Fraulein. But I apologise, my briefing did not include mention of you."

Mel bristled, unsure whether to introduce herself or not. Deciding it would probably be stupid not to, she smiled, "Melinda Pappas."

"And your position in this affair?"

"Translator of texts."

"Excellent. Now perhaps Dr. Covington, you would be so kind as to give me a tour of the museum?"

Janice snorted, "What, so you can pick and choose the objects to ship back to Berlin?"

Vogt shrugged, "That is an interesting sideline of my work. Doctor?" he asked holding a hand to the open door.

Janice spent the first two hours of the morning silently fuming as she showed Vogt around the museum. He wrote several things in a little black notebook and asked her a few questions.

"What is the provenance of this mosaic doctor?" he asked, stopping by the reconstruction of the small tesserae.

Janice glanced briefly at the artefact in question, "It is from the Acropolis, Captain, from the settlement area of the ancient town dated to approximately the Fourth century B.C. I believe this particular piece was removed from the atrium of a house. As you can see, it has a double border with representations of fish, octopi, birds and trees around the outside. The interior decoration is of two youths spearing fish."

"I am not blind doctor; there was no need to elaborate. What else do you have from the Acropolis?"

Janice bit back a scathing remark with difficulty, "Recent excavation has revealed a basilika, however this was totally destroyed in antiquity. There are Byzantine fortifications to the east-"

"No, I mean artefacts doctor."

It appeared that Janice could not stall, "Apart from more mosaics, we have recovered several black figure amphorae, one depicting Dionysus..."

"Have they been attributed to a specific painter or group?"

"Not as far as I am aware."

Vogt grunted but wrote it down anyway. He glanced briefly at Janice and fingered one auburn sideburn, "Tell me about the mound on the acropolis."

Janice blanched, "Ah, it was surveyed in a few years ago and was interpreted as a tumulus. We haven't been able to determine its' exact nature without excavation, but that has been held off due to the large amount of earth covering it. You would need a large team and a bulldozer to get down to the chamber. We don't have those types of resources," she said, hoping to put off Vogt's attempt at excavation.

Vogt smiled, "You need not worry about your resources doctor, the SS is very resourceful."

"You can't be serious," Janice was astounded.

"Very serious Fraulein. I intend to make the most of my position here and follow my orders. Do not underestimate me."

Janice had had just about enough of this man, "It takes weeks to set something up like this, paper work, permission, and workers. You...you can't just...start!"

"As I said, do not worry, and Doctor, I am all the permission that is needed."

Janice's jaw dropped open but she shut is quickly with an audible click.

"Ah, I need to go to my office, feel...free to look around some more," she managed to get out before stalking off.

Ida and Mel were sitting quietly when the tornado that was Janice Covington stormed through on the way to her office. Janice slammed her door with such intensity that the windows rattled.

"Goddamn fucking Nazi swine!" she bellowed pacing back and forth in front of her desk, gesticulating wildly. "Thinks he can come in here and start an excavation. Doesn't know the first thing about it. Thinks we'll dig a hole and find the goddamn Ark of the Covenant or something. Stupid, goddamn condescending arse hole sonofabitch!" she kicked over one of the chairs and stood breathing heavily.

"Ah Janice? Are you alright?" Mel asked from the door.

Janice whirled and stared at the translator, "No I am not fucking alright! Does it look like I am?" she yelled.

Mel took a deep breath and wondered what she had just let herself in for.

"It kinda looks like you're upset," she moved into the room but avoided the volatile archaeologist.

"Upset? Yeah, you could say that," Janice said, placing her hands on her hips and nodding vigorously, "but that doesn't cover the half of it," she kicked at the fallen chair causing Mel to jump back.

"Wrecking you're office isn't going to fix anything Janice."

"No? Could've fooled me."

"Oh sweet Jesus, why don't you calm down and tell me what's happening?"

Janice ran a hand through her hair and pierced Mel with her eyes.

"That Nazi bastard wants to rip up half the Acropolis, that's what's happening!"

"I see."

"Everything's out of control and I hate that."

Mel smiled, moving over to the distraught woman, "You mean it's out of your hands and you hate that."

"Exactly! What am I gonna do?" the small archaeologist appeared to deflate before Mel's eyes. "What am I gonna do?" she asked again, shaking her head.

Mel was suddenly struck by an overwhelming desire to comfort the woman before her. Her expression softened and she reached out a hand to brush hair away from Janice's face.

"Hey, it's alright." she murmured as she pulled the archaeologist to her, holding her tightly against her chest.

"Oh shit," she croaked as tears formed in her eyes and spilled onto Mel's chest.

Mel clung to the weeping woman, stroking her hair as she cried.

"That's it, let it go," she muttered as she felt Janice's arms snake around her waist.

Janice allowed herself to be held, comforted by strong arms and soft words. She couldn't believe this woman. She'd been nothing but insensitive and uncaring since they met and now she was being held like a child. Janice loosened her grip on the Southerner to look up into her face. Their eyes locked and Mel smiled. Janice was lost. She suddenly became aware of the position of her hands and the warmth radiating from the Southerner's body. She felt Mel's own hands stroking her hair and back. Janice blushed, pulled free of the embrace and scrubbed at her face with her sleeve, looking everywhere but at the Southerner.

"Jesus, I'm sorry Mel. I'm a mess. Look what I've done to your jacket. I...I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry," Janice turned away, shoulders heaving.

"It's alright Janice, I understand, sometimes you've just gotta let it out," she moved to stand behind the smaller woman and placed her hands on the quaking shoulders, turning Janice slowly around. They stood at arms length for a while, Mel searching the archaeologist's eyes.

"Oh dear Lord, so help me, I want to...." Mel breathed in a frustrated voice.

"You want to what?" "Ever since I met you," the Southerner laughed, "even on that darn bus, I...I've wanted to kiss you," the Southerner admitted, unable to ignore the emotion building within her.

Janice gulped but said nothing, her gaze flicking to the Southerner's lips and back up to her eyes. She let out a long breath through a smile as Mel wiped away some of her freshly fallen tears.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"If you knew," the Southerner continued, smoothing Janice's hair from the side of her face, "you'd run screaming for the hills."

Janice dragged in a harsh breath. Why was it so hard to breathe? "Jesus," she shuddered.

"Will you let me Janice?" the Southerner asked, moving in slightly.

Janice made no attempt to stop the woman in her advance. She didn't think she could even if she wanted to. She was transfixed and reeling from the suddenness of the encounter. How had things got so reckless so quickly? Mel reached up a hand and removed her glasses; she was mere inches away from the archaeologist. When Janice did not protest the closeness, she moved in the final distance, embracing the smaller woman's lips with her own. Mel revelled in the soft, warmth of Janice's lips. Their tongues slid smoothly together, each exploring the glories each had to offer. Janice finally broke the kiss when she felt Mel's hand cup a breast.

"Holy shit!" she rasped, swallowing hard. She brought a hand up to her temple and breathed heavily, frowning at her body's clear response. She held up a hand as Mel tried to speak and walked over behind her desk where she collapsed in the chair, "Holy shit."

"Oh my, Janice if you didn't want me to, you only had to say..." Mel trailed off, feeling like the scum of the earth.

Janice shook her head, "It's not that Mel," she paused for breath, "It's just I wasn't expecting to feel...like I feel."

"How do you feel?" Mel had to know if she'd just made a big, big mistake.

Janice grinned at the stricken look that appeared on the Southerner's face.

"Like I'm going to I don't know what. Mel..." she said, letting out another breath.

"Oh."

She scrubbed an unsteady hand through her hair, "I need to think, and too much is happening on too many fronts. Okay?" she looked up, seeking reassurance.

"Of course you need to think," the translator frowned at her own stupidity. "I'm sorry Janice," she said, backing away from the archaeologist's desk. She didn't know whether to feel elated or disappointed.

"Don't be."

"I'll be outside, with Ida," the Southerner nodded, but got no further than half way to the door when it burst open and Vogt walked through. He took one look at the flushed archaeologist and frowned. What was going on? He glanced at Mel, she seemed calm enough. Had they been discussing him behind his back?

"Covington," he said, "I want to look at maps and plans of the Acropolis as it now stands. You will get them for me."

Suddenly Janice's office began to feel very small as Vogt walked over to her desk. She rose slowly and moved to a large, flat filing cabinet against one of the walls. After checking the labels on the drawers, she pulled one open and extracted a couple of large sheets.

"You, Miss Pappas, what is this?" Vogt asked, picking up the parchment from Janice's desk and waving it around.

Mel shrieked in alarm and ran over to the man. She managed to extricate the document and placed it carefully back on its tray.

"That," she began a little breathlessly, "is a rather fragile two thousand year old piece of documentation."

Vogt cleared his throat, suddenly aware of his error, "I see. What does it concern?"

Mel caught the warning glance from Janice, "It is an historical account regarding the death of Penthesilea, Amazon Queen, at the hands of Achilles at Troy," she said tersely.

"Historical? Forgive me, but wasn't Achilles a mythical figure?" he asked, slightly amused.

"That's correct, but the text is written in an historical, manner Captain, not necessarily a factual one."

"Ah, the thin line between fact and...fantasy," he said coldly.

The pause before his final word was not lost on Mel. Nor was it lost on Janice.

"The plans, Captain?" she said harshly, throwing the requested material onto the top of the file with much more gusto than was needed.

"Indeed," he glanced once more at Mel before focussing his attention on the large sheets of paper Janice had rolled out before her. He gazed at the plan for a few moments, his military mind working.

"So, the supposed tumulus lies directly behind the housing complex. Does the close proximity bother you? Why is it alone?"

Janice shrugged, "No, the closeness to the houses does not bother me, and it was not uncommon for well to do families to have large tombs located near their residence."

"So you think the tomb is associated with one of the houses?"

"I don't know, it is possible, but it is also possible that the tomb had nothing to do with them. It may be of a later period, but we won't know for sure...unless it is excavated," she finished, realising she had just given Vogt a legitimate reason to begin the excavation.

"Excellent! Now, doctor, I must use your phone. If you will excuse me?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

More than a little put out at being excused from her office, Janice glared at Vogt before grabbing Mel by the sleeve and hauling them both out of the door.

________________________________________

Chapter 9

Two hours later, Dr. Karl de Cardi came bursting through into Ida's office. He didn't look too pleased, an unpleasant scowl on his normally serine features.

"What the bloody hell is going on around here?" he demanded of Janice as she stepped out of the kitchenette.

"Coffee?" she asked, hoping to calm the man down.

"No I don't want any damned coffee! I want you to tell me Janice, why I was just ordered to shut down my site by a handful of Nazi pricks?" he stormed.

Janice sighed, "You'd better sit down Karl."

Karl began to protest but took the chair Janice pointed to with a surly grace.

"What's happened?" he asked, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt.

Janice moved over to sit on the corner of Ida's desk, much to the annoyance of her secretary, and sipped at her coffee.

"This morning I was handed an order regarding the distribution of artefacts to the SS. It was from Heydrich. Captain Eric Vogt has been put in charge of the museum, and is following orders to excavate previously identified structures on the Acropolis, specifically the tumulus structure. It appears that he is shifting you and your workmen to the new site. There's nothing I can do Karl, and that means there is nothing you can do, except comply."

"I will not consort with these fools Janice," he said, shaking his head angrily.

"You have no choice Karl."

Karl nodded, slumping in his chair, "Maybe I will have that coffee," he said, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

Janice patted him on the shoulder as she walked back to the kitchenette.

"Ah Dr. de Cardi?" Mel asked from her chair.

De Cardi swivelled, he'd completely forgotten about the woman, "I'm sorry Melinda, how are you? I guess I was a little preoccupied," he said, feeling faintly embarrassed.

"Why thank you for asking, I suppose I'm alright, considering. But what I was going to say was that I finished the translation yesterday. It proved quite interesting."

"Really?" he asked as he lit his cigarette, squinting through the smoke.

"Why yes, it talks of the death of Penthesilea. It also adds another piece to the myth, claiming that the heart and strength of the Amazon Queen were placed in her spear head by Artemis, and that whoever carried the spear would be as one with the Amazon."

Karl nodded, "Interesting, guess they'll have to amend a few mythology texts huh?"

Mel smiled and snickered, "I suppose so." Taking advantage of Janice's temporary absence, Mel leaned towards de Cardi conspiratorially, "Janice seems to think the thing is real and she's desperate to go looking for it. Claims it is in some kind of danger and that she's on a mission from Artemis to protect it."

De Cardi choked on his cigarette smoke, "She what!?"

"Uh-huh."

Behind her desk, Ida was chuckling softly, "Don't worry," she said after a moment, "Janice is always getting obsessed by something, it's in her nature. She'll snap out if it."

"Snap out of what?" Janice asked as she returned, placing a cup of coffee on Ida's desk for Karl.

"Ah nothing Janice, thanks for the coffee," Karl said, grasping the mug and taking a careful sip.

Mel looked guilty, but Janice said nothing as they exchanged glances.

All four turned as the door to Janice's office opened revealing SS-Hauptsturmführer Vogt.

"Ah..." he began, stabbing Karl with his clear blue eyes, "You must be Dr. de Cardi, so good of you to join us. Perhaps the three of you would like to come in here; we have some business to discuss."

"Are you the man responsible for the closure of my site?" de Cardi demanded as soon as they were through into Janice's office.

"Yes I am, but I think you will agree, that the excavation of the tumulus will yield some interesting finds," Vogt gloated, happy in his little victory. He couldn't see that excavation was not about the recovery of artefacts, but about the recovery of information.

"You, Captain, have disrupted my research. I cannot go running around the country side digging things up just because some...some Kraut wants me to!" de Cardi fumed.

"I see," Vogt stated icily as he leaned over into de Cardi's face, "If this 'Kraut' as you put it, did not want you to, I can assure you that your brains would be splattered all over Dr. Covington's office wall by now. Is that understood?"

Karl paled visibly at the inference and nodded mutely before backing away from Vogt's unrelenting glare.

"Good. You, as will Dr. Covington and Miss Pappas, report to the site of the tumulus in the morning. Your workmen and heavy machinery will also be there. My men and I will be in authority. Nothing will be done without my express permission. You may go, all of you," he dismissed them rudely.

"Where are we going?" Janice sat slumped in the passenger's seat of Mel's car staring out the window as they moved slowly down the street.

"No idea, but I'm getting you as far as possible away from that man."

Janice smiled weakly, "Trying to protect me?"

"I think its Vogt who'll need protection if you get mad Janice," Mel glanced over at her passenger.

"You don't know me Mel."

"That's not true, I've known you for what, a day?"

"Exactly, that's not very long."

Mel nodded, licking her lips thoughtfully, "I know where this is headed, you want to know why I kissed you."

"Well, yeah...it'd kind of help me get my head around it. It was quite sudden, I mean I...I liked it, wanted you to and all that, but I wasn't really thinking you'd..." Mel shot Janice a look, "I'm babbling aren't I? I never babble...I'll just shut up now."

"Look, Janice," Mel pulled the car over to the verge of the road and turned to the small archaeologist, "if you have something to say to me, just say it will you?"

Janice smiled and clasped her hands in her lap, "I...guess I'm confused Mel."

"Well that makes two of us, I don't usually throw myself at women either."

"No, this is different. I've never really felt like this. Before it was all a game, a chase, I just used them Mel. Huh, it wasn't even that great. But Mel, you made me feel something back there, something I can't explain, something indefinable, it just...is."

"Like I've known you forever?" Mel asked softly.

"That's it, like an old shoe."

"Ha! Well thank you very much, now I know how you feel, let's get going shall we?" Mel said haughtily, baiting the archaeologist. She moved to release the hand brake.

"No! No, no, no, no, that's not what I meant," Janice grabbed the woman's hand and held it; "I meant that you felt like...home."

Mel met the archaeologist's sincere eyes with her own and nodded ever so slightly.

________________________________________

Chapter 10

Mel picked Janice up again the next morning, Bessie still being out of commission, and drove to the Acropolis. Janice was not happy with the turn of events and her anger was only freshly fuelled when she saw two heavy excavators moving around on top of the supposed tumulus, pushing mountains of dirt off the sides. She jumped out of the car as soon as Mel pulled it to a halt and grabbed hold of the first person she saw, an SS Private.

"Where is Vogt?!" she demanded of the startled man.

"Was?" he replied staring blankly at the deranged woman.

Janice swore and racked her brain for a moment, "Vogt, wo ist Hauptsturmführer Vogt?"

"Ach ja" the man responded, pointing in the general direction of the mound.

"Thanks very much," Janice said sarcastically, being none the wiser before she dashed off to the mound, Mel right behind her.

"Vogt!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she neared the mound and found the man standing to the rear, legs apart and arms crossed, looking like he was commanding the world.

"Ah, Doctor, I see you are here, and Miss Pappas," he turned to greet them, speaking loudly over the roar of the heavy machinery.

"Vogt! What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Get those damned excavators off there right now!" she fumed.

"You said you needed to remove the soil from the top of the tomb, I am removing it," he said simply.

"Not like that you idiot, iit has to be monitored. You can't just get rid of the dirt any which way. Two of them? You must be insane! I don't care if the order has come from Goddamn Hitler, I will not make this into a treasure hunt! There aren't even any grid markers or survey points. How the hell are we supposed to know where we are?"

Vogt looked a little confused, "Does it matter?"

"For Christ's sake, this isn't the 1880's, there is a method to excavation," Janice growled as she moved away from the man and grabbed a shovel before stalking up the side of the mound directly into the path of the moving machinery.

Janice stood in the middle of the half-decimated mound and held both her hands above her head, shovel and all.

"Stop!" she screamed, then realising that the drivers were Germans and probably thick as two short planks, she rephrased, "Halt!"

The two men driving the heavy excavators stared at the crazy woman yelling in English and German on the top of the mound. Each brought their machine to a stop a few feet away from the figure. Engines idling, the noise level dropped somewhat.

"What are you doing?" yelled one of the men in heavily accented English. "Get out of the way, you fool!"

Janice speared her shovel into the ground and leant on it, "Get this machinery off here," she demanded.

Vogt came running up behind her and signalled to the drivers, "Do as she says," he said in German.

Both men shook their heads at the same time and revved their engines. The excavators lurched into motion. Janice felt the earth tremble ever so slightly beneath her feet. She cast a long look to Vogt and let her shovel fall to the ground before she flung herself off the mound. An instant later all was chaos. Mel ran over to Janice as she was picking herself up off the dusty earth.

"Janice, Janice, oh my! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, looking up at the cloud of dust billowing from the top of the mound as she dusted herself down. "No! Mel! Don't go up there," she tried to pull the woman back, but the translator yanked free of the smaller woman's grasp and bolted up the side of the mound. Janice cursed and followed, having to work double time to keep up with the Southerner's long strides.

"Oh Sweet Jesus," Mel muttered when she reached the top.

One of the excavators was lost from site and the other teetered precariously on the edge of a huge cave in. The driver clung, frozen, to the supports of the cabin. Vogt was nowhere to be seen.

"Don't move!" Janice ordered the remaining driver. The man wasn't about to argue. He nodded, but even that slight movement caused the vehicle to rock, so hazardous was its position.

"Mel, stay back, the whole thing might go," Janice warned.

"Oh dear Lord, that poor man!" she gasped, locking eyes with the driver.

"Don't worry Mel; I'm sure we can get him out. We've gotta get that excavator off there too, Shit!" she swore. She sounded so sure of herself, but she had absolutely no idea how they were going to do it. What about the other excavator? Where the hell was that? And what the fuck had happened to Vogt?

That last question was answered when a pair of scrabbling hands appeared over the edge of the gaping hole. A black booted foot slung its way over the top followed by a decidedly grimy SS uniform. SS-Hauptsturmführer Vogt dragged himself to relative safety before standing and limping awkwardly over to the two women.

"My God," he said, "you should see what's down there."

Janice and Mel gaped at him, amazed he had survived, "Are you hurt?" Janice asked, scanning the soldier despite her dislike of him.

"Just a twisted knee I think, nothing too significant, but Covington, I've never seen anything like it, it's wonderful," he glanced back over his shoulder, barely containing his excitement.

Janice snorted in disbelief, what did he think this was...the tomb of Tutankhamen?

"Where's the other excavator?" she asked, trying to get his attention.

"What? Oh, it's down there, the driver's dead, smashed open the sarcophagus, stupid fool."

Mel gasped at the detachment of the man.

"It's hardly his fault Captain."

"That's right, it's yours Covington. If you had not got those machines to move, the structure would not have collapsed," Vogt gazed coldly at the archaeologist.

"How dare you!" shrieked Mel, "If Janice hadn't moved those 'dozers, you'd have both of them down there right now, two dead drivers and a completely ruined sarcophagus. You should be thanking her, not accusing her."

"Well, Miss Pappas, I see there is a heart pumping away inside that lovely chest of yours," he sneered.

Mel saw red and lashed out with her fist, catching Vogt with a beautiful right cross that sent him sprawling to the earth.

"Jesus!" Janice gasped as she stared back and forth between the unconscious Vogt and the shocked Mel, who was shaking out her fist and desperately trying not to let the pain of the impact register on her face.

"How'd you do that?"

"What do you mean 'how'd I do that?' I punched him Janice, that's all, and oh God, Sweet Jesus it hurt," she groaned, flexing her fingers. Janice was still looking at her, "What? You think I'm made of sugar or something?"

Janice snorted, "No! I wasn't...well, you're just full of surprises aren't you Melinda?"

Their eyes met for a moment before they were both dragged from their abstraction by a woefully insistent voice.

"Help? Oh dear God! Help me!"

"Shit!" cursed Janice as she ran down the side of the mound calling out for de Cardi.

"Karl! Where the hell are you?" she screamed as she searched around the base of the mound. She saw his vehicle parked over near Mel's but couldn't find the man. A few moments later she spotted him, over by one of the tents that had been erected.

"Karl! Thank God!" she blurted as she ran up to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Hey Jan, good to see you too, what is it?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"The roof of the structure has collapsed, taking down one of the excavators. That stupid fool Vogt thought he could go up there with two of the things. The other one looks like it's about to go in too and there's an idiot Jerry up there hanging on for dear life. We gotta get some heavy stuff out here now and secure the site," she finished, panting.

Karl looked over her shoulder and saw the problem for the first time, "Dear God! I'll get right on it. I'll head into town to see what I can organise and be back before you know it. You hold things here," he said as he began to run to his car.

"Karl?" Janice yelled to him and he half turned, jogging backward, "Thanks," she said sincerely. Karl smiled and saluted before turning and sprinting the rest of the way to his vehicle.

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Chapter 11

Karl de Cardi returned within the hour leading a procession of vehicles including a crane, a truck and an ambulance. He jumped out of his car and ordered the crane to back up against the mound.

"That was quick," Janice said as she walked over to him. He motioned for the driver to stop the crane and swivel the arm out to the stricken excavator.

"Yeah well, you're not the only one who's owed favours in this town, Jan," he grinned and held up his hand to halt the arm of the crane and lower the hook. After several minutes, the excavator was relatively secure and a very grateful SS soldier jumped clear and staggered down the side of the mound. He was promptly taken over to the ambulance to be looked over.

"Okay, you can lift it now," Karl ordered.

The engine noise of the crane whirred higher as it took the weight of the heavy vehicle and strained as it swivelled the excavator to a safer position by the side of the tumulus. It took somewhat longer for the retrieval of the second excavator.

Finally Karl called over his workmen who had been sitting idly for most of the morning. He pointed over to the truck and then up at the site, explaining what he wanted done. Most of the men nodded and moved over to the truck to begin unloading various pieces of scaffolding.

"Karl, you really are a genius, I couldn't have done it better myself," Janice said jumping up and giving the man a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, calm down, people'll start to talk! Besides, can't have the rest of the thing collapsing when you're in there now, can we, Jan?"

Vogt had re-emerged some time earlier and had been tactfully avoiding the two women. He had watched the removal of the excavators from the safety of a tent, nursing a dislocated jaw. It wasn't until one of the ambulance personnel actively sought him out on Mel's insistence that his jaw was returned to its correct position. He was fuming that a woman had floored him. He tried to tell himself that he would not of gone down if it had not been for his injured leg, but his injured pride hurt worse at the moment, after all, he was an officer in the SS.

It took the better part of the day to secure the site, so it was not until late after noon that Janice, Mel and Karl found themselves on the edge of the collapsed structure, looking down.

"It's pretty beat up down there Jan. There's a hell of a lot of rubble and dirt. It really should be cleared first. I can get my workmen on it in the morning," Karl said, hoping to dissuade Janice from entering the structure.

"No way Karl, we've gotta check the 'wonderful things' Vogt insisted he saw. We can't leave the site open at night. God knows who'll get into the thing."

"We could post guards," Mel suggested, eying the hole.

"Uh-uh," Janice shook her head, "It's not the locals I'm worried about. I'll not have those Nazi dogs dragging off the contents in the middle of the night and not know what they've got."

"She does have a point," Karl said, "Shall we?" He unhooked a flashlight from his belt and stepped backwards over the edge, climbing the scaffolding down to the floor of the tomb, "C'mon guys, it's safe enough," he yelled up.

Janice and Mel quickly descended and stood in the vaulted chamber.

"No wonder the bloody thing collapsed, look how high it's vaulted," Janice mumbled as she picked her way through the rubble.

The interior was nondescript, large, spacious, the walls decorated in relief sculpture. By far the most impressive thing in the tomb was the sarcophagus, even if it was damaged by the fall of the excavator. The capstone had been broken in two and lay partially collapsed in the sarcophagus. One corner had been crushed beyond recognition and lay in a powdered heap on the ground.

"So much for the 'wonderful things'," Janice muttered, surveying the tomb. She shook her head. Well, Vogt didn't know what he was talking about. Maybe a tomb like this constituted 'wonderful things' to him. She shrugged and moved over to examine the relief sculpture. They depicted battles and legends. Janice made out the figures of Herakles, Athena, Artemis, Aphrodite and Zeus as she walked along the walls. Typical she thought as she wandered along, casually tracing her fingers over the cold marble. She felt sorry for the poor soul who would be responsible for drawing this lot. She snorted, it would probably be her. Hang on. Janice stopped dead. Did that particular figure look remarkably like her or was she imagining things? She moved closer. It was difficult to tell in the half-light filtering down from above. She motioned for Karl to join her with the flashlight. He gasped when he saw the figure Janice was standing beside.

"What the hell?" he asked, shining the light alternatively between the sculpture and Janice.

"Hey, cut that out!" Janice warned, swatting the light away from her face.

"I'm sorry Jan, but that could be your sister," he said, lowering the light.

"Yeah right, and you could be Herakles over there," she laughed it off trying not to sound troubled. The figure was Gabrielle.

"Ah Janice? Can you come over here for a moment?" Mel's voice wavered out to them from beside the sarcophagus.

"What is it?" Janice asked, trotting over. Mel had cleaned the top of the slab to reveal a series of carved letters across the top.

"Do you know what that says, Janice?"

Janice stared at the letters for a moment before giving up, "No idea, you tell me."

"It says," Mel moved forward and underlined each word with a finger as she read, "Xena, Warrior Princess of Amphipolis."

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Chapter 12

"Where are they?" Eric Vogt grabbed the lapels of one of his men and shook, fire burning in his eyes. The soldier tried to shrink into his uniform, but unfortunately it was a snug fit.

"Who?" came the shaky voice.

"That meddling archaeologist and her companions you fool," Vogt shouted into the man's face, spittle flecking the younger man.

"I...I think they went inside, Captain."

"Idiots!" Vogt exploded, shoving the man from him and heading up the side of the mound, unholstering his Luger as he went.

________________________________________

"Holy shit! You're kidding me?" Janice asked, the astonishment clear on her face.

"That's what it says Janice. It's Xena."

Janice grinned, "You realise what this is?"

"Don't tell me," said a voice from above, "it's the greatest archaeological find of the century?"

"Shit! Vogt!" Janice swore as her eyes locked on to the German, then flicked down to the gun in his hand. She licked her lips nervously as he began to make his way down the scaffolding.

"You have upset me Fraulein. First, your Amazon bitch here hits me," he let his gaze fall coldly on Mel, "and now you come down here, to my tomb, uninvited." He reached the floor of the tomb and limped over, fingering his jaw, "How do you think I should react to that?" he asked, running the barrel of his pistol down the side of Janice's cheek.

Janice hocked and spat, hitting Vogt in the face. Vogt turned his head away and wiped at the offending substance with his fingers, "Now that wasn't very lady-like Dr. Covington," he glared at her out of the corner of his eye, flicking the material to the ground.

"I'm no lady," she shot back.

Vogt threw his head back and laughed maniacally, "Indeed," he became serious. "The three of you, lift the slab, now!" he gestured with his pistol.

The three friends looked at each other warily for a moment before moving to remove the slab. They carefully eased one portion of the heavy stone back and let it slip to the floor on the opposite side as carefully as they could. They moved on to the other half and repeated the task. When they had finished, the skeleton of Xena lay before them. Janice cursed silently as she noted the skull and right shoulder had been damaged by the impact of the excavator. The rest of the skeleton was, however, in pristine condition. A few scraps of leather still clung to the body. By the right hand lay a corroded sword, and some kind of metal disk lay on the pelvic region. On the left side of the body, between thigh and forearm lay the remains of an alabaster box, complete with inscription.

"It's magnificent!" shrieked Vogt, staring into the casket. He reached in and pulled free the corroded sword. Janice gasped as the small bones of the hand immediately disarticulated.

"What do you think you are doing? You're destroying the evidence!"

"What evidence? It's a skeleton, not a murder scene Covington," he growled, reaching in again for the metal disk. The pelvis collapsed. Janice silently fumed; Mel and Karl looked on in disbelief.

"Ah, the weapons of the ancients!" mused Vogt, "Puny things really, in comparison to what we now have," he brandished his Luger, "but these, I'm sure, once cleaned will make a petty picture in the Pergamom. Don't you agree?" he asked, casting a chill glance at the three figures. He noticed Mel was staring into the sarcophagus.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded, following her gaze, "Ah, something I missed, with a story to tell too," he said as he noted the inscription on the top of the alabaster box, "You are the translator Miss Pappas, please, indulge me?" he asked, indicating the box with his pistol.

Mel cast a nervous glance to Janice and then back at the box, "Ah, the text is difficult to read in its current position Captain."

"Then remove it Miss Pappas."

"I...ah-"

"Remove it!" Vogt thundered, wildly waving his gun.

Mel jumped and reached with shaking hands into the sarcophagus. She managed to pull the box free and set it on the side of the casket.

"Is that better Miss Pappas? Can you read it now?" Vogt asked derisively.

"Ah yes, yes I can," Mel sent a warning look in Janice's direction. The archaeologist gave her a questioning glance in return.

"Then read it Melinda."

Mel had no choice but to comply when she felt the cold steel of the Captain's Luger against her temple. Mel flicked nervous eyes to the man staring at her with hatred and cleared her throat. She looked down at the box and frowned before she began to read.

"Ah. 'They buried my warrior in winter, as the first snows came to comfort my grief. I bury with her this spearhead as a gesture of my devotion, and in hope of its eternal rest. This is my heart, my strength, and I can think of no greater protector. Gabrielle, Amazon Queen.'"

"Goddamn..." breathed Janice as Mel finished reading.

"So much for eternal rest. Open the box Miss Pappas."

For some bizarre reason, Mel grinned, "Of course Captain," she said with good grace. A slight look of confusion fluttered across Vogt's face, before he was struck in the side of the head with a heavy piece of alabaster. He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"That's twice in one day Vogt," Mel sneered as she pulled the spear head free of it's casing and shoved it into her belt, not even bothering to look closely at it.

Vogt groaned in response on the floor.

"C'mon Mel, quit talking to your victims will you, we gotta go," Janice shouted as Vogt stirred on the floor.

They made it as far as the base of the scaffolding before they heard an outraged scream from behind the sarcophagus. Janice glanced back. Vogt was mobile and weaving around holding a hand to his bloodied head.

"You!" Vogt yelled as he focussed on the fleeing figures, "I'll kill you all!" he aimed his pistol haphazardly and peppered a few rounds in their general direction as they scrambled up the scaffolding. The shots ricocheted off the metal beams, sparks flying. Vogt screamed again when he realised that the three were still moving. Taking more careful aim, he fired again.

Janice cried out when she felt a lancing pain through her upper right arm. She involuntarily let go of the scaffolding above her and would have fallen had Karl not reached out to grab her.

"C'mon Janice, we've gotta climb."

Janice nodded, ignoring the throbbing pain and blood that trickled down her arm. She clung on as best she could. Somehow the three of them made it to the top without further injury. They dragged themselves out of the hole and stood breathing heavily on the top of the mound as Vogt raged below. Janice bent over, gasping for breath. The pain in her arm was making her feel dizzy.

"My car," said Mel.

"Hang on; give me a minute will you?" Janice mumbled as she looked up and tried to focus on the translator. Why couldn't she focus?

"Oh Sweet Jesus! Janice! You're hurt," Mel said, rushing over to the woman.

"It's nothing...really," Janice said. Her voice sounded far away in her ears. She squinted at Mel before collapsing to the ground.

"Dear Lord, Janice!" Mel shouted, sinking to the dirt, shaking the archaeologist. "Karl? We've got to get her out of here."

"Oh God, no." the burly man howled as he swept Janice over his shoulder and raced down the mound, Mel mere inches behind him.

He bundled Janice into the back seat of Mel's car and jumped in after her, cradling her limp head on his shoulder. Mel dove into the driver's seat and gunned the engine. She could hear shouting from the top of the mound and assumed Vogt had surfaced.

"Go!" shouted Karl from the back seat and Mel floored the accelerator. They flew off in a cloud of dust. Exactly where they were going, Mel had no idea. She just drove. Her mind was reeling from the recent events, and Janice was lying in the back seat, bleeding.

"C'mon Jan, you're going to be okay," Karl was saying in a shaky voice as he ripped off Janice's bloody sleeve, "See, look, it's only a small wound, bullet went right through." He stripped off his own shirt and ripped a few strips off the bottom. He cleaned Janice's wound as best he could and tied it tightly with the makeshift bandage. The small archaeologist groaned in unconsciousness as Karl tied the cloth off.

"Don't mean to hurt you Jan. What did you have to get in the way of that bullet for?" he asked.

Mel checked them quickly in her rear vision mirror and did a double take as she saw tears sliding down Karl's face. She took a sharp turn at speed, slamming them into the side of the car.

"Jesus woman! Be careful would you?" Karl yelled at her.

"Don't yell at me!" Mel shot back, "Where are we going? Vogt'll be after us in no time. Is Janice all right?" she asked more softly.

"I'm sorry Mel. Head to the port, I'll wrangle us a boat. Jan'll be fine, it's just the pain, I think," he said stiffly.

Mel nodded, but inwardly broke into tears; Janice was going to be okay. She checked her mirror again. She sighed as she took another corner.

"Karl," she said hoarsely, "You... and Janice...?"

Karl sniffed and flushed, wiping tears from his face. He glared into Mel's eyes through the mirror. He snorted. "Stupid fool I am, I love her," he brushed Janice's fringe away from her eyes, "but, she could never...want me...the way I want her"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Karl, I had no idea..." she trailed off.

"No, nor does she. We're friends Mel, that's all, and that's the way it's gonna stay, okay?" Mel flicked her eyes back to the road and nodded. She felt terrible, but her response was cut short when an armoured vehicle pulled into her line of sight in the side mirror.

"Oh my! I think we've got a problem," she said, feeling the spearhead grow hot against her thigh.

Karl turned to stare out the back window and immediately ducked down behind the back seat just as a hail of bullets punched into the rear of the car. Mel swerved the vehicle to from side to side.

"Don't worry, Argo's built like a tank," she shouted over the din of squealing tyres.

"Argo?" Karl shouted back.

"I'll explain later. Under the seat, there's a box. Daddy always did like to be prepared."

Karl carefully set his unconscious charge to the side and reached under the back seat. He pulled out a sizeable wooden box and opened it. He stared mindlessly at two Browning 9mm pistols nestled in the case.

"That's not going to stop an armoured vehicle Mel."

Suddenly the back window blew out with a terrifying crash. Karl threw himself over Janice as shattered glass rained down on them.

"Then again, I can always give it a go," he muttered as he righted himself and slapped the magazines into the weapons. He cocked each in turn, loading a bullet into the chamber. If these things were fully loaded, he figured he'd have about thirty rounds. Twisting in the seat, he crouched low and off to the side, using as much of the car for cover as he could. He fired off several rapid shots, but they bounced harmlessly from the encroaching vehicle, they didn't even leave a dent.

"Shit!" he cursed, aiming higher. Maybe he could get the driver. His next shots shattered the windscreen of the vehicle. The driver ducked and the unwieldy vehicle swerved left. Karl had a clear shot. Aiming carefully he pulled the trigger. The surprised driver clutched at his chest, and for a moment their eyes met. Karl realised with shock that it was the man he had saved earlier from the excavator, and then the vehicle ran off the road and crashed into the side of a house.

"What the bloody hell is going on around here," Janice said as she pushed herself upright in the back seat, flicking discarded bullet casings and bits of glass from her chest.

"Jan!" Karl yelled, grabbing hold of the woman and kissing her soundly on the mouth, "You're okay!"

"Arghh! No, I feel like shit, and what did you have to go and do that for?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Sorry, guess I got carried away," he blushed.

"You back with us Janice?" Mel asked from the driver's seat, flicking her gaze into the rear vision mirror.

"Yeah, you bet you're ass sweetheart," the archaeologist grinned.

"Good, because there's another one coming up behind us.

"Another what?"

"Duck!" Karl shouted as several bullets whistled through the back window and embedded themselves in the front seats.

"Mel! Are you okay up there?" Karl yelled noting with horror the bullet hole in the driver's seat.

"I'm fine, but you gotta get him off me, we're almost at the port," she yelled back, trying not to notice the thin plume of smoke that wafted up from the dash directly to her right.

Karl handed Janice one of the pistols and the two of them set about trying to dislodge the insistent vehicle behind them.

"I'm out," yelled Karl as his last shot blew a tyre on the vehicle behind. It swerved dangerously but the driver managed to wrestle it back under control. Janice took out one of the gunmen, sending him cart wheeling onto the road. She aimed again but suddenly realised the breech was in the open position. She swore, flinging the gun to the seat.

"Shit! So am I," she shouted, ducking fully behind the back seat. All they could do now was wait.

Mel shrieked as one of the back tyres was blown out, and the wheel wrenched from her grasp. Gritting her teeth, she managed to regain some control.

"We're almost there, hang on!" she yelled as she floored the accelerator and the car burst out into the dock area. She swung the wheel sharply and slammed on the brakes. They spun to a halt just ahead of the armoured vehicle.

"Everybody out!" she yelled, clambering from the car.

"This way!" Karl shouted, pulling Janice in the direction of one of the piers.

The three of them bolted down the pier and Karl jumped on to a fairly sizeable boat.

"C'mon!" he gestured to the two women who jumped in quickly behind him. He glanced up to see the armoured vehicle slam into the side of Mel's abandoned car with a deafening crash, pushing it over the side and into the water. "I can get another one made," the Southerner said absently, "This your boat Karl?"

"No, we're just borrowing it from a friend of mine," he said, untying the boat from the side of the pier, "Hang on guys." He dashed to the helm, started the motor and sent up a shower of water as he sped out into the Aegean Sea.

"Where the hell are we going anyway?" he asked after they had put a reasonable distance between the port and themselves.

Janice looked up from where she was sitting on the deck and glanced at the spearhead still secured in Mel's belt.

"We've got to get that spear some place safe."

Karl laughed, "Don't tell me this is the mission from Artemis?"

Mel looked guilty and Janice glared at her, "You heard Mel's translation of the case Karl, and look at how she acted back there. The strength and the heart of the Amazon, Karl."

Karl snorted, "Don't you think you're over reacting?"

"Janice has a point, I do feel a little...empowered," Mel said softly.

"That's called adrenalin Melinda, not the power of the Amazon."

"Here," she said, "take this," she pulled the spearhead out of her belt and handed it to Karl. His eyes widened when his fingers touched the corroded metal and he cleared his throat, letting out a long breath.

"Okay, I see what you mean," he said nodding, handing the weapon back to Mel quickly, "but I ah, Jesus, think it's a women's only thing," he said in a small voice, turning away embarrassed. Mel blushed furiously and Janice burst into laughter despite the pain in her arm.

"Strength and heart of the Amazon all right!" she laughed, amused by Karl's rather obvious predicament. "No wonder Achilles got shot with an arrow if he was running around in that state," she doubled over, holding her sides.

"Why don't you two go down below and rest or something."

"Sure Karl, and by the way, we're going to Ephesus."

"Ephesus? No, it's alright, I don't want to know."

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Chapter 13

"Ambition is a worthy attribute Captain, if it is for a worthy cause." SS-Standartenführer Müller glared down at the slumped figure of Vogt sitting opposite.

"Yes Colonel," the man muttered.

"And now, I have been forced from my regular duties to come here and deal with your incompetence," The Colonel leaned forward, dark eyes darkening. He slammed a fist down on Vogt's desk. The Captain jumped. "This is not acceptable Captain," he shouted.

"Sir!" Vogt tried to straighten up.

The Colonel continued, "You were beaten...twice...by a woman Captain...the same woman. Are you trying to make a laughing stock of the SS?"

"No Colonel! They...they have stolen a valuable artefact belonging to the Reich, Colonel."

Müller leaned back in his chair, "Then I suggest you find it...Captain, before I decide to make you a Sergeant."

________________________________________

Mel was poking around in the small cabin below deck, "There has to be some alcohol in this place somewhere?" she was saying, shoving her head into a cupboard. Janice was sitting on the side of a small bed glaring at the woman.

"Mel, it's fine, it's a clean wound."

"Don't be silly Janice, I'll not have you dying of some stupid infection, and that bandage will hardly do," she muttered opening another cupboard, "Ah, just what we need," she pulled out a half empty bottle of scotch and waved it triumphantly.

"Oh yeah, just what I need!" Janice yelled, a grin plastered to her face as she jumped up and grabbed the bottle from the Southerner. She unscrewed the cap and took a healthy swig, letting out a guttural sigh of pleasure.

"Janice! It's to clean your wound, not to get you pickled."

"Cleaned, pickled, it's all the same," Janice said taking another drink before Mel wrenched the bottle from her grasp.

"Now sit down over there!" Mel said sternly, pointing to the bed.

"Yes ma'am!" Janice grinned, raising an eyebrow as she sauntered to the small bed.

"Stop it."

Mel found some clean towels and ripped one into several strips as she moved over to the archaeologist and removed the temporary bandage.

"Now I suppose this is going to hurt some," she said, up-ending the scotch bottle and pouring some of the amber liquid onto the towel. She gently dabbed at the entry wound and Janice winced, hissing through her teeth.

"No kidding," she breathed.

"Don't be such a baby," Mel said, working now on the exit wound.

"Mel! Ow! I've been shot, ow! Not grazed my knee."

"I know," Mel discarded the bloody towel and wrapped a fresh strip around the wound. She gazed into the archaeologist's eyes, "And don't you ever do that again."

"Yes ma'am." Janice mumbled before she felt the translator's lips brush against her own. Mel pushed her slowly back against the bed, mindful of Janice's injured arm.

"Because you know," Mel kissed her softly again, "I never want to lose you Janice Covington." Mel could taste scotch on the woman's lips.

"You don't know that Mel."

Mel grasped the smaller woman's lips more firmly in her own as she knelt over the prone woman. Slowly Mel pulled away, biting lightly on Janice's lower lip. She smoothed hair from the archaeologist's face and smiled down at her.

"I do know, I know it in my soul. Still need to think?" the Southerner asked.

Janice stared at her for a moment, "I...I..."

"I want to be with you Janice. Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes...but Mel, it's Karl. I think he..."

"I know, he told me."

Janice sat up, pushing the Southerner away slightly, "Don't you see? I could be..." she trailed off.

Mel sniggered and shook her head, "Normal? Is that what you were going to say?"

Janice nodded, turning her head away from the translator. Mel dragged the archaeologist's gaze back to her.

"Janice, nothing you ever do will be normal. You are the most remarkable woman I know. I'd rather be alone for the right reasons than with someone for the wrong reasons Janice. Karl knows that too, and he's made his peace. He knows who you are and what you feel."

"He told you this?"

Mel nodded, stroking the side of the archaeologist's face, "You don't honestly think he sent us down here so we could sleep do you?" she smiled knowingly.

"Oh."

"Good," Mel whispered as she leant down to push Janice back on the bed. Her tongue slid behind the back of Janice's ear and down her neck lightly. She gasped as the Southerner bit down on the strong vein throbbing in her neck, a shudder of desire running straight to her groin.

"Oh God!" Janice clutched at the translator above her pulling her down into a strong embrace. Their lips locked one more as Janice twisted a leg over Mel's. Mel broke the kiss and began working on the buttons of Janice's shirt, planting feather-like kisses on the woman's neck and further down to the top of her breasts as she went. The shirt open, Mel pulled back to view the archaeologist. She cupped Janice's breasts through her bra and massaged them gently. Janice groaned and pushed up into Mel's caressing hands.

Mel bent back down and took one of Janice's nipples in her mouth through the fabric of her bra, while still massaging the other breast with the palm of her hand. She raked her teeth lightly over the soft cloth and felt Janice shudder. The woman's erect nipples were straining painfully against the fabric in their sensitised state and Janice thought she would lose her mind for wanting to feel all of Mel's mouth.

"Take it off," she moaned.

Mel did more than that, she literally ripped the brassiere clear of Janice breasts, causing the smaller woman to cry out and arch upward from shock and passion. Mel smiled wickedly and descended once more on Janice's breasts, sucking one nipple and then the other alternately into her mouth. Janice could feel the pulling sensation right to her core and she writhed beneath the woman above her, calling out in harsh whispers.

Mel kissed the underside of Janice's breasts and glided downward, pinching the small woman's nipples between her fingers as she went. She lavished attention on Janice's ribs and hard muscles of her abdomen before stopping to undo Janice's belt and buttons of her pants. Sometime during this, Mel felt the archaeologist's hands pawing at the buttons of her shirt, desperate to get them undone. Mel left the pants to help her, stripping off the confining fabric and quickly discarding her own bra.

Janice groaned when Janice's breasts were revealed. She reached out a hand to caress them and felt Mel tremble at her touch. She smiled as the Southerner continued to work on her trousers, delighting in the feel of Mel's flesh.

The smile disappeared from her face to be replaced by a look of pure lust when Mel slid a hand beneath her boxers.

"Melinda!" she groaned as she felt one of Mel's fingers slip between her outer labia. She arched off the bed and pulled her trousers and boxers to below her knees. She couldn't get then off because of her boots, but she didn't care, Mel's touch was all she needed right now.

Mel, however, had other ideas. She removed her hand much to the disappointment of the archaeologist and kissed the curly blond hairs of Janice's mound. Janice grunted in frustration. Mel quickly unlaced Janice's boots and discarded the unwanted pieces of hide before peeling off the archaeologist's trousers and underwear. She let them fall to the floor of the cabin and franticly removed her own boots and pants.

Both now naked, Mel pulled Janice to a sitting position facing her and cupped one of her breasts as she moved in to kiss archaeologist's lips. Mel felt hands on her breasts and the two women pushed in closer to each other, desperate for more contact. Mel snaked a hand down between Janice's legs, and felt the small woman mimicking her action. They each shuddered at the connection.

"Mel, I...I...oh Jesus!" Janice gasped as Mel encircled her clitoris with a smooth finger and began to stroke slowly back and forth. Janice arched into the woman, her hips moving of their own accord. She in turn stroked at Mel's.

Mel emitted a low cry and rested her head against the archaeologist's shoulder as they rocked in time with each other.

"Oh my! Janice, arrghh...what you do...to me." Mel moaned, stroking more furiously, feeling her own need rise fiercely with her. Her breath was coming in short gasps, but she needed to be inside Janice before she released. Moving her hand down, she circled Janice's opening with a finger, barely concentrating as the responses of her body tried to take over from her mind. She heard Janice cry out as she inserted two long fingers into the soaked opening. Her own release pending, it was all Mel could do to keep time with the archaeologist as she slammed her hips down ferociously onto Mel's hand. A few strokes more and Mel had it, she exploded, shuddering violently, her body throbbing with release. She grabbed hold of the archaeologist's shoulder with her free hand and screamed. Janice was right behind her, clamping down on Mel's fingers and jerking uncontrollably.

Twitching from the after shocks, Mel was struck by the overwhelming desire to taste Janice. She left the archaeologist no time to recover as she pushed her back roughly on the bed. Janice shrieked, gasping for breath as she felt Mel's mouth on her.

"Mel...stop...can't...breath!" she rasped and let out another cry as the translator moved to her still aching clitoris, nipping it lightly between her teeth. Mel continued her assault, sucking at the sensitive flesh. Despite Janice's attempts to slow herself down and regain some semblance of control, she found her body more than willing to respond to Mel's actions. She cried out as a wave of desire shuddered through her. She was building again and all she could do was grunt wantonly as her head thrashed from side to side on the narrow bed. Finally she arched desperately into the Southerner and bellowed out her second release as her body collapsed back onto the bed. Her breath was harsh in her throat and her heart pounded in her ears. She could still feel Mel's mouth as her body pulsed with satisfaction.

At last Mel pulled herself up to lie half on Janice and half on the bed. She kissed the archaeologist thoroughly.

Janice gasped, chest heaving, "Oh God, Mel...insane...never felt...oh God!" she whimpered, smothering her face in the Southerner's shoulder.

"It's okay," the Southerner crooned, stroking Janice's back lightly.

Spooned together, as they were they both fell into a satisfied sleep.

Mel awoke she knew not how much later in the pitch dark to the sound of loud groaning. She felt for Janice, but the woman was not next to her as she expected.

"Janice," she whispered, "Where are you?"

Her question was met by the slap of an arm against her face as she sat up. She grunted, but followed the arm to the rest of Janice who was bent double on the side of the bed.

"Did I ever tell you that I don't travel too well on boats?" Janice husked.

"You seemed okay before," Mel said, rubbing her hand over the archaeologist's back.

"Yeah, well I was kinda preoccupied," she groaned again, "I think I was sick in one of your boots. Sorry."

Mel blanched in the darkness, "I'm sure it'll wash right out Janice. Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe some water?"

"Sure," Mel rose and stumbled around for a while trying to locate her clothes in the darkness. She pulled on a pair of trousers only to realise they were Janice's, "Darn it!" she cursed stripping the ill-fitting garment off. She eventually found her own clothes and headed out the door and up the small set of stairs to the deck.

She found Karl lounging at the wheel smoking a cigarette.

"You know, you two could have been a little quieter down there for my sake," he said as he spied Mel. The woman blushed in the artificial light of the helm.

"Sorry," she said.

"And you could have at least buttoned your shirt correctly."

Mel looked down to see the uneven arrangement of her shirt. She tugged at it but let her hand drop by her side.

"Look Karl, I really am sorry. I...I know how you feel about her, but...it was going to happen," she hoped she didn't sound too cold.

Karl took a final, harsh drag on his cigarette before flicking the butt over the side. He blew smoke out in a plume and looked at Mel sideways.

"I know. I just wanted to beat myself up about it for a while."

Mel dropped her gaze to the floor and shoved her hands in her pockets. She felt like jumping overboard. This man was hurting. How could he even look at her?

Karl rose and walked over to the stricken woman, "Hey Mel," he said, lifting her chin with a finger, "I know it sounds stupid, but I'm happy for her, and you," he snorted in amusement and shook his head. "If you can make her...Jan being happy is what makes me happy okay? It doesn't matter so much that it's not with me."

"Karl..." Mel choked and wrapped him in a fierce hug, "You're too good to be a man, where'd you come from?"

He laughed and returned the hug, "New York, and I like being a man."

Mel smiled and pulled away wiping a tear from her eye, "Uh, have we got any water up here? Janice isn't feeling too well."

"I think there's a barrel some place. Here we go," he said, locating the supply of water and dishing some out into a nearby container, "I forgot that Jan gets sea sick."

Mel grinned, "In my boots," she looked down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes.

"No!" Karl said scandalously.

Mel nodded and became sober, "You know a lot about her don't you?"

"Yeah I know a lot about her," he handed the water to Mel, "You take this down to her, and here, take the flashlight, must be dark down there."

"Thanks," she mumbled as she took the items.

"And Mel, we've got to stop at the next port for fuel. Vogt knows we have to stop sometime and that we've gone east. He may have called ahead."

Mel nodded, crashing back to reality, "How long?"

"About an hour."

________________________________________

Chapter 14

"Shit!" swore Vogt as he heard the words through his field radio, "When were they last spotted?" A pause, "I see, well get the damn officer in charge on the goddamn radio and tell him to stop them!" he yelled before slamming the receiver back in its cradle.

"Frans!" he called and a pimply looking youth immediately appeared in his office.

"Yessir?" the youth saluted, standing at attention.

Vogt rolled his eyes and returned the salute, "What ships do we have operating in the Aegean between here and the coast of Turkey?"

"I don't know sir, I can find out. But if the fugitives are in a small craft sir, they'll be hugging the coast. We can't get a destroyer or even a cruiser in there."

"I know that you idiot! Ever heard of radar?" The tenacity of youth disgusted him.

"Yessir. I'll radio the relevant vessels and locate the exact position of the fugitives, Sir."

"You do that Frans, you do that."

"Yessir, Heil Hitler!" the boy saluted again.

"'Tler," Vogt said, giving a half-hearted salute before waving the boy out.

________________________________________

"C'mon Janice, we've gotta get you dressed. We'll be stopping soon to refuel, can't have you running around on deck naked now can we?" Mel pleaded, trying to motivate the decidedly green archaeologist.

Janice retched into the bucket Mel had found and stabbed her with watering eyes.

"I'm not...running anywhere sweetheart unless it's off...this goddamn tub!" she heaved again.

"Here, you put this on." Mel draped Janice shirt over her shoulders and helped the archaeologist slip her good arm through as she clung to the bucket with her injured one.

"And now the other," she crooned.

"Ow! Shit! Mel, that's my arm," Janice protested.

"I know, dear, just trying to get your mind off your stomach."

Janice retched, "Thanks for reminding me."

This battle ensued for some fifteen minutes until Mel finally had Janice pretty much dressed. The trousers were a little difficult, but the lower extremities were a cinch until Mel got to the woman's boots.

"Ah Janice?"

"What?"

"You were sick in your own boot, not mine."

"Fuck! You're kidding me?"

"See for yourself," Mel shoved the offending item under Janice's nose and she reeled back.

"Arghh Mel, get it out of here!"

"I'll just go up on deck and give it a clean shall I?"

Janice glared at her and the Southerner had a hard time keeping a straight face as she stumbled up the stairs.

Mel returned momentarily with a rather sodden boot, "Sorry it's so wet Janice, but I had to sling it overboard," she apologised.

"I'll live," Janice said, holding out the corresponding foot.

Janice's footwear dealt with, Mel decided to deal with her own.

"Oh dear," Janice heard a disappointed voice from over the top of her bucket, "You were sick in mine."

If Janice had not felt so rotten she would have laughed.

Up on deck, Karl throttled down on the engine and brought the boat to a gliding stop. He pulled the vessel around so they were lying parallel to the nearby shore. Water slapped idly at the sides of the boat. Janice and Mel were sitting near the helm when the boat came to a stop. Mel had the spear once more stuck in her belt.

"That's where we have to be," Karl said, turning to them and pointing to series of lights in the distance, "It's the last stop on the Greek mainland before we head into really open water and across to Turkey."

Janice nodded, the fresh night air was clearing her head somewhat, but she still looked a wreck.

"We'd better get going then," she croaked. It was risky, but they had no choice, they'd never make it across to Ephesus without refuelling. Being stranded in the middle of the Aegean Sea was not an option as far as she was concerned.

A small, swarthy man came rushing up to secure the boat as they pulled in to the dock.

"You are de Cardi?" he asked Karl as he looped the rope around the iron post.

"Who wants to know?"

"They know you will be here. The SS are coming," he threw a fuel line over into the boat and Karl shoved it in place.

"You must take extra barrels," the man said and motioned for a couple of men to load the items.

"You were waiting for us?" Karl asked in disbelief at the activity raging around the small craft.

"Yes, I intercepted a radio call. You got here just ahead of them."

As if the man's words were prophetic, Karl heard the roar of machinery in the distance.

"Can't this thing pump any faster?" he asked as several armoured vehicles rumbled into view, "Oh shit! Jan! Mel! Get below," Karl shouted as the lead vehicle swung its machine gun in their direction.

"I'm staying just where I am Karl," Janice shot back as she helped one of the men roll a barrel of fuel onto the deck.

"Don't be an idiot! What are you going to do Janice? Piss on them?" he hit the deck as a hail of bullets spattered into the wooden dock, splinters flying, "Jesus, if they hit us, we're gonna blow!"

"And you think I'll be safer below deck?" Janice screamed as another volley of bullets hit, closer this time, "Mel! Stay down!" she yelled to the Southerner as she scrambled about on the deck.

"C'mon, c'mon, fill Goddamn you," Karl ordered the tank as men piled out of the armoured cars and ran in their direction, spreading out along the dock. Fuel bubbled up and Karl shut off the valve, ripping the line clear of the tank. He threw it back over the side with one hand and closed the tank with the other as the swarthy man untied the vessel.

"Move de Cardi!" the man yelled as Karl gunned the engine. He pushed the throttle full forward and sped out of the dock; hearing the whistle and slap of bullets hit the water around him.

"Arghhh!" Vogt screamed, throwing the field radio across the room. What was this, The Keystone Kops?

"Frans!" he bellowed and waited for the youth to enter his office.

"Yessir?" The boy paled at the site of his commanding officer's enraged expression and flicked an uncertain glance to the broken field radio lying by the door.

Vogt took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, "Do you have their position?"

"Uh, yessir, if they hold their current route...." the boy trailed off seeing Vogt's face turn a darker shade of red,."They are heading for Ephesus sir," he said weakly.

"Ephesus..." Vogt breathed. At least he had a final position. If he couldn't catch them, he'd wait for them, with a bargaining tool in case they tried to escape.

"Excellent," he leaned over his desk, spearing the pimply youth with a fierce gaze, "Now you, get me a plane."

________________________________________

Chapter 15

Karl de Cardi sat motionless at the wheel of the small boat, his head lolling to the side in sleep. Consequently he didn't hear as Mel came up behind him and began to knead his shoulders.

"C'mon big guy, you've got to get some sleep."

"What? Where's Jan?"

"She's below, sleeping, which is what you should be doing. I can point us in the right direction for a while."

Karl pushed himself upright in his chair and took a deep breath, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He looked at Mel with bleary eyes.

"You're right, I do need sleep," he rose, "Just keep the compass on this heading and you should be okay. Thanks Mel," he patted her on the shoulder as he headed below.

Karl took one look at the narrow bed and the sprawling figure of Janice and shook his head. He pulled his boots off, suddenly conscious of his still naked chest. 'Bugger it!' he thought as he curled up next to the woman, he wasn't going to sleep on the floor. He almost changed his mind however, when Janice shifted in her sleep, wrapping her arms about his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed, "Mel's right, I'm too good to be man," he mumbled, turning out of Janice's embrace to fall into a fitful sleep.

________________________________________

"You seem to have handled things pretty well up here Mel," Janice heard Karl say as she stumbled up the stairs onto the deck the next morning. She still wasn't feeling so great, but maybe she had found one of her sea legs.

"Why thank you Karl. She's refuelled, and if I'm not mistaken, that's the coast of Turkey," she said pointing into the rising sun, "Sea was a bit choppy last night but I managed her okay."

"You sail?"

"Well, I used to with my Daddy, but no, not recently," a sadness washed over the blue of Mel's eyes, but it was quickly gone when she spied Janice, "Janice! You sleep okay?"

"I would have," she said moving over to wrap Mel in an embrace, "if that lummox over there didn't try and squash me."

"What do you mean? I was the one who had to untangle myself from your arms," he said good-naturedly.

"Oh really?" Mel looked down at Janice who bore a sheepish grin.

"Must have thought he was you."

The Southerner smirked and glanced at Karl, "An easy mistake to make Janice," she managed before bursting into laughter.

Karl cleared his throat and headed to the wheel.

Karl pulled the small boat in to shore a little way from port just before midday. Even if they didn't see any Nazis he wanted to play it safe. They'd have to hike wherever they were going, but it was better than being caught.

"Jesus I'm starved," muttered Janice as she stumbled over the side of the boat onto solid ground.

"Well, when this thing is over, I'll take you both out to dinner," Karl said with a grin as he jumped out, making the change from rolling boat to earth smoothly.

"Janice? Where are we going?" Mel asked, ignoring the two of them. If she as much as thought about food right now she'd become a cannibal.

Janice looked around for a moment before pointing, "That way, to the Temple of Artemis."

"I might have known," Karl grumbled.

After what seemed like an eternity to Mel of scrabbling and stumbling, they finally made it the three miles inland to the ruins of the Temple of Artemis. Only a single column and a few foundations remained of the once magnificent structure. The Christians in 401 C.E. had literally torn down the temple. Yet it was not until the late nineteenth century that it was 'plundered' by archaeologists, with bits and pieces of it now residing in various museums.

Mel shook her head, "So much for one of the Seven Wonders of the World," she mumbled, fingering the Amazon spearhead at her waist. This was the temple of the Amazon's protective deity, supposedly founded by the Amazons themselves. Janice had obviously figured that if the spear was going to be safe anywhere, it would be here. Strange how Janice hadn't even as much as laid a finger on the thing since they escaped from Xena's tomb. Strange how Gabrielle buried it with Xena. Strange how all of them were willing to put their faith in this ancient goddess...

Mel shook herself from her musings and focussed on following the other two to the ruins.

________________________________________

"Where is she?" ask Vogt for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had two sharp shooters placed in the undergrowth around the temple remains, and they were getting restless. So was he. He paced about sneering.

"You looking for me, Vogt? Or are you looking for this?" Janice asked, holding out her hand to Mel for the spearhead as she stepped over some rubble behind Vogt. She felt a subtle shudder run through her as her fingers locked around the weapon.

"Covington!" Vogt exploded after whirling to greet the archaeologist, "And the rest of the rabble," he cast a rabid eye over the other two.

"Hope we didn't put you out or anything."

"Give me the spear, Covington."

Janice laughed, "It would appear that powers of negotiation are not a requirement for entry to the SS."

"Give me the spear," Vogt repeated, a little more harshly.

"Uh-uh. What's to prevent you from shooting us all after you have the spear? You call off the goons first."

Mel and Karl jumped in shock, not realising they were targets. They scanned but could see nothing.

"What's to prevent me from shooting you all now and picking the spear from your bullet ridden corpse?!" Vogt shot back.

"No, no Vogt, that would be dishonourable. I assume you joined the SS for honour, to have people look up to you? A soldier above soldiers. What would they say if they found out you shot two defenceless women and a man for a bit of metal? Yet then again you had no qualms about dragging poor Hector's corpse around for twelve days. Was it merely the thrill of the hunt? I'm afraid the swiftness of your feet has done you little good this time. The situation is bad enough as it is, isn't it?" she teased, walking up to the remaining column and caressing it. "You were usually quicker to comply with the wishes of the Gods than this. What changed?"

The man glared at her wildly but raised his arm, indicating his men should put up their weapons. He squinted at the archaeologist and laughed, "You're demented."

Janice shook her head, "You don't who you are? You are the runner Vogt, don't you remember? What of all the others you have loved? What of Deidamia, Briseis, Polyxena, Medea, and Iphigenia. Why is it only Penthesilea you remember?"

"What are you talking about?" he husked, silent and unmoving.

"Ligyron, Pyrrha...Achilles," Janice said slowly as she walked around the Ionic column. Mel and Karl stared at her in disbelief.

Vogt smiled and let out a nervous laugh, suddenly he didn't feel so great, "Achilles?" he shook his head, "Enough of this stupidity," Vogt cocked his head to the side, "Shoot them!" he ordered.

Janice's eyes grew wide and she flung herself to the ground. Mel and Karl threw themselves in opposite directions in search of cover behind scattered pieces of rubble.

"I said shoot them, goddammit. Fire, damn you, fire!" Vogt shouted.

"My weapon will not fire sir," a hidden voice said, followed by a second repeating the statement.

"What do you mean your weapon will not fire?" he thundered over to the far side of the temple remains and grabbed the rifle from the man emerging from a bush. He checked it, aimed at a scrabbling de Cardi and depressed the trigger. Nothing happened. He checked the weapon again and flung it away as useless. He ran over to the other sharp shooter and tried his weapon, same problem.

"Why are you all just staring at me?" Vogt screamed as he whirled about. Janice had picked herself up off the ground now that the imminent danger had passed.

"You've got your hands haven't you?" Vogt screamed at the sharp shooters, "Get them."

That seemed to move the two soldiers; they rushed at Karl and Mel, while Vogt turned to engage Janice. The archaeologist had time to register the crazed figure of Vogt running towards her before she was tackled to the ground, landing heavily on her injured arm. She cried out and tried to squirm out of the hold the man had around her legs. He pulled her to him roughly and straddled her, pinning her shoulders to the ground.

"Hello Covington," he said, back handing her across the face, "You going to give me that spear yet?"

Janice spat blood in the deranged man's face. He wiped at it with the back of his hand.

"Why are you doing this Vogt? Why the obsession? Think. Remember," she said as her own blood ran down his face.

Vogt stared at her with cold eyes, "I am under orders to retrieve the property of the German Reich Covington," he reached down towards the spearhead held tightly in the archaeologist's hand. Janice met his malignant stare.

"You are the runner, I know you."

"You don't know me Covington," dark fear clouded his vision; something was pulling at his soul. Vogt shuddered and grunted, shaking his head against blood coloured images.

"I know you," Janice repeated, "you killed her."

He sneered and nodded slowly, licking his lips, "That's right, I loved her you bitch, and I killed her! Just like I'm going to kill you! Don't you understand? She's in here!" Vogt beat at his chest, "and I can't get rid of her...The spear is mine!" he raged as he slammed Janice's head against the stone floor.

Janice saw stars as pain exploded behind her eyes, but she managed to hold on to consciousness as Vogt brought his fist up, giving Janice the opening she needed. She plunged the corroded weapon deep into Vogt's left eye. He let out a blood-curdling howl and scrabbled at his face as the remains of his ruined eye trickled down, mixing with Janice's blood. Janice quickly pushed the injured man off her and thrust the bloodied spear with all her strength deep into the earth. It sunk in to the ground and disappeared from view. Janice managed to wrench her hand clear before it too was swallowed. Time seemed to slow and then to stop. Janice glanced around and saw that Vogt was frozen in the throes of pain. She looked at Mel and Karl who were collapsed on the ground, trying to extricate themselves from the dead weights of their immobile attackers.

"What the hell?"

"Janice! Get him off me, I'm stuck," she heard Mel yell out to her and snapped back to a semblance of reality. She ran over to the fallen Southerner and pulled at the hand clasped around the woman's upper arm. It however, took both her strength and Karl's to dislodge the claw-like appendage.

"What's going on?" asked Karl as he finally helped Mel to her feet. He had a bloodied lip, but otherwise seemed fine.

"Don't know. I shoved the spearhead into the ground and...this happened," Janice said distractedly as she was checking Mel over thoroughly for injuries. Finally the translator swatted Janice away.

"There's nothing wrong with me Janice! Stop it. If you want to do something, see to that lip of Karl's."

Thinking of how Mel had toppled Vogt earlier, she shouldn't have been surprised that the Southerner was okay.

She turned to Karl but he backed away, "Oh no, you hurt too much," he said, dabbing at his lip with the back of his hand.

"I see you three have found each other again," a voice filtered lazily through the temple.

Three figures turned as one to view a woman dressed in a simple chiton leaning leisurely against the altar.

"Thank you for the...blood offering."

"Artemis..." Janice breathed.

The goddess smiled, "You have the same voice. Come here child."

Janice glanced at her two companions, their mouths agape, before she walked on none too steady legs towards the woman leaning casually against the lone column.

"Ah, thanks for...whatever it was you did," Janice muttered as she neared the woman.

"It was in my own interest," the goddess said dismissively, "Let me look at you," she turned Janice around as if she was a long lost child.

"You have hardly changed, a little rough around the edges perhaps, but that's to be expected in this day and age I suppose."

"Hecate was right, I'm related to Gabrielle?" Janice asked, feeling the warmth and strength of the goddess' hands on her shoulders.

"Of course she was right child, I sent her. I can see the strength of that bard in you little one," the goddess shook her head, "Yet as Queen, Gabrielle disobeyed me by burying the spear with that warrior of hers. Stubborn! She thought it best at the time, yet who knows but the Morrae what lies ahead?"

Janice nodded dumbly.

"The spear was always intended for this temple. It was one of the reasons the Amazons built it," she said, glancing around at the ruins sadly. "You have brought fresh life to this house, little one, and avenged the death of Penthesilea. Achilles always was a blind fool. Lost love was his punishment. How he ended up in the Elysian Fields I'll never know. The Queen is pleased, as am I. Pity the world does not believe as it used," she mused.

Janice frowned, "But Achilles was a hero, how did he...?

The goddess laughed, "...fall from grace? You should not believe everything you read little one, you have much to learn of the old ways," Artemis shuddered, "I must go, I cannot hold this form for long these days."

"What about them?" Janice asked, indicating Vogt and the two SS sharp shooters.

"Trust me," the goddess whispered before she paled and vanished.

Janice stood there a moment, glancing at the space where Artemis had been before she reached out a hand and laid it on the column. Where the marble had been rough and chipped, the stone was now smooth and warm to the touch, as if it was alive. She shuddered and turned to face Mel and Karl.

"What did she mean, we've found each other again?" Karl asked staring at the altar.

"I don't know. How long do you think these things will last?" she walked over and prodded at the figure of Vogt, but jumped back coughing as the body collapsed in a pile of dust.

"Jesus!" she choked, "What a mess."

"Maybe we should get out of here?" Mel offered.

"You're on. Karl, don't you owe us a meal? I'm still starved," the archaeologist clutched at her stomach.

"Sure, just give me a minute to get my head around this. We were just paid a visit by Artemis in her temple, Vogt was Achilles and you're descended from an Amazon Queen," he said, licking at his split lip.

"That's right. Told you they were real," she glanced at Mel before linking arms with her two companions and hauling them from the temple in search of food.

________________________________________

Epilogue

"Goddamn Nazi swines, sonsofbitches!" Janice thundered as she stormed into Ida's office.

"Calm down Janice. If you will go spinning yarns to them, you have to expect an interrogation," Ida said, sipping some coffee.

"What do you mean yarns? I told Müller the truth. Vogt came after us in the temple like a lunatic, stole the spear and disappeared off the face of the earth."

"That's not what happened, Janice, and you know it."

"Yeah, well that's all those arse holes need to know. They can look for Vogt for all eternity as far as I care because that's how long it'll take."

Ida sighed and nodded, "How's that arm of yours?"

"It's fine. Why?"

"There's someone in your office to see you."

"Oh shit Ida, not now. Can you tell them to go away?" "Now why would you want to send me away?" asked a playful voice.

Janice spun and stared at the tall figure with the lop-sided grin.

"Indy!" she yelled dashing over to the man and punched him in the arm, "That was for Crete!" she punched him hard in the stomach and he let out a grunt, "and that was for not telling me you were coming," she said before hugging him.

"Gee, nice to know I was missed Janice. How've you been?" Indiana Jones asked, searching her eyes.

"Oh, pretty good."

Ida snorted at her desk as Indy looked over to her and nodded.

"I see. Well," he licked his lips, "I've got a proposition for you..."

"Oh Indy, didn't know you cared," she smiled, trying to bat her eyelids quite unsuccessfully, "but, alas, I'm taken."

The archaeologist frowned sideways at Janice before leaning down and whispering in her ear, "Ever heard of the Treasury of Magan?"

The End.