The Sword of Hephaestus by Archaeobard

Prologue

Macedonia c. 350 B.C.

The woman screamed in frustration as rubble fell from the walls, pinning her on her back. She could see that which she had desperately sought, glinting enticingly a few feet from her outstretched hand. She felt the broken bones of her shoulder grating as she strained to reach the object an impossibly short distance away. An unearthly fire burst through the room as the great God, Zeus sent lightning bolt after lightning bolt into the pile of rubble. She could feel the flesh melt from her bones, but still she lived. No longer could she scream, managing only a weak gurgle from her ruined throat. She felt herself separate and drift skyward. The last thing she heard was Zeus' laughter, and then all was quiet. She looked down on the scene from above as she continued to fly. Eventually Gaia was a mere speck in a sea of bright stars. Silently she shrieked against the blackness.

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Chapter One

Near Thessaloniki, Macedonia - May 1941.

"Stupid?stupid?stupid!"

Dr. Janice Covington sat on her cot in the dig tent she and translator Melinda Pappas shared, pounding a fist on her knee. The normally assertive archaeologist was almost in tears. They were helping Dr. John Mellard on a site in Macedonia of the same period as the Xena Scrolls; John was studying the architecture and Janice was after further evidence of Xena.

"How could I be so stupid!" she mumbled to herself. She was mortified, and had no idea how to rectify the situation. She wished with all her heart that she could take back what she had just done, but she knew this was impossible. She couldn't face Mel Pappas. For all her bravado, Janice was crying inside.

Janice had kept her emotions in check for the last month, knowing full well that her feelings for the translator would not be reciprocated, she knew, and yet she allowed it to happen, though she could not in all seriousness have prevented it. After all, she was sharing a tent with the woman she so desperately loved, loved so much it hurt. No one could blame her, she tried to reason. However, she had lost control. She had caught the woman in an embrace, and brushed her own lips over Mel's. It was a stupid thing to do. The Southerner had ended up giving Janice a stinging slap for her trouble. Mel had bolted from the tent and Janice had stood staring after her, fighting for calm.

"God! What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? Dumb Covington, really dumb! Je-sus, I'm gonna die. You've really lost it this time; lost her this time."

She sat, hugging herself, rocking back and forth, berating her sheer stupidity. She didn't hear the scratching at the tent flap indicating that someone was actually 'knocking on the door'.

"Dr. Covington!" Janice looked up to see John Mellard, the dig Director looming over her. He was a short, stocky man with a receding hairline and a permanent scowl attached to his face. Janice hung her head in her hands, "Oh God!" she said, turning red to the roots of her strawberry blonde hair.

"I will not have members of my staff assaulting other members of my staff. I do not care how you choose to live your life Covington, God knows, it's yours to do with as you please, but when that choosing disrupts the running of this dig I cannot abide it. Do I make myself clear?"

"I'm sorry, look, I'll leave in the morning," she said, not sounding like Janice Covington at all, but rather a guilty school girl.

"I'm not dismissing you, you idiot, you're too good an archaeologist for that, I need you. Just don't let it happen again. Mel's moving to another tent, and you will be working solo from now on."

Mellard turned to leave but Janice called him back, "Did I really upset her that much?" she asked with pleading eyes, she needed to know Mel was okay.

John looked at her, "Janice, she's from South Carolina for God's sake, what did you think you were doing?" he asked with a shake of his head.

"I wasn't John, I wasn't?I?never mind," was all she could say, hanging her head

"Well," it was obvious Janice was hurting, "get yourself cleaned up, dinner's on shortly, just don't sit next to her okay?"

Janice nodded and Mellard left the tent, shaking his head.

Janice sniffed loudly, sitting up straight. She was going to make it through this, she wasn't being fired, she just couldn't be anywhere near Mel. She straightened her hair, wiped her face on her sleeve and boldly sauntered out of her tent.

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Chapter Two

Dinner was a terrible affair. She sat as far away from Mel as possible, but couldn't help but look her way occasionally beneath her bangs. Janice was being ostracised. She suffered through the bland meal and left the tent quickly. She took one of her cigarillos from her breast pocket and started walking. She didn't know where she was going; she just had to get away. She wandered past the excavation site and stopped to stare at the stone walls protruding from the ground. The walls were strong structures, and had been built to last, but eventually everything ended up in ruins.

Janice shook her head, blowing smoke out in a blue grey plume. She found herself looking over the area for which she and Mel were responsible. She smiled as she remembered how well they worked together. Mel was a natural, she never got carried away, even when she found something spectacular. It was never ripped out and held aloft in triumph as some first year students were wont to do. If it was a gold statue or a pottery vessel, it was treated the same, uncovered, recorded, photographed. Only after the object was safely removed would she allow herself a smile of pride. This attitude was especially endearing to Janice as Mel was not a 'real' archaeologist, at least that's what many people said behind her back. She was a linguist, but she loved archaeology. Not content to simply sit and wait for manuscripts to come to her, she got out there and helped find them.

Janice sat down by the side of their trench, now her trench, and lost herself in thought. She could almost picture Mel bending over a delicate find or hacking with a pick, muscles set at full steam ahead. She worked so smoothly and fluidly as if this was something she was born to do. In truth, Janice was a little envious.

"Goddammit," she muttered, flinging her cigarillo butt over her shoulder, away from the trench, "this is not working." Slowly she rose, feeling tears begin to prick at her eyes. With a sigh she tried to push her emotions behind an immovable wall and headed back to her tent.

When she arrived, Mel's gear had been removed, the place looked bare, but there was a note on Janice's cot. She picked it up, noting Mel's flowing script. She dreaded what was inside, but she ripped it open with shaking hands.

Janice,

I should never have told Mellard. I don't know what came over me. I jeopardised your career, it's just that I didn't know. Understand? I'm sorry if I hurt you.

Mel

Janice shook her head. The woman was blaming herself! What was she thinking? Typical Mel, no one else could ever be wrong. Did she honestly think that she had initiated the incident? It was not acceptable; she had to speak to the woman. Janice hurried out of her tent, searching the other female accommodations until she found the one Mel was now staying in. Mel's now tent mate, Naomi, came to the flap as Janice scratched on it. She stood with her arms crossed; looking like nothing was going to get through her.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I?I have to speak with Mel," said Janice, holding her hat in her hands, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Your not welcome here Janice Covington, one attempted rape for the evening is sufficient," the voice was pure acid.

Something flared in Janice, "I didn't attempt to?" she realised she was shouting and lowered her voice to a near whisper, "to rape her, I only?." but she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

"It's alright Naomi," came a quiet voice from inside. Janice tried to peer around the woman blocking the door, "she can come in, we do need to talk," Mel said and motioned for Naomi to leave.

Naomi began to protest but thought better of it. She sniffed, giving Janice a glare as she sauntered from the tent.

"Hi," Janice said sheepishly as she stepped just inside the tent flap; she wanted to keep as much distance between them as she could. Mel was silent.

"Look, Mel?I?I'm sorry for earlier. Sometimes I just get carried away, it's been a long month," she hung her head. God that was lame, you really know the right things to say, don't you Covington?, "I want you to know that it wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything to?it wasn't your fault Mel."

"Janice?" Mel began, but was cut off.

"No Mel, let me finish, I have some things to say. You're in with Naomi now, and removed from my trench. I can understand you not wanting to have anything more to do with me; in fact, it's probably for the best. I just want you to understand that it was my fault. I'd never mean to hurt you in anyway, and it's obvious I've done that. There's nothing I can do or say to make up for my mistake. I?I won't bother you any more." Janice was half way out of the tent before Mel spoke.

"I didn't ask to be moved," Mel said and Janice stopped in mid stride, "It was John, he moved me and told me I won't be working with you any more."

Janice half turned, glancing nervously at the woman before her.

"You're my?friend?Janice Covington, one of the best friends I've ever had. I don't want that to end. I?I just wasn't expecting?I'm sorry I slapped you," Mel hung her head in shame.

Janice licked her lips and swallowed, "Well sweetheart, it's hardly the first time." Janice attempted to grin, but suddenly realised the words that had come out of her mouth, Just great! Now she'll think I'm cheap! Goddammit Covington, get a grip!

Mel looked up and saw the stricken look on Janice's face. She couldn't help herself, a half smile played at the corners of her mouth, then a snigger escaped.

"Ah Janice, that's one of the things I just can't help liking about you, you're just so?tactless."

This time Janice did manage a grin, an embarrassed grin, but it was still a grin, "Yeah well, I just want you to know that I deserved the slap, and I'll never do anything again to warrant another. I just need to know that you're alright," she turned to walk out the tent flap.

"Janice?"

"Yes, Mel?"

"I'll speak to John."

Janice smiled and nodded before exiting the tent. Naomi came busting back in as soon as she was gone, and Janice was sure the woman had been listening outside. Janice didn't care. She headed back to her own tent and sat smoking a cigarillo on her cot.

Okay Covington, so she didn't ask to be moved, fine. She doesn't want to lose me, great, good for her, but what the hell am I going to do? She's gonna kill me! With those thoughts Janice stubbed her cigarillo out on the ground, removed her boots and clothes and climbed into bed. She lay there staring up at the inside of the tent roof. She finally turned off her lantern and tried to sleep.

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Chapter Three

Xena heard the insane cackle from behind before she had time to react. She spun, sword in hand, only to be confronted by Callisto dragging Gabrielle backward, knife to her throat.

"I don't think that would be a good idea Xena, do you?" She purred, brown eyes wild. She pressed the knife a little harder into Gabrielle's neck. Gabrielle struggled, she was not fully upright, but she clamped on to Callisto's forearm, trying to pull it away from her bared throat.

Xena dropped her blade to the ground, knowing it would be useless against the immortal anyway.

"What do you want Callisto?" she said blankly, trying her best to put the struggling Gabrielle out of her mind. She didn't need the distraction.

"Just a little payback Xena. Do you know how long it took me to get out?"

"Not long enough, clearly," Xena said with a sneer.

"Not so clever now are we? Not when I've got your precious bard," to emphasise the point, she drew blood. Xena winced and took half a step forward before she could stop herself.

"Xena?" Gabrielle croaked in a hoarse, strangled whisper.

"Don't do this Callisto," Xena said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"You give me one reason not to?"

Xena thought wildly, "It's too easy."

"Easy," she reaffirmed, nodding her head, "Say bye-bye?"

Janice Covington sat bolt upright in her cot, grabbing at her throat. Oh God, that had been real, so Goddamn real! She swung her legs over the side and sat there shaking for a moment, wiping the sweat from her brow. She glanced outside; the pale light of dawn was just easing its way through the cracks in the tent. She rose, washed, dressed, went to the latrine and headed to the meal tent, her mind still trembling.

A few early risers were already sitting, munching away at flat bread and yoghurt, two of whom were Mel and Naomi. Janice cast them a quick glance before sitting at the other end of the huge table. Mellard walked in, appraised the scene and sat at the head as he always did. After a while, the table slowly filled with the rest of the archaeologists employed on the dig.

Janice finished her bread quickly and left the tent to gather her gear from the tent they called the 'office'. She lugged her notes and personal tools over to her trench where her workmen were squatting waiting to begin the day's work. They looked at her expectantly as she pulled out her note book to assess what should be done that day. After a few moments, she simply indicated that the workmen should continue with the deposits they had started the day before on the north side of the wall. They moved off to gather tools and jump in the trench. After about half an hour Janice had them all settled down and working steadily, shifting soil and uncovering more of the wall that ran through the centre of her trench. She sighed and sat back on a rock, beginning the first of the day's entries in her meticulous notes. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice the workman who came up beside her until he asked in halting English.

"Miss Jan? Where Miss Mel?" It seemed that Western names of more than one syllable were impossible to pronounce. Her workmen wore the only people Janice allowed to call her 'Jan'. Somehow coming from them the abbreviation was comforting.

Janice jumped and looked up at the young man, "Working there," she said pointing, but frowned when 'over there' yielded no Mel.

"No, not there Miss Jan, coming."

A strange expression crossed her face; Melinda Pappas was indeed coming, with John Mellard hot on her heels. Janice stood and motioned the workman away. She could hear the conversation before it was halfway to the trench.

"Dr. Mellard, it is as much my trench as it is hers, and I'm not letting a silly incident prevent me from finishing the work I began, do you understand me?"

"Miss Pappas, the woman assaulted you! I do not think it is very wise of you to be associating with her."

"Now you see here," Mel stopped dead and turned towards the Director, pointing her finger, "she did not assault me, nor did she try and rape me. I don't know what your sick mind is thinking, but what ever it is, I don't think it has much to do with what actually happened. Now, will you let me get on with my work?!" Mel was fuming, no one with any sense would have dared prevent the Southerner from doing anything at that moment.

"Very well Miss Pappas, but I will take no responsibility for her actions, or yours," with that John Mellard stalked off in the direction of his own trench.

The workmen in Janice and Mel's trench were all staring. It was obvious something was going on, but they had no idea what. Janice turned to them, "Work, work, nothing to see," she said. Reluctantly they turned back to their trowelling.

By now Mel was close to the trench and she called out a greeting. Janice smiled.

"Hey Mel, nice to see you could make it," she said flatly as the Southerner came up beside her. She didn't trust her voice with any emotion.

"Oh my, that man! Anyone would have thought you'd ravished me in the middle of the night when it was just a?you know?wasn't it?" she asked a little hesitantly, glancing at the still curious workmen.

"Ah, yeah Mel, that's all it was, nothing to get too worked up about," Janice frowned, "Hey listen, I was thinking about taking it down on the south side today, what do you think?" she desperately wanted to change the subject, because she knew full well that it was not just a ?you know? to her.

"South side of the wall? Well," Mel thought about it for a moment, took the note book out of Janice's hands, scanned a few pages and nodded, "The deposits do tend to appear more compact with some burning in that area," she looked at Janice, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

"That the south side may be the interior of the structure?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sure am, sweetheart," she said with a wink.

"Well then," Mel said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with an index finger, "Down we go then."

It took another half hour to get some of the workmen to clean up their work on the north side and shifted to the south, but once they got moving deposit was being shifted quickly.

"Clean the wall," Mel was saying to the workmen as they worked, she took a trowel and brush and indicated that they should clean the wall as they went down, otherwise she and Janice would be left with a dirt encrusted wall all the way to the base of the layer. Cleaning it later would mean causing a mess and probable contamination of deeper deposits. That understood, the workmen continued.

Nothing of great interest was coming out of the layer, a few fragments of bronze and sherds of amphorae, but it was enough to suggest that they were on to something. Janice and Mel spent the morning jumping in and out of the trench, bagging artefacts, checking on workmen and writing notes. They stopped for a half hour lunch break around noon.

After lunch the work on the south side of the wall continued much as before. About three quarters of an hour into the afternoon session one of the workmen stopped work and called out to Janice.

"Miss Jan! Black."

Janice and Mel glanced quickly at each other before jumping into the trench to see what the man was talking about. It was indeed black. Janice scraped around with her trowel, removing more of the current layer. She discovered that underneath lay a dark black deposit, heavily burned. Mel grinned at her and Janice couldn't help but grin back, "Occupation layer," they both said at the same time. This layer of deposit was not like the layers of crud and collapse above, it was directly above a floor, the burnt remains of whatever had been inside the building before it had been destroyed.

Janice patted the workman on the back and congratulated him for stopping so promptly at the colour change. Mel instructed the workers to clear the level off to the black layer. They were not to go below it, but rather to clean off the top of the surface. It would be a new layer. There were only a couple of hours left in the work day, but both Janice and Mel felt that they could get down to the black before knocking off if they both got in and helped. Working side by side with the workmen, they stripped the paler, sandy layer off quickly. By the end of the day, they were all the way down to the new black layer. Photography would have to wait until the morning, but it was there, waiting for them.

That afternoon at the site meeting Janice revealed that they had probably hit an occupation layer of some kind. They described it and everyone agreed. It seemed that the incident of last night was mostly forgotten, but John Mellard remembered. After the meeting was concluded he took Mel aside for a word.

"Melinda," he began, guiding her outside by the elbow. Mel flung a questioning look back at Janice, but she just shrugged. "I'm sorry about the argument this morning. You know I'm only looking out for the best interests of my staff."

"John, it's alright. It was a silly misunderstanding and I over reacted," she interrupted.

"As long as you are sure that's what it was, because you know women like Janice?" he said.

"JOHN! I thought better of you than that! How dare you insult Janice in that way?! It doesn't matter what type of woman she is" This man had a way of getting her gander up like no other. She was on the verge of despising him.

"Alright, alright. Listen, if you're not doing anything later, why don't you come to my tent for a drink, I'd like to discuss this new layer with you," he flashed a smile, placing a hand at her lower back.

Mel turned to him, raising an eyebrow, "Dr. Mellard, you sure do have some nerve," she said icily before turning on her heel and letting her long strides take her as far away as possible.

She headed for Janice's tent. She had to tell the woman that she would still be sleeping in Naomi's tent, she felt it would be easier that way. But first she had to vent her anger.

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Chapter Four

"Janice!" she called before she lifted the tent flap. She did not even know if the woman was going to be in there. Thankfully she was, sitting on her cot, smoking a cigarillo.

"Mel-"

"Give me your gun, is it loaded?" she demanded.

"Yes, but Mel-"

"Just give it to me!" she said, holding out her hand impatiently.

Janice wasn't quite sure what was going on, but she felt under her bed and retrieved the .44 revolver and handed the woman the weapon. Mel checked it and bolted out the door. Janice ran after her.

"Mel, what do you think you are doing? Come back!" the shorter archaeologist practically had to run to keep up with the furious southerner.

Mel stopped just outside of camp, facing the biggest tree she could see. She levelled the gun, holding it with two hands. Janice threw herself, sprawling to the ground hands holding her hat over her ears. Mel pulled the hammer back and fired, cocked and fired, cocked and fired over and over, sending six successive shots from the weapon. The tree took the peppering, sending splinters flying.

"Mel! What the hell!" Janice shouted as Mel finally lowered the smoking weapon. She popped the cylinder and released the spent cartridges allowing them to drop at her feet. She checked the weapon, snapped back the cylinder and turned to Janice as she was rising, handing her the revolver.

"Thank you," was all she said before stalking back to Janice's tent.

At the sound of gun fire the camp erupted, everyone dashed out to see what was going on. All they saw was the normally controlled Melinda Pappas hand Janice's gun back and head from the scene.

Janice stood there smiling for a second, 'So she can use a gun!' then she too bolted to her tent.

Mel sat on her old cot shaking. Janice didn't know what to do. She wanted to comfort the woman, but thought any physical display would be misconstrued. She simply sat opposite Mel on her own cot, staring at her.

"I know what you're thinking," said Mel, staring back at Janice, "Just because I don't like guns doesn't mean I can't use one. Daddy did teach me some things besides syntax you know," the emotion plain in her voice.

Janice was grinning from ear to ear, "I wasn't thinking that!" she lied, "What in God's name brought that on?" she had to know.

"Dr. John I'll-insult-your-friend-and-then-make-a-pass-at-you Mellard," came the snarled reply.

"Oh Mel, don't try and tell me you were defending my honour?!" she spluttered with a half smile.

Mel just looked at her, "Janice Covington, despite it all, I think you are one of the most honourable people I know, don't you go putting yourself down like that!"

Janice frowned, uncertain of how to continue, "So he insulted me hey?"

"Yes he insulted you."

"What did he say?" she had a pretty good idea she had to ask.

"He?he called you one of ?those? women!" stammered Mel.

Janice laughed out loud, "Hell Mel," she cried, throwing her hands in the air, "In case you haven't noticed by now, I am one of those women!"

"Fine, but that's no excuse for him to make a pass at me, 'Why don't you come by my tent later for a drink, I'd like to discuss that new layer with you', that's what he said. I couldn't think of a more insensitive, unattractive man if you paid me!" she was fuming again, adrenalin coursing through her.

"So that's what all this is about, the bastard! Don't trust him Mel," Janice warned.

"I have no intention of trusting him as far as I can spit!" she swore, and to prove her point she spat on the ground between her feet.

Janice raised an eyebrow, she had never seen Mel so angry, certainly never angry enough to spit, let alone go shooting up trees. This was a new, dangerous, side to Melinda Pappas that Janice liked, perhaps a little too much. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that threatened. Lost for anything constructive to say she put on her best southern accent a la Scarlett O'Hara, "Well fiddle dee dee Miss Pappas, where are your manners?"

Mel looked up, her anger washed away at the sight of the constrained archaeologist sitting up prim and proper, trying to act the perfect southern belle. She burst into laugher so strong that her sides hurt.

"I fail to see what is so humorous," said a cold, steely voice at the tent flap.

The two women stopped laughing, it was John Mellard.

"Miss Pappas, what were you doing endangering the lives of people in this camp? We have guns for protection, not for needless displays of anger," he ran a meaty hand over his balding head.

"Hardly needless John, from what I hear. I don't care what you think of me, but if you hurt her in any way, I swear I'll come after you myself!" Janice growled.

"Ha! That's rich coming from you!" he spat, giving her a condescending sneer.

Janice rose, but was stopped by an iron grip on her forearm, "Don't Janice, he's not worth it," said Mel.

"That's right," grated the compact archaeologist, looking John Mellard up and down, "he's not. Why don't you just leave?"

John understood the undertone, glanced again at Melinda, gave her a repulsed snort and walked away.

"Oh my, what are we going to do? I don't think I can take another month of this."

"Forget him. We have to work with him, but that's as far as it goes," said Janice with a scowl.

"I suppose. I'm sorry for the outburst; he just made me so angry. I lost control."

Janice smiled, "Just remind me never to make you lose control with me!"

Mel sniggered reluctantly, "I'll try and remember that," she glanced away from the archaeologist, "I'll be sleeping in Naomi's tent Janice. I don't want to be a ?distraction? for you," she finished.

Janice smiled sadly, looking down at the ground, "Sure Mel, whatever you want to do, that's fine by me."

"Are you really okay with that Janice?" asked Mel, concern fluttering behind her eyes.

Janice took a deep breath, she'd made a big enough fool of her self already, and she may as well make a bigger one. She frowned in consternation, "No, I'm not really okay with that Mel, I'd be lying if I said I was, but I don't want to be selfish, not with this anyway. You mean too much to me to ruin our friendship," Janice could feel the tears that threatened.

"Janice?"

"Mel, don't, please, I?I'm having enough trouble dealing with this as it is. I don't trust myself to speak Mel, please don't make me?" Janice peered at her with such a stricken look that Mel crumpled inside. She moved to sit next to Janice on her cot, to comfort her, but Janice stood up, moving away.

"Mel," she sniffed, desperate to get away from those blue eyes that sought her out, "just go to Naomi's tent, please, I'll be fine. I'll see you at dinner," she turned her back to the Southerner, trying to hide her tears, but Mel noticed the slight heaving of her shoulders. She stood, took a step towards Janice, hand outstretched, but dropped it, shaking her head. She exited the tent.

As soon as she heard the tent flap fall back into place Janice whirled and struck blindly at the centre post of the tent with her fist. The whole structure shifted and threatened to collapse, but it managed to stay upright. Janice shook out her hand, swearing. She looked at her knuckles and noticed that they were bleeding. Wrapping a piece of cloth over them she sat on her cot, sobbing.

"Oh God," she begged, "What am I gonna do?" she was beginning to sound like a broken record. "You've really fallen this time Covington, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

She slowly rose from her cot and curled herself in a ball on Mel's old cot; it still held her faint scent. Trying to comfort herself, she fell asleep.

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Chapter Five

"Nooooo!" The scream echoed out from the dark haired warrior's throat, full of anguish. Blood gushed from Gabrielle's neck in a crimson flood, drenching her chest and running down her legs. Callisto coldly dropped the spent body and began to laugh.

"Easy Xena, you were right, so easy."

An inhuman anger washed over the warrior and she charged the smaller blonde woman, but Callisto was too fast and easily spun out of Xena's grasp.

"Oh Xena, you know better than to let anger mar your judgement," she purred, "no, no, don't be sorry," she began as Xena started for her again. She held up a hand and turned her head to the side a la Gabrielle, "just improve," with that she was gone.

Xena staggered over to Gabrielle's body, the head hanging at an unnatural angle, cut nearly clean through. She sank down to her knees and gathered the remains of the bard in her arms.

"Oh Gabrielle, I'm so sorry?" tears caught in her throat and washed down her face, spattering onto the blood covered bard revealing spots of pale skin beneath. "Never this, never this?." she groaned. Time seemed to struggle with itself.

Xena heard the insane cackle from behind before she had time to react. She spun, sword in hand, only to be confronted by Callisto dragging Gabrielle backward, knife to her throat.

"D�j� vu Xena?" Callisto asked with a crooked smile.

Xena shook her head. What was happening?

"Callisto, what game are you playing?" she said.

"Game Xena? I don't know what you are talking about," she said innocently with a wicked grins "what do you think bard?" she looked down at Gabrielle, "Make a good story?"

Gabrielle stared wildly up at the mad woman above her with panic stricken eyes, unable to speak.

"Well? I asked you a question," Callisto applied more pressure to the knife.

Gabrielle flicked a glance to the immobile Xena with imploring eyes, "Callisto?don't do this," she managed.

"Mmmm, sounds familiar, doesn't it Xena?" she turned her attention back to the bard, "But I asked you a question!" she screamed, drawing her lips back in a sneer.

"Callisto?" began Xena, unable to keep the edge of panic out her voice.

"Uh-uh Warrior Princess, not this time."

"It?would make?a good story," came the choked voice of Gabrielle. Xena could only stare at her in wonder.

"Indeed, " Callisto mused, almost to herself, "but you know what would make a better one?" Gabrielle's eyebrows knitted questioningly. "This." Callisto said and drew the knife across the bard's throat lovingly. The bard choked and gagged, blood spraying, "pity you won't be around to tell it."

"Janice! JANICE!!" Someone was shaking her, "Janice wake up!" Slowly she rose to consciousness, grabbing at whatever was shaking her, "Oh thank God! Janice, are you okay?"

It was Mel's voice. Janice opened an eye to stare at the woman, "I'm alive?" she asked in a weak voice.

"Of course your alive. Why ever did you think you wouldn't be? Mel said concern evident in her voice.

"I've just had my goddamn throat cut!" she swore, opening the other eye and trying to sit up.

"It was a dream Janice, that's all." Mel sat beside her and put her arm around the archaeologist's shoulders. Janice was too distraught to worry about it, "Tell me about it?"

"It was Callisto. This is the second dream I've had. Callisto slit my, ah Gabrielle's throat and Xena was helpless to stop her. It was so real Mel, so real," Janice shook her head, suddenly aware of Mel's close proximity, "What time is it?" she asked.

"About seven. I was coming to get you for dinner, but I heard you screaming, so I came in and saw you thrashing about. I couldn't wake you, I was worried," she finished.

"Thanks, I'm okay now. Just let me clean up and we'll go to dinner okay?" she rose and brushed her damp hair from her forehead. She moved over to a basin and soaked a cloth, then slowly wiped her face and neck.

"Janice?" asked Mel

"Yeah?"

"What happened to your hand?"

Janice looked guiltily at her hand, the cloth must have slipped off as she slept. Her knuckles were split and swollen purple. She didn't think she had hit the post that hard, but she must have, "Um, I hit something," she said sheepishly.

"You hit something? Why?" Mel asked, a look of shock on her face.

"Look, I was angry with myself okay, you go around shooting up trees, I hit things," she said with a shrug.

"Come here and let me have a look at that, it looks pretty bad."

"It's fine Mel, just a little swollen," she knew she couldn't let Mel look at her hand without breaking down again.

Mel insisted, reluctantly Janice gave up fighting and flung her hand in Mel's direction.

"Why were you angry with yourself Janice?" she asked as she dabbed at the purple knuckles with a cloth.

"Because I'm so goddamn stupid Mel."

"Your hardly stupid, look at this, it's beginning to fester. Why didn't you clean it properly? Never mind," she scolded like a mother.

"I am stupid. I've gone and done something really dumb-"

"Janice Covington you only go on tearing yourself up inside don't you?" Mel stared at Janice's disbelieving face.

"Excuse me?" asked Janice in desperation.

"It's alright Janice, I understand. I've been doing some thinking, and I understand how you?feel?about me. I just need some time," she continued to work on Janice's hand, but Janice jerked away.

"What do you mean Mel?" she demanded stepping to the other side of the tent feeling like a caged animal.

"I mean that I need some time to figure out how I feel about you. I do care about you Janice, more than myself, but I have to get my head around this. I can't just drop close to thirty years of a strict southern upbringing in a day Janice," she said.

"What are you saying?" Janice was dumbfounded.

"Oh for crying out loud Janice, maybe you are stupid! Do you love me?" she almost shouted totally exasperated with the archaeologist.

Janice just stared at her, unable to believe what she was hearing, "I?well,?I, um?yes," there, she had said it. Amazingly she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

Mel let out a breath she was not aware of holding, "Right, then just give me some time. Come on, your hand will be fine, let's go to dinner."

Janice grinned, "You really mean that?"

"Of course your hand'll be fine Janice, don't worry."

"No, about needing time?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but time starts now," Mel said sternly.

"Okay," Janice flashed her a smile and strutted out of the tent.

Mel shook her head, somehow being flashed a smile from Janice was much better than being flashed one by John Mellard.

________________________________________

Chapter Six

After dinner Janice wanted to speak to Mel about the following day, but thought the 'time thing' had priority. She went and sat alone by the site, staring up at the stars. She frowned a moment as she scanned the night sky, where was the Great Bear, Ursa Major? I don't believe it, goddamn, its not there. She thought desperately, Come on Covington, maybe you're in the wrong part of the world, maybe it hasn't risen yet, what about clouds? Yet she knew these things were wrong, and the night was crystal clear. Impossible! Stars just don't fall from the sky Covington, must be some weird anomaly. Something was tugging at the back of her mind. She shook her head and pulled out a cigarillo, lighting it she took a long drag, swirling the aromatic smoke around her mouth before discarding it as a plume. Dismissing the missing constellation as something too weird to comprehend, she let her thoughts drift to Mel. She felt relieved that the woman understood how Janice felt about her, but in a way she felt guilty. She didn't want to push her into making a decision about their relationship like this. She doubted Mel could accept her as a lover and was desperately worried that it would end their friendship.

While Janice sat smoking, Mel had positioned herself on a chair outside Naomi's tent. She could see the excavation area quite clearly, especially the slight, silhouetted figure of Janice Covington and the clouds of smoke that rose around her. She smiled. She did care about the woman, and in a way loved her. She would happily die for the compact archaeologist, she almost did. However, she didn't know whether she could love Janice the way she wanted to be loved. She let her thoughts drift back to the day she first met Janice and grimaced as she remembered thinking that the woman was a rude, selfish, conniving, disrespectful charlatan. In fact the only good thing Mel remembered about her was her eyes; they were such a brilliant shade of green that they could drill through your soul. Now however, she saw Janice as a kind and generous person, she only acted tough so she wouldn't get hurt. Her eyes pricked with tears as she remembered Janice's dejection at discovering she was related to Gabrielle, someone she had always labelled as 'that useless tag-along bard'. Yet Mel could see the strength in Gabrielle, just as she could see the real strength in Janice, the strength Janice herself could not see. Janice was so intent on destroying herself from the inside out she couldn't see that she was hurting others on the outside with her self depleting remarks.

"Oh Janice, what am I going to do with you?" she mumbled as she watched the archaeologist rise and walk purposefully to her tent. Mel let her eyes study the woman as she moved with seeming stealth, every action accounted for, nothing wasted. Perfect. And the way her- "Oh my!" Mel almost shouted, sitting bolt upright in the chair. Mel narrowed her eyes and concentrated on finishing the thought, "Well, this is mighty interesting," she said aloud, feeling a blush touch her cheeks.

"Are you okay out there Mel?" shouted Naomi from inside the tent.

"Yes! I'm fine thank you. In fact, I don't think I've felt this good in a long while," She replied with a grin.

"Good to hear Mel."

Mel closed her eyes and let thoughts of Janice wash over her, "So that's how it's going to be," she said finally, "what ever would Daddy think?" She was still very disconcerted, but at least she wasn't floundering any more. With a sigh she rose and made her way to bed.

________________________________________

Chapter Seven

"Goddammit! This is getting out of hand," Janice panted as she rolled out of bed in the middle of the night. She sat on the side of her cot and lit a cigarillo, so's my smoking.'

It was the dream again, another rendition of the same incident. Janice couldn't take much more. She stood and paced up and down the seven foot of tent, trying to calm herself, it wasn't working.

"Callisto, Callisto?" she muttered under her breath between drags on the cigarillo and the waving of her free arm. "What do I know about Callisto?" she asked. "She lived in Arcadia with wild beasts and Artemis?.was turned into a ? bear by Zeus and was shot by Artemis," she frowned deeply, anyway, she was made immortal by being turned in to the constellation?" A look of horror crossed her face, "Ursa Major, the Great Bear, which this evening seemed to fall from the sky!" she ended with an hysterical laugh. She dashed outside to make sure she wasn't seeing things earlier, or rather not seeing them.

"Oh God!" she shouted and looked around frantically as she realised that she could still not see the constellation. "Just a dream Covington, just a dream. Leave it!" she commanded herself. With willpower she did not know she possessed, she forced herself to walk back inside her tent and lie down. She lay there staring at the tent roof until dawn.

Janice managed to drag herself to the excavation site the next morning. She was exhausted after a sleepless, panic filled night. Mel greeted her with a strange expression.

"Oh my Janice, are you alright? You look a little pale," she pressed her hand to the archaeologist's forehead.

"I'm fine," mumbled Janice, turning away, "just dreams, that's all they were," she sounded like she was trying to convince herself of something. "Shall we get started on this layer?" she asked, pulling a camera out of her bag.

"Sure."

"Why don't you do the honours?" she asked, offering the camera to Mel.

Mel took the camera from Janice and hunted up the ranging pole that was currently in Naomi's trench. Positioning it along the base of the wall for scale, she snapped off several shots of the blackish deposit they were about to excavate. She retrieved the pole, and then noted the roll and exposure number of the film plus the new layer number down in the notebook.

"Okay, we're ready to go Janice," she called over to the woman.

Janice nodded and organised several workmen to begin excavating the deposit. She sent a couple to the sieves. She wanted every inch of the dark layer screened, she didn't want to miss anything small but important.

By lunch, they had removed a full four inch layer and had recovered several pots, a bronze lamp and a couple of coins. Each of these was recorded, bagged, tagged and sent to the 'office' for later examination.

At lunch Janice and Mel's trench was the topic of conversation, or rather the objects they were finding. Several other members of the team were despairing that they would ever find any occupation in their area of the site. Janice tried to cheer them up a bit, but it didn't seem to be working. An entire month shifting soil and finding nothing could be really hard on the nerves. John Mellard skulked around, putting in a word here or there, but not really saying much.

The session after lunch was running smoothly, verging on the boring side of things when a shout from one of the workmen brought them both running.

"Miss Jan! Miss Mel! Quick!"

The two women jumped into the trench and squatted by the workmen. What they saw sent their hearts pounding; it was a glint of metal. Janice quickly grabbed a trowel and brush from a nearby workman and began clearing the object carefully. She worked for about half an hour until she had exposed a length of metal some three feet long. It was lying on its edge at a slightly downward angle. Turning around, she began to work the other way, exposing part of what looked like a hilt. Finally, the entire object was revealed in situ. It was quite obviously a sword. There was a decoration of some kind just below the hilt, but it was obscured by the angle of the blade.

Janice and Mel looked at each other; all they could do was grin. Mel instructed one of the workmen to clean around the object while she dashed for the camera. This had to be recorded. Photos taken, the two women contemplated calling John Mellard over. Technically they should, but neither woman had the inclination. He'd just have to wait until it got to the 'office'.

Mel carefully lifted the sword and laid it on a tray for safer transportation. It was only half an hour to knock off time and she and Janice decided to let the workers off early. They whooped in delight, cleaned up their things and dashed off.

Mel and Janice carried the sword between them to prevent damage from movement and headed to the 'office'. They called over to Mellard on the way. He looked up briefly, saw what they had and bolted after them, abandoning his trench.

"My God! It's magnificent!" he said, his seeming annoyance with the two women temporarily forgotten. He grabbed a brush and began cleaning the object. Janice and Mel stood back, letting him have his perceived moment of glory. "What's it made of?" he asked, "I can't figure it out. Can't be bronze or copper, certainly not iron. Goddamn, the thing's been buried for two and a half thousand years and its damn near perfect. Not a spot of corrosion or rust on it anywhere. I don't believe it. You sure you dug this up?" he glanced at Janice.

Janice shrugged, "Of course we dug the damn thing up, what do you think we've been doing all day? Although I have to agree, it is a bit weird, maybe it's some freak preservation. But the bronze we've recovered so far has all been corroded. I don't understand either," she finished. Mel was nodding agreement.

"Hang on, what's this?" he was peering at the decoration under the hilt. He brushed it off a bit more and squinted, "I can't make it out, looks like an inscription or something. Mel? Can you see?" he turned to the translator, indicating for her to come over.

Despite her reluctance to be near Mellard right now, the call of the inscription was greater. She bent over the object, squinted, adjusted her glasses and looked up, "Where's the magnifying glass?" she asked. That sent Mellard and Janice on a wild search until Janice finally held it up triumphantly.

"Ah ha! Gotcha!" she handed the glass to Mel, who peered over the object once more.

"Oh my," she said slowly.

"What is it?!" demanded Janice and Mellard together, looking expectantly at Mel.

Mel straightened, "It's classical Greek, as one might expect-"

"Tell us what it says!" demanded Mellard. Janice was grateful he had been the one to say the words that were right on the tip of her tongue.

"I'm getting to that," she snapped, "It says: 'Sword of Hephaestus, of iron forged, blessed by Zeus, to kill the Bear'," she gasped as Janice fainted dead away.

"Covington! Covington get up!" rough hands were shaking her. She seemed to be getting shaken a lot these days.

"I'm okay! I'm okay," she said, pushing away Mellard's hands as she struggled to rise. She stood shakily, hanging on to the edge of a table for support, "I'm sorry. Damn! I hardly ever faint. Must be the heat," she didn't believe it for a second and nor did Mel.

"Janice, I need to talk with you?alone."

Mellard looked at her warily but let the two women leave the tent, besides, the object was far too interesting.

Outside the tent Mel grabbed Janice by the shoulders, stunning the woman, "Janice what's wrong, you never faint like that. Are you ill?" she asked with concern.

Shrugging out of the translator's grasp she shook her head, "Do you know who 'the Bear' is Mel?"

Mel thought for a second, "Of course I do, I'm not dense, it's Callisto."

"Exactly."

"But Callisto was shot by Artemis with an arrow, not run through with a sword Janice."

"Look at the thing. It doesn't even have a scratch. What did it say? 'Blessed by Zeus'?" she added, a touch of hysteria in her voice.

"Yes, but-" she looked sideways at the archaeologist, "Why do I have the feeling that ya'll not telling me what's really bothering you Janice Covington?"

"Because I'm not."

Mel stood there with her hands on her hips, "C'mon, out with it."

"Did you look at the stars last night Mel?"

"Well yes, yes I did, they were beautiful?" she faltered, clearing her throat, "Why?"

"Did you notice anything odd?"

Mel frowned in thought, "No, can't say that I did, but I'm not much of an astronomer Janice. Why don't you just tell me?"

"I was watching too, I couldn't find Ursa Major!"

"The Great Bear?"

"Uh-huh, Callisto."

"Oh my!"

"And that, with these dreams I've been having?I think there is something rotten in the state of Macedonia Mel."

"What a time for Shakespeare, you can't be serious?"

"Deadly," said Janice, drawing her finger across her throat.

"There must be another explanation Janice, stars just don't disappear from the sky," Mel said a little sceptically.

"I know that! I tried thinking about it and couldn't come up with an explanation. I just don't know any more Mel. It's all too crazy?even for me," she finished lamely.

"Do you want to tell Mellard?"

"NO! He's the last person I'd tell, he'd probably have me dragged away by men in white coats."

"What do you want to do?"

I can't see how we can do anything"

"We?"

"Yes Mel, these dreams have Xena in them too, in fact, the whole thing seemed to hinge on her reaction. If anything, you're in this deeper than I am."

"In what? Oh my! I'm not sure if I like this."

"Me either. But think of this, so far you've defeated Ares, how hard can Callisto be? And we have the sword?"

"Janice, that was Xena, I hardly remember a thing. Besides, Mellard has the sword."

"I'm sure we'll think of something." Janice looked about for a moment, "We should get back, Mellard will wonder where we are."

Mel nodded and they strode back to the 'office'. Mellard was still engrossed in the weapon when they returned.

"I don't understand it," he was muttering to himself, "the only thing missing is the leather grip. The entirety of the metal is intact, nothing!" He threw his hand up in the air, exasperated. He noticed the women re-enter the tent. "Ah, there you are! You said the bronze you recovered from this layer was corroded?" he addressed Janice.

"That's correct, see for yourself," Janice said, moving to another bench and recovered several bags with bronze fragments and objects. Sure enough each of them was corroded and covered in bronze disease. Basically each object was desperately in need of some conservation.

Mellard continued shaking his head, "I can't explain it Covington. This thing is iron, after two and a half thousand yeas it should be a pile of rust."

"There are some things that cannot be explained John, just leave it at that," she sighed, "Listen, we've got to think about some security for this thing. The 'office' is hardly Fort Knox."

Mellard was nodding, "I'll lock it in my trunk tonight and it can be taken to the Archaeological Museum at Thessaloniki tomorrow after work, we have to go into town anyway for supplies."

Janice seemed satisfied and Mel nodded. They were interrupted when Naomi came bursting into the tent. She locked her gaze onto Mellard but suddenly noticed the sword lying on the bench.

"My God! What is that?" she spluttered.

"A sword," said Janice not bothering to cover the scorn in her voice.

"I can see that! It's incredibly well preserved."

"Uh-huh," muttered Mel

"Where's it from?"

"Occupation layer, my trench, and Mel's," Janice added with emphasis that was lost on the other archaeologist.

"Right," she nodded, dragging her attention back to Mellard, "Vassos is here to see you, I think it's important," she said.

Mellard frowned. Why would their local liaison from the museum come this afternoon? He wasn't scheduled for another two days. Mellard took a last look at the sword before following Naomi outside.

________________________________________

Chapter Eight

"John!" Vassos greeted Mellard, holding out his hand. Mellard took it in a firm shake. He was a greasy little man with a limp hand shake and hairy knuckles. His small, black eyes darted about nervously.

"Good to see you, you're a little early, but we have something I think you'd be interested in. Do you want to come into the 'office'?"

"We need to talk," he said nervously.

"The 'office' will be fine, and I can show you the object at the same time, come on," he put an arm around the man's shoulders and lead him towards the tent.

Vassos smiled at Janice and Mel as he entered, but a sadness touched his eyes. Janice and Mel returned the smile. Despite the man's sleazy appearance he was genuinely nice.

"John, can we talk alone?" he asked.

John frowned at the two women, they glanced at each other but left the tent. They didn't go far, but remained within earshot a few feet outside.

"What is it?" Mellard asked after the women had left.

"I think we have a problem. You are aware that you have been working in German occupied territory?"

"Of course I'm bloody aware, its been occupied for the last month!" he almost shouted.

"Well it appears that the Nazis have been allowing foreign excavations to continue for their own purposes. I received a communiqu� this morning from Berlin, they are sending a delegation to close down your excavation and take it over."

"That's preposterous."

"Let me finish. They're sending their own team, under the leadership of a Dr. Ursula Gross, other-wise known as SS-Sturmbannf�hrer Gross."

"The SS? I don't believe it?! What would they want with a 350 B.C. site, it's hardly Aryan."

"A section of the SS has been assigned to collect art treasures and objects of archaeological import from all over the occupied territories and remove them to Berlin for display. This has been going on since November '40 John, there's nothing we can do about it."

"Well they're not going to get anything from this site," he growled.

"It would be wise for you to co-operate with the Sturmbannf�hrer when she arrives John, I don't want any blood shed on this excavation."

Mellard sighed, "When will the German team arrive?" he asked, mentally working out how long it would take to hide various objects.

"Tomorrow morning. They are already here, resting in Thessaloniki before heading out."

"Jesus! You only got the message this morning!"

"I know it is short notice?"

"Fine. I have to call a meeting," he said, ushering Vassos out the tent flap, he noticed Mel and Janice standing nervously a little way away and glared at them.

"John," Vassos began, before heading for his vehicle, "just don't try to hide anything, its considered an offence punishable by death or at least an interrogation. You don't want that."

"I am an American citizen!"

"I don't care what you are, and nor do they. Don't do anything stupid," he smiled as he got behind the wheel, closed the door and drove off.

John couldn't believe it, all his work was about to be struck by lightening. He walked over to Janice and Mel.

"I assume you heard that?" he asked.

"Most of it," replied Janice, "Who's this Gross woman?"

"I don't really know, apparently she's an officer, a Major in the SS with a doctorate in something. She's taking over the excavation tomorrow morning."

"What?!" Mel shrieked.

"What can we do about it?" asked Janice, trying not to panic.

"Nothing. How's your German?"

________________________________________

Chapter Nine

The meeting Mellard called was almost a riot.

"I understand your fears," he was saying to the group of archaeologists gathered around the table in the meal tent. "Any of you are welcome to leave, but I don't know where you can go. Apparently we were only allowed to stay at the grace of the Germans. They thought they could get something out of us. Now they have it, we are the enemy. You leave this site and I don't know what will happen to you."

That almost caused a panic.

"You really know the right things to say Mellard," muttered Janice.

Mellard ignored her, "Okay, this is what will happen tomorrow morning. Apparently Major Gross is arriving with her team; we are to sign over to them. "

"You can't just do that," someone shouted.

"What am I going to do? It's only a site; I'm not going to die for it."

"It's your work."

"There'll always be other work. Now, if everyone is clear on what will happen, I think we should all get some sleep," he concluded.

There were a few questions that Mellard answered as best he could, but the truth was that he had no real answers.

After the majority of people had left the tent he pulled Janice and Mel aside, "I'm not letting them get that sword!"

"I had hoped you'd say something like that Mellard," Janice said.

"We could bury it under the store cases at the back of the tent. That would do for a while," suggested Mel.

"Good, gotta do it now," Janice supplied.

The three of them headed back to the 'office' to re-bury the sword. Fear quickened their steps.

"We need something to wrap it in," said Mel.

Janice found an old piece of tarpaulin and wrapped the blade, securing it with rope. Meanwhile Mellard had taken one of the shovels from the storage tent while Mel was busy shifting crates at the back of the tent. Mellard began digging. After half an hour he had dug a neat trench about two feet deep and three and a half feet long. Mel placed the sword at the base before Janice moved to fill it in. She patted the surface flat and they manoeuvred the crates back over the spot.

"I hope we're doing the right thing," Janice said, "damn, we just found it!"

"Oh my! Janice, what about the notes?"

"Rip them out," said Mellard, "hide them. This is a very important find, I'm not going to allow Dr. Gross to get her black clad hands on it!" he spat.

Janice grinned, "Well, I suppose sleep is in order," she said glancing at Mel who blushed. Janice frowned, a curious look on her face.

The three made their way out of the tent, "Janice," began Mellard, "I know I've said some bad things about you recently, but the truth is that you're a damn good archaeologist. I don't want to loose you to a box car, be careful," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, getting his meaning. "Don't worry about me Mellard, pink is hardly my colour," she tried to smile.

"What was that all about Janice?" asked Mel after Mellard had walked off to his own tent.

"Nothing that should concern you Mel," Janice said sadly, "don't worry about it."

"I hate it when you get like this, you're so evasive?"

"Just trust me."

"I do."

________________________________________

Chapter Ten

Janice didn't get much sleep that night. She couldn't help but think of the sword buried in the 'office', "To kill the Bear," she muttered, "to kill Callisto, the immortal constellation." Why? She shook her head, sat on the edge of her cot and lit a cigarillo. She smoked it thoughtfully. Dr. Ursula Gross, she'd never heard of the woman. She didn't like the idea of handing over the excavation, but they had no choice, even the notes had to go.

"SHIT!" she almost screamed, the notes! She bolted from the tent to the 'office' to grab her notebook. Sighing with relief as she put her hands on it she quickly flipped to the last day's entry that included the recovery of the sword. Placing the book on a bench she took a scalpel and ruler and sliced down the spine in a straight line as close to the edge as she could. Flipping to the corresponding pages in that bound set she removed the spares. Replacing the note book with the other equipment, she then walked back to her own tent and burned the extra sheets. She then rolled the notes concerning the sword and slipped them into the hollow frame of her cot. It would have to do for now. She settled back on her cot and closed her eyes.

Xena heard the insane cackle from behind before she had time to react. She spun, sword in hand, only to be confronted by Callisto dragging Gabrielle backward, knife to her throat.

"Oh Gods, not again!" Xena moaned.

"What is it Xena? Something wrong?" asked Callisto with a wicked grin.

Xena shook her head violently, "This has to stop. Just tell me what you want!" she demanded.

"The only thing I've ever wanted from you Xena," Callisto taunted.

"Which is?" Xena watched as she saw Gabrielle grab uselessly at the blonde haired warrior.

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet? I thought more of you than that Xena. Let me show you."

"Nooooo!" screamed Xena, but it was too late, Gabrielle lay in a bloodied heap on the ground, Callisto nowhere in sight. Xena threw her head back wailed into the night.

"To die! To die, Xena, that's what she wants!" shouted Janice as she awoke, once again bathed in sweat, "Oh God, she wants to die!" Janice burst into very uncharacteristic tears, hugging herself. "Je-sus! I can't deal with this! Mel, where are you when I need you?" she asked no-one.

"I'm right here," said a voice at the tent entrance.

"Christ!" whispered Janice between sobs.

"It's okay Janice," said Mel moving to sit by the stricken archaeologist, "I think you woke the whole camp with your screaming."

"I was screaming? I don't know what's happening to me Mel," she looked at the translator with tear filled eyes, "I think I'm going insane."

"Going?" asked Mel putting her arm around the woman, smiling.

"Don't okay? Just hold me," admitted Janice. Mel complied, wrapping both arms around the archaeologist as she sobbed into Mel's shoulder. Whatever was wrong it was pretty bad for Janice to let down all barriers. As far as Janice was concerned, she couldn't have stopped if she had wanted to. It seemed as if all the frustration to do with Mel, the dreams, the mystery of the constellation and the inscription on the sword had all built up to breaking point. That point had finally broken, all over Mel.

Mel held her, stroking her back until she finally calmed.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have lost it like that," she tried to pull back.

"Shh Janice, it's okay," Mel still held her, "You do what you need to do. I don't mind."

"Mel, seriously, its okay," she managed to extricate herself, "I don't want to put you in any position-"

"Janice?" she looked at the woman more clearly than she had looked at anyone before."You don't need to be afraid any more, it's okay." She leaned forward and brushed Janice's bangs out of her eyes. She ran her fingers down the side of her face, tracing a line of tears.

Janice shuddered at the unexpected sensation, "Mel, what are you doing?" she asked hesitantly.

"Something I should have done a long time ago. I just didn't realise I wanted to," her lips were mere inches away from Janice's. Slowly she lent in further and brushed her lips lightly across Janice's.

"You don't want to do this Mel," she said after a moment.

"Yes I do," Mel tried to pull Janice closer but the woman tore herself away from the embrace and stood on rigid legs.

"No you don't. Do you know what the Nazis do to women like me? They send them away and they are never seen again. I won't let that happen to you,, I won't let it!"

Mel sat there looking at the woman, "Do you want me to leave?" she asked.

"No, never, but if you stay I don't think I'll be able to live with myself," Janice pleaded.

Mel rose and walked to the tent flap, "Well then, until tomorrow," she said, brushing her hands down her thighs, before disappearing.

________________________________________

Chapter Eleven

The next day dawned with foreboding. The archaeologists gathered in the meal tent and ate their breakfast of bread and yoghurt. Nobody said much. They were all expecting the SS to barge in, but when they came it was without pomp and ceremony. As the team gathered their materials for work a black car flying SS flags pulled up along side the site. Janice and Mel stood by their trench staring.

The door to the passenger's side opened and a pair of booted calves emerged followed by black clad thighs and a jacketed torso. Sturmbannf�hrer Gross relieved herself of the car and stood. She scanned the area with sharp brown eyes and focussed on John Mellard in the distance. She was just a little taller than Janice, but slighter, with finely chiselled features and a mane of blonde hair disguised in a bun. The only non Aryan feature about her was her brown eyes.

. She strode confidently over to Mellard and introduced herself.

"Good morning Dr. Mellard," she said holding out a leather gloved hand

"Sturmbannf�hrer Gross?" asked Mellard ignoring the proffered hand.

"I'm happy to finally meet you. I've read much of your work," her English was perfect, with only a slight accent that Mellard could not place.

"I'm flattered," he said sarcastically.

"As you are aware, I have come to take over the excavation of this site," she began, peeling her gloves. "You and your team have worked well and are no longer essential to our greater purpose. However, I have managed to persuade Berlin that you will be of use to me. I understand you have a translator here, a Melinda Pappas?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We do, but we have uncovered very few texts. She's currently excavating with Dr. Janice Covington," he said, using the archaeologist's title.

"Covington? Ah yes, I know the name. I believe her father sold us some material last year. Do you know what became of him?" she asked.

Mellard looked at her. He knew Janice's father had been a dealer but had no idea he had dealt with the SS, "Ah, he's dead."

Gross shrugged, "Pity, he could have been useful," she dismissed the thought. "Please, will you introduce me to Melinda Pappas?"

Mellard frowned but lifted an arm to indicate the direction they should take towards the women's trench, "This way Sturmbannf�hrer," he said.

________________________________________

Chapter Twelve

Janice and Mel saw the two approaching from a distance, "Don't ya just love a woman in uniform?" asked Janice dripping sarcasm.

"Stop it, behave!" Mel jabbed her in the side. She turned to smile as the two figures approached.

"Janice, Mel, this is SS-Sturmbannf�hrer Ursula Gross. Sturmbannf�hrer, Dr. Janice Covington and Melinda Pappas," he indicated the women respectively.

Gross removed her hat and tucked it under one arm. She bowed slightly and clicked her heels to the women, "I'm pleased to meet you both, you in particular Melinda. I'll have need of a translator."

"I didn't realise they allowed women into the ranks of the SS," Janice said coldly eyeing the woman.

Gross smiled but it did not touch her eyes, "They made an exception for me Dr. Covington," she said, looking the archaeologist up and down, smiling. "I have many?skills? that are appreciated by the SS."

Janice felt her blood run cold at the look from the blonde haired woman, she threw a glance at Mel and notice she was rather pale.

"I'm sure you do. If you don't mind me asking, I believe you have a Doctorate. What is it in?" Something was bothering Janice about the woman, but she couldn't figure it out, something familiar?

"Of course, I have two, one in Classical Greek history and another in Classical archaeology. Both my dissertations dealt with aspects of Greek mythology but from different perspectives."

Janice frowned, the woman hardly looked old enough to have two PhD's under her belt. Why would you want two anyway? "Fascinating," she mumbled.

Gross turned her attention to Melinda, "The rest of the team arrives tomorrow, but in the mean time, I require you to go through the store and gather any manuscripts or pieces of parchment that have been preserved. You will translate them here."

"There aren't many, and I usually study them af-" Mel began.

"You will study them when I tell you to study them!" shouted Gross, slapping her gloves in one hand for emphasis; there was an evil glare in her eye.

Mel gasped and took a half step back, "Oh my!"

"Don't you shout at her!" yelled Janice positioning her small form in front of the translator. She could see Gross trying to control herself. The muscles in her jaw worked spasmodically.

"Dr. Covington," she took a deep breath, "I am not talking to you, please do not interfere."

"It's alright Janice; I'll gather the material today. It shouldn't take long. I'll begin now if Sturmbannf�hrer Gross will allow me to depart?" a cold menacing tone had come over Mel's words. It seemed as if her voice had dropped an octave.

Janice frowned at her, but Mel had risen to her full height and squared her shoulders, the perfect image of fury. Gross nodded stiffly at her. She strode menacingly past Gross, glancing down from her full height at the smaller woman. Gross ignored her, turning to Mellard.

"Do you have any weapons?" she asked. Mellard almost tripped over his tongue.

"Weapons?" he asked with dread.

"Yes, fire arms, are your people armed?"

Janice was shaking her head behind Gross. Mellard flicked his eyes to her briefly but knew it would be pointless to lie, "We have some weapons Sturmbannf�hrer," he said.

"They will be confiscated for security purposes. You understand?"

"Of course."

"If you will excuse me, I shall leave you for a while. There are some things I must attend to. I shall return shortly to confiscate weapons. If you have any questions, please pose them to me then," with that, she returned her hat to her head and stalked towards her car.

Mellard let out a long breath as she left.

"Goddamn it, what a bitch! Je-sus anyone would think she's Goddamn Hitler for Christ's sake," Janice vented.

"Janice, calm down, there's nothing you can do, just leave it."

"Goddamn it, there is something I can do, she's not going to get my .44," she swore moving towards her tent.

"Janice!" Mellard pulled her back, grabbing her arm.

"Let go of me!"

"No Janice, look, don't do anything stupid, she's just looking for an excuse to cause trouble, don't give her one," Mellard said sternly.

Janice tore herself free and headed to the 'office' after Mel.

________________________________________

Chapter Thirteen

When she arrived Mel was pouring through the catalogue of finds, "Box three, small fragment of parchment," she mumbled as she wrote the location down. "Box five, several half pieces of parchment with inscription."

"Mel are you okay?" she asked, coming up along side the woman.

"Box six, complete parchment," she said.

"Obviously not, hey?"

Mel sat back and took off her glasses and turned to face Janice, "No, I am not alright," she growled, "No-one has spoken to me like that since I was a little girl. I'll translate the damn texts for her, but I'll hate every second of it!" Mel swore. She rarely cursed, but when she did, she meant it.

"I know, I won't like excavating much for her either," she placed a hand on Mel's shoulder and Mel reached up to hold it. Janice sighed, "We can get through this you know."

Mel nodded, "I know Janice, but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

Janice smiled at her, "That's it Mel, hold that thought. I've gotta go and hide my gun and ammunition before she gets back." She took her hand back sadly and turned to leave the tent.

"Janice, don't do anything to get yourself killed on me y'hear?" said Mel with feeling.

"Hell Mel, I'm Janice Covington for Christ's sake!" she smiled, trying to hide her own fear before she left the tent. Mel took a deep breath, shaking her head and turned back to the catalogue. After about half an hour she had made a list of some twenty texts for translation. She began to remove them from storage.

Meanwhile, Janice was desperately trying to think of a place to hide her gun. She had it wrapped in its holster with spare ammunition on the belt. It made quite a bulky package. Living in a tent did not necessarily facilitate easy hiding places. She eventually settled for tying a piece of twine to the gun belt and burying it shallowly under her bed with the twine protruding from the surface so she could grab it and pull the weapon free quickly if need be. She rubbed dirt from the floor into the string so it looked like an old discarded bit of garbage. The gun may not survive a thorough searching, but with any luck, the searching would not be thorough. This done, she returned to her trench. She received a long look from Mellard, but she shrugged it off in annoyance.

Her workmen had been sitting inactive for almost an hour and they were getting a little restless. Some of them sat playing a game of stones in the dirt, others were sleeping or talking.

"Okay," she said, trying to motivate them, "let's work!" She organised the majority of men to continue clearing the black deposit that had yielded the sword. The remainder worked on the north side, clearing exterior wall collapse. She sat and wrote notes while they dug. She realised she had to invent half of yesterday's entries so the Gross woman would not suspect anything odd. This was not difficult.

An hour before lunch, Sturmbannf�hrer Gross reappeared with an armoured vehicle containing several SS soldiers from the enlisted ranks. They looked like boys.

"Great," muttered Janice, "anyone would have thought we were a damn threat, not a few archaeologists."

Gross spoke to Mellard briefly. He nodded, casting a worried glance at Janice across the site. She shrugged and continued working. With an order from Gross the soldiers dispersed through the tents, searching. After a while, the soldiers gathered in the open area in front of the tents, holding a variety of weapons, even a machete. Nobody approached Janice so she assumed her weapon was still safe, "SS my arse," she mumbled.

At the appearance of the soldiers her workmen almost panicked, but she managed to calm them, telling them that there was no danger. They trusted her and accepted the explanation. Doggedly they continued to remove deposit. Just before lunch, her attention was drawn to one workman sitting with his back to her. He had reached for a brush. She frowned, there was no need to use a brush on this deposit so she jumped into the trench to question him. Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she noticed the man had uncovered a complete amphora, and it was sealed!

"Why didn't you call me over?" she asked, angry at the man, but not letting it show. He looked at her guiltily.

"Surprise?" he asked.

"Yeah, surprise alright! Mel?" she began to call the woman over with the camera but realised she was in the 'office'. She instructed the man to clean the area while she went to get the camera herself. She returned and snapped off a few shots of the vessel before allowing the man to remove it. She carried it over to the 'office', but before she got halfway she was stopped by Gross.

"Where are you taking that?" she asked.

Janice gave her a withering look, "To the 'office' for cataloguing and storage," she said.

"I want it opened," Gross demanded.

"It needs to be opened in a controlled environment," Janice shot. She could not believe this woman held two PhD's.

"You will open it today, now! Come with me."

Janice bit back her retort and followed the Sturmbannf�hrer to the 'office'. When they entered, Mel looked up from the fragment of parchment she had begun to work on shortly before. All around her lay other fragments on trays.

"Put it down over there," ordered Gross.

Janice complied but turned to the woman, "I am not one of your soldiers to order about and do your bidding. The only difference between you and me is that you wear that uniform!" she snarled.

Gross snorted, "I doubt that very much Dr. Covington. Melinda, I see you are working already, you work fast and are therefore a credit to this excavation," she said. Mel looked at her, schooling her face to blankness.

"Now, Dr. Covington, if you would open the vessel please?" she asked.

"I need some tools," Janice muttered. This was sacrilegious.

"Get what you need."

Janice rummaged around on the benches for a few moments, glancing at Mel occasionally. She finally settled for a probe and scalpel. She returned to the vessel.

"I wouldn't normally do it like this," she began, "but I don't have the lab, or the time, apparently?"

"Just open it!"

"Okay, okay!" She took a deep breath and carefully began cracking the dried clay around the rim of the vessel. The sealing had long since fallen off. After a few minutes, she laid the vessel on its side to allow the loose material to fall to the bench. She righted it and continued working her way around. Eventually the rim was clear and a plug of dried clay fell from the opening. She laid it aside and moved to peer into the interior or the vessel but was pushed roughly aside by Gross. Mel was watching the incident out of the corner of her eye.

"Je-sus, calm down, it's only a pot!" Janice said annoyed.

"Give me the probe!" demanded Gross. Janice handed it over. The SS officer carefully prodded at something in the vessel before nodding in satisfaction. "Perfect," she said before reaching her hand in and removing a complete scroll. Janice's jaw dropped, Mel gasped.

Gross placed the scroll on a clean part of the table and proceeded to roll it out carefully. She smiled wickedly, "Melinda Pappas, you will translate this for me now."

"Ah, it will take a while," said Mel, licking her lips. She couldn't believe that the first real scroll they had recovered was in Nazi hands.

"I want the translation by this evening. I will check on you periodically," with that she exited the tent.

"Je-sus!" swore Janice, "Can you do it?" she asked.

"I can only try Janice," she replied, "Why don't you put it on a tray and bring it over here?" she asked.

Janice located a free tray and transferred the document. She carried it over to Mel's table and placed it where the translator had cleared a space. Mel smiled at Janice as she took a fresh piece of paper. She breathed deeply and glanced at the scroll.

"What do you think?" asked Janice.

"Give me a minute," she scanned the scroll quickly and sat back, "I think we have a problem," she said finally.

"Why?"

"This scroll talks about a sword, the Sword of Hephaestus," she frowned.

"But the Gross woman doesn't know we," she lowered her voice so Mel had to lean close to hear, "have it. It could be anywhere on the site, or anywhere else for that matter."

"True. What about the notes?"

"Taken care of."

"And the workmen?"

Janice smiled, "They hate the Nazis, they'll say nothing."

Mel sighed, "Okay, I suppose I can translate it," she said.

Janice nodded, "Lunch?" she invited but Mel shook her head.

"No time, I'll need every second to get this done by tonight."

"I'll bring you something," Janice said as she moved to leave. Mel turned back to the scroll.

"Janice, have I ever told you how much I love you?" she said quietly.

Janice Covington grinned, "No," she said as she strode out of the tent.

Mel shook her head, smiling, the woman was incorrigible. She set to work on the scroll.

Sturmbannf�hrer Gross reappeared after lunch to check on Mel.

"Have you made much progress?" she asked.

Mel sat back in her chair, stretching, she had not moved for the last hour.

"It's in a complex dialect, but I can read it," she said, looking at her notes. "The syntax is a little convoluted, but the meaning is clear. This is what I have so far,

Evil that dwells in the sky, continually searching. Removed from earth for sins greater than any other. Immortality the burden, forever lost, always watching but never a part. For her, torture greater than Prometheus, to be saved only by one.

That's as far as I've got," she looked up. Gross had turned a sickly shade of pale, sweat glistened on her forehead.

"Are you alright?" asked Mel, not really concerned.

"Yes, keep working," was all Gross managed to say before she stumbled from the tent. She stood outside, supporting herself on a pole, "It's here, so close, so close," she mumbled.

________________________________________

Chapter Fourteen

Janice was making her way to the 'office' with Mel's lunch when she saw Gross stumble out and lean up against the side of the tent. The woman removed her hat to fan herself, and then she reached up to undo her hair. She let it fall about her shoulders in a blonde wave. She looked up and stared at Janice, cold eyes boring into her. Janice almost dropped Me'ls lunch.

"Oh God!" she whispered, shaking her head trying to dislodge the image of the woman from her head. Suddenly she realised what was so familiar about the woman, those eyes, fine features and hair. She hadn't noticed it with her hair back, but now, it was all too clear. Callisto. Janice took a deep breath and walked to the tent entrance.

"What are you doing?" demanded Gross.

"I'm bringing Mel's lunch over here, as she does not have time to eat at the tent Sturmbannf�hrer," she said, hoping the woman could not hear the waver in her voice. This was the woman who had sliced Gabrielle's throat open on numerous occasions in her dreams, now she was here, right in front of her.

"Be quick, there are some things I need to discuss with you," she said.

Janice nodded and bolted into the tent, merely happy to be out of the woman's gaze. Mel was bent over the scroll like her life depended on it, it probably did.

"Mel!" Janice whispered, getting the translator's attention, "Here, eat this," she placed the food on the table and dragged a seat over for herself. Mel began eating.

"Mel, she's Callisto!"

The translator almost choked.

"What?! That's impossible," she said wiping a hand over her mouth.

"No it's not.," Janice sat forward in her chair, leaning half on the bench. "Think about it, Ursula Gross, Big Bear, and if that fails, she's a damned Major in the SS! Voila: Callisto," she said with a flourish.

Mel was shaking her head, "How can that be?"

"I don't know, all I know is what I see and what I feel. I see blonde hair, brown eyes, and an evil streak. I feel like my throat is about to be cut. My gut is telling me this is what we were waiting for Mel," she frowned, pulled a cigarillo from her breast pocket and lit it.

"Well, if you're right, she's after the sword, to end it. Maybe that's not such a bad thing?"

"Somehow I don't think so Mel, there's more to it than that."

"Have you finished?" said a voice at the tent flap.

Janice and Mel jumped and glanced at each other. How much had she heard?

"Yeah, I was just having a smoke," Janice managed to cover up.

Gross grunted, "I must speak with you Dr. Covington. Melinda, keep working, you are doing well."

Janice rose and followed the Sturmbannf�hrer out of the tent. She was heading for Janice's trench. One of the SS soldiers was walking along the side, holding Janice's holster and .44. Janice shivered but managed to keep walking along side the woman. She glanced at the weapon and licked her lips nervously.

Gross reached the trench just ahead of her and took the dirty holster from the soldier. She removed the revolver and examined it.

"Is this your weapon?" she asked turning to Janice.

"No," lied Janice blankly.

Gross backhanded her across the face so hard she almost spun around. Janice slowly straightened herself and spat blood from her mouth.

"That was not wise. I ask again, is this your weapon?"

"I say again, no!"

Another powerful backhand cracked against her jaw. The woman was strong for her size.

"You are very stupid Dr. Covington. If this is not your weapon, what was it doing buried under you bed?"

"Gee, I dunno, someone must of put it there to hide it from you," she worked her jaw, feeling it cautiously with her fingers.

Gross nodded thoughtfully. She turned the gun in her hands, "And if this is not your weapon Dr. Covington, who is J.C? Jesus Christ?" she asked sarcastically.

"Shit!" she'd forgotten about the initials carved by her father on the base of the butt.

"Let this be a warning to you. I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. If anything like this happens again, I will not be so lenient. Am I understood?"

"Completely," Janice spat more blood at her feet.

Gross and the SS soldier left the side of the trench heading towards Mellard. Janice shook her head and jumped down in to trench. She could feel a bruise developing along the left side of her face. Several of the workmen came up to her. One of them offered her some water which she took, swilled some around her mouth and spat.

"Thanks," she said wiping at her mouth with the cuff of her sleeve and staring over towards Gross.

"She bad Miss Jan."

"No shit!" Janice said, patting the man on the shoulder, "C'mon, let's work," she managed a smile although it hurt. She moved to gather the camera in order to take some working shots of the excavation.

"Jesus!" she yelped, "Where's the film?" she turned to the workmen, "Film?" she asked, pointing at the camera.

"German," came the reply.

"Oh God!" she couldn't believe she had been so idiotic. The goddamn film! It was the only thing she didn't think of, it had pictures of the sword, and now Gross had it. She had to tell Mellard. She motioned for the workmen to continue what they were doing as stalked over to Mellard's trench.

"Covington!" he said when he saw her. "I told you not to do anything stupid. I've spoken to Gross, she said she found your gun, and by the looks of it she's already found you."

Janice grimaced, "By the feel of it too, Mellard, but we've got a bigger problem right now," she said. He looked at her questioningly.

"Gross has the film from my camera."

"So, she has everyone's."

Janice shook her head, "The film I was using to take photographs yesterday, in situ photographs," she hinted.

Horror dawned on Mellard's face, "I see."

Mellard still thought this was still about keeping a priceless object from the Nazis and Janice was not about to enlighten him further, the less people who knew about Callisto the better.

"I can't see that we can do anything about it?"

"She's not going to get it Covington."

"How are you going to explain it, Mellard?" Janice shot back.

"We'll say one of the workmen stole it and local investigation is currently under way," he nodded.

"No way, you're not going to do that to the workmen, she'll kill whoever you accuse."

"And what do you think she'll do to us?"

"I don't know. You're safe, plead ignorance. It came from Mel's and my trench, we can deal with it. Don't worry Mellard, you can save your skin," she said with scorn.

"I can't allow you to do that!" he spluttered.

"Yes you can and you will. I'm telling you, don't concern yourself with it, Mel and I can handle it. I gotta go speak to Mel," she left Mellard staring after her.

________________________________________

Chapter Fifteen

"That's what it says Sturmbannf�hrer, you can deny it all you like. You wanted a translation, I'm giving you one." Stated Mel matter of factly.

"Read it again," Gross sounded nervous, her eyes flicking about.

Mel sighed, she had been arguing with Gross about the translation of the next passage in the scroll for the last five minutes. It seemed Gross did not want to be believe her, but she had no reason to lie, 'If she is Callisto, there's reason for her to be nervous,' she thought.

"Alright, it says:

Sword of Hephaestus, of iron forged, blessed by Zeus, to kill the Bear. When the sky has fallen and one arises, make this choice, eternity or ceaseless death, they cannot be easily dealt. No self wielded wound shall strike the mark.

That's what it says; it hasn't changed since the last time I read it."

"What does the 'no self wielded wound' phrase mean exactly?" Gross asked.

Mel looked at her as if she was dense, "It means you can't kill yourself with the sword."

Both women turned to face the opening to the tent as Janice let her self in. She pulled up short, staring at Gross.

"I didn't know you were here," she said, "I'll come back later."

"It's alright Dr. Covington, there's nothing you can't say in my presence."

Janice smiled crookedly and stepped the rest of the way in to the tent.

"Oh my!" shouted Mel as soon as she saw Janice's face. The entire left side was purple, "What happened?" she asked bolting towards the archaeologist. She tried to examine the bruise but Janice pushed her aside with some difficulty.

"They found my gun Mel, that's all."

"And did this to you? Who was it? Was it one of those boy scouts? Why I'll-" Janice was looking at her with pleading eyes, begging her to stop.

"It was me, Miss Pappas. I do not tolerate disobedience. Dr. Covington was treated accordingly," she moved to stand beside Melinda who rose to her full height, hoping to intimidate the woman. It wasn't working.

"Miss Pappas, do you know who I am? Do not try any silly games with me, they will not work I can assure you," she said coldly.

Mel nodded, "I know who you are alright, or at least I know what you are," she growled.

Gross laughed, "You idle insults are useless Miss Pappas, I find them quite amusing. If you will excuse me, I must return to Thessaloniki. I have some film to have developed," with a final laugh she swept out of the tent.

When Gross had gone Janice closed the tent flap. Mel was fussing about her again and this time she let the woman have her way.

"Okay, okay, you can have a look at it, but I don't think anything can be done, it's just a bruise."

"Just a bruise, Janice Covington! Nothing that ever happens to you is 'just' anything. Why do you let these things happen?" she asked, trying to control the emotion in her voice.

"What? You think I asked her to hit me in the face, twice? Maybe once I can understand, but twice Mel, no, I'd never ask that," Janice was hurting and this was the only way she could cover it up.

"Twice? Oh Janice?" Mel shook her head. She had to sit down other wise she'd fall down. She couldn't believe what that the woman she loved was capable of doing these things to herself. She sat in her chair with her head in her hands, letting the tears come and run silently down her face.

"Hey," said Janice softly, moving over to squat by Mel, she placed a hand on her knee, "Don't cry, its okay, really?" she said lamely.

"It's not okay Janice," she was highly aware of the other woman's hand on her knee. It felt like it was burning right through her trousers. "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you go off and act crazy, getting yourself hurt?" she asked as she felt the hand move higher. She took a deep, calming breath, "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me Janice Covington?"

Janice turned so she was on her knees in front of Mel, "Show me," she said, looking at the translator with hooded eyes.

"I can't, not here!" said Mel desperately.

"Then let me," Janice whispered, moving her hand up over Janice's hip to her midriff where she undid two buttons on Mel's shirt. Slipping her hand inside, she caressed the woman's warm skin.

"Oh my!" muttered Mel as she jerked at the touch. Instinctively she pushed herself forward on the chair. She was loosing herself so much in Janice's soft caress that she didn't notice Janice's other hand move up to undo the buttons of her fly until it was too late.

"Janice?" she said, her breath catching in her throat. She grasped at the table edge for support. She felt like she was about to melt away all together in this woman's embrace. She was finding it increasingly hard to breathe.

Janice had her hand half inside Mel's trousers when the tent flap was flung open and a stunned Naomi stood gaping at the scene. Janice flew backwards and attempted to stand when she realised what was happening, although it ended in an awkward stumble. Mel shrieked and hastily began buttoning her shirt before standing on shaky legs.

"Naomi!" she gasped, "What are you doing here?"

"I?I just came to get some things, this is the 'office' after all," she said, glancing back and forth between the two women. Janice had pulled out a cigarillo and began to smoke it casually as if nothing untoward had happened. Mel on the other hand was bright crimson and obviously flustered. "But don't worry, I can get them later. I didn't mean to interrupt? anything."

"We were just working," said Mel in a shaky voice.

"Uh-huh, and I'm Joan of Arc," she turned to leave but said over her shoulder, "by the way Mel, your fly's undone."

Mel automatically glanced down and let out a loud groan when she realised the woman spoke true. Hastily she did the offending buttons up.

"Thanks," she muttered under her breath as Naomi exited the tent with a laugh.

"Oh God," Mel groaned as she sank back down in to her chair, mortified, "What are we going to do?"

Janice sighed and took a drag on her cigarillo. She ignored Mel's question, "Gross has the film from yesterday."

Mel tried to concentrate her thoughts. She was feeling very much out of sorts, "And she's just taken it to get developed," she said finally, smoothing her hands down her thighs.

"Right."

Mel looked at her, "I don't think we should do anything, we just have to take what comes."

"That's what I thought. I told Mellard not to worry, that we'd deal," she winked, discarding her cigarillo.

"Probably for the best, Janice," Mel said, unsure of what else to say. She had to look away.

"Yeah," she nodded, "how's the translation coming along?"

Mel shook her head, "I don't think Gross is very happy."

"What have you got so far?" asked Janice, leaning over Mel's shoulder to look at her notes.

"Well, the fact that Callisto dwelt in the sky and could be saved only by one, which I assume is the sword. She can't kill herself, someone has to do it for her-" she broke off, "Janice," she said breathlessly, "I can't think straight when you stand so close to me. It's like I can almost feel you, how can you stand it?"

"Weeks of practice sweetheart."

"Weeks?" she asked.

"Well, more like months really," said Janice softly into Mel's ear, grasping the lobe in her lips. Mel groaned as Janice sucked lightly on the soft flesh. The tilted her head back as Janice began moving her lips down the side of her neck. She could smell the faint odour of cigarillo smoke on Janice's breath.

"You're crazy," Mel whispered, unable to move.

"Uh-huh," Janice mumbled into Mel's throat. She wrapped her arms around the woman below her breasts and began to work her mouth over Mel's shoulder. Mel closed her eyes and reached up and undid the top buttons of her shirt so Janice could work her way along. She was surprised when Janice broke the contact and was shocked a second later to find that contact returned against her lips, softly at first, but then more demanding. It was intoxicating. Janice's hair brushed lightly on the bare skin of her shoulder. Mel opened her lips slightly and was rewarded with an incredibly sensual kiss. Eventually Mel broke the contact, in desperate need of oxygen.

"My God!" she said, gasping for breath, "What was that?"

"You didn't like it?"

"No! I mean yes, I liked it," she grinned stupidly, "but we've got to stop this Janice," she tried to be rational all the while her body was telling her throw logic to the wind. "Naomi is one thing, but what if it was Gross? How would we deal with that?"

Janice nodded, "Your right of course," she said straightening up with a sigh, "How do I manage to get myself into things like this?" she asked.

"Because you're Janice Covington and you wouldn't have it any other way."

Janice managed a smile, "So tell me about the rest of the text. I'll just stand over here," She took a few steps away from Mel. Mel returned the smile and turned to her notes, pushing distracting thoughts to the back of her mind.

"She can't kill herself with the sword. It also talks about the sky falling, which I suppose is the disappearance of Ursa Major, then 'one will rise'; a choice must be made between eternity and ceaseless death. I'm not sure what that means, or who has to make the choice. Perhaps it will become clearer when I've translated the complete text," she said, removing her glasses and glancing across at Janice. "Whatever it is, she's being punished for something dreadful. Her punishment is immortality. Someone has to make a decision whether or not she has won the right of death after two and a half thousand years," she finished.

"We know from the Xena Scrolls that Callisto was considered evil incarnate," Janice managed a soft laugh, "and she's now running around in the SS bashing people in the face. Guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks," she said, fingering her jaw.

Mel nodded, "Let me finish translating the scroll, there may be something in here to help us," she said, lightly tapping the document with her pen.

"Right, I'll let you get on with it. Oh and Mel?" Janice asked as she made her way to the entrance, "Your fly's undone."

Mel instinctively glanced down, but all the buttons were done up. She glared at the archaeologist.

"Gotcha!" Janice said as she strode from the tent.

Mel shook her head, smiling. She put her glasses back on, blew out a breath and turned back to the scroll.

________________________________________

Chapter Sixteen

The rest of the afternoon passed without much concern. The workmen finished for the day, packed up and left. Janice sat around in her tent, smoking cigarillos and trying to think of a way to deal with Gross. The SS had left guards at the site and no-one much cared to wander about under their gaze. Mel sat studiously in the 'office' translating away. Sturmbannf�hrer Gross did not return until later that evening. When she did, she headed straight for the 'office' and Mel.

"Have you finished the translation?" she asked as she stormed through the flap.

Mel did not look up, "I'm on the last passage. If you wait a few minutes, I'll have it for you," was all she said.

"Good."

Gross occupied herself by wandering around the 'office' looking at various objects, picking things up occasionally to examine them. It was then she came across the strange piece of twisted, corroded metal. "Where was this found?" she asked, picking up the object, almost caressing it.

Mel looked around and frowned, "I believe it came out this morning, Janice found it."

"Why was I not informed?" she demanded.

Mel shrugged, "It did not seem important."

"Do you know what this is? It's from my?it's from some armour."

"Interesting," said Mel, noticing Gross' slip. She wondered where this was going.

"You have not recovered any skeletal remains from your trench?" she asked.

That was odd, "No, none at all. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you found the body to which this belonged?"

"Should we have? It could have been an armoury."

Gross appeared flustered, "Of course," she said, "Now, the translation?"

"I'll begin from the top?" asked Mel, Gross nodded in agreement. With a deep breath Mel began.

"Evil that dwells in the sky, continually searching. Removed from earth for sins greater than any other. Immortality the burden, forever lost, always watching but never a part. For her, torture greater than Prometheus, to be saved only by one. Sword of Hephaestus, of iron forged, blessed by Zeus, to kill the Bear. When the sky has fallen and one arises, make this choice, eternity or ceaseless death, they cannot be easily dealt. No self wielded wound shall strike the mark. Do not struggle, for there is one among you to whom this choice is destined. Guided by the hand of Lachesis, the apportioner of lots, Clotho will bind the thread tightly and Atropus deal what will be, to punish the transgression. So being judged the path will lie open. Fear not the return of the Bear, when all is justly aligned, freedom will out-govern despair. Sword of Hephaestus, of iron forged, blessed by Zeus, to kill the Bear."

Mel looked up at Gross, "I take it the Bear is Callisto?" she asked wearily, looking for a response.

Gross was nodding, a far away look in her eye. If Mel did not know better, she would say it was wistful, "Freedom," she muttered.

"Freedom from what?"

"Life, immortality. We must find the sword!" Gross said, straightening.

"What makes you think it is here?" asked Mel, a little unsure how she should proceed.

"I know. I will return in the morning with my team and we will redouble our efforts in Covington's trench. That is where the sword lies Miss Pappas, and I intend to have it!" she swept out of the tent, leaving Mel alone. After a while she rose, gathered her translation and headed to Janice's tent.

Janice sat on her cot, reading Mel's translation. After a few minutes, she threw the thing down beside her, "So basically she gets what she goddamn wants."

Mel frowned at the language but shook her head, "I don't think so, see," she said pointing to a phrase, "It says that the Fates will 'punish the transgression'. Then it goes on to say that 'freedom will out-govern despair', but not in reference to Callisto -"

Janice cut her off, "But it still says 'to kill the Bear'. she said.

"Kill can mean a number of things, maybe it simply means not present. I don't know," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I guess we find out tomorrow hey?"

"Yes, we shall. I need to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow," Mel rose to leave but Janice put a hand on her arm.

"You could stay," she said simply.

Mel shook her head, "Both you and I know that would not be an incredibly sane thing to do Janice," she tried to pull her arm out of the woman's grasp.

"Why can't you just feel for Christ's sake?" Janice almost shouted.

Mel looked at her. "I am feeling, God knows I am, more than I've ever felt before, but we can't do this, not here, not now," she ended.

"Why the hell not?"

"You were the one warning me earlier and I won't allow you to hurt yourself Janice Covington," she bowed her head, "that's why not."

Janice stared at her, tears stinging her eyes. She told herself she would not cry, not in front of this woman, not about this, "Don't you think that's a decision I can make for myself?" she asked with feeling. "Go, I'll be fine."

"Thank you," murmured Mel.

"For what?"

"For caring about yourself for a change," Mel smiled at Janice and kissed the palm of her hand lightly before leaving the tent.

"Goddammit!" swore Janice, kicking at the ground, before dissolving into tears on her cot.

________________________________________

Chapter Seventeem

Xena heard the insane cackle from behind before she had time to react. She spun, sword in hand, only to be confronted by Callisto dragging Gabrielle backward, knife to her throat.

"I'm back! Did you miss me?" asked Callisto with a wicked laugh. Gabrielle struggled against the warrior's vice-like grip, but it was useless.

"Xena?" Gabrielle choked. She could not believe the woman was standing motionless.

"Don't worry Gabrielle. It doesn't matter," she said coldly, sheathing her sword.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" asked Callisto. Things were not going to plan.

"Why should it? She's just a bard. I can get another of those in most towns," Xena shrugged dismissively, "Besides, she's annoying, and she eats too much."

"Xena?.what are you saying?" Gabrielle could not believe her ears. This was Xena? Talking about her?

"Go on Callisto, finish it, I know you can," She nodded towards the stricken bard.

Callisto looked confused, she shook her head violently, "You can't mean that! She means more to you than your own life! You're nothing without her!" she screamed.

"If you truly think that, then you're less than me," Xena smiled and turned her back. She heard Gabrielle screaming behind her and then all was silent. After several minutes she heard a scrabbling on the ground, and then a tentative voice, "Xena?" it asked.

Janice was awakened by rough hands on her shoulders hauling her out of bed.

"Hey!" she began to protest but a fist slammed in to her already bruised jaw. She was dragged out in to the cold light of dawn. She looked up and noticed Mel was already standing, slumped against one of the SS soldiers, blood running from her nose. She caught her gaze and a thin line of panic flashed between them. Janice mouthed the word 'sorry', but she was unsure whether Mel understood.

Two chairs had been brought out and set down by the side of the site. Janice was roughly pushed in to one and tied securely. Her arms were twisted painfully behind the broad back of the chair and her ankles were secured to the legs. Mel followed soon after. She attempted to kick the soldier dragging her across the ground but received a swift back handed blow to the side of her face. 'I'm the one who puts myself in danger?' wondered Janice. Gross had obviously got the film back. The Sturmbannf�hrer was currently a short distance away watching the scene. Various other members of Mellard's team were poking their heads out of tents. Gross was holding a black and white print in her hand, slapping it against her palm. Taking a deep breath she stalked over to Janice.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked coldly, shoving the print in Janice's face.

"It's a photograph."

Gross nodded at a soldier who quickly backhanded Mel. Janice jumped. Mel spat blood, staring defiantly across at Janice.

"You will not be insolent, and you will answer my questions, or I will continue to beat your?friend," she said.

Janice nodded, "It's a sword recovered from my trench the day before yesterday."

"Where is it now and why was it not shown to me directly?"

Janice glanced again at Mel.

"Do not look at her, look at me!"

Janice heard another blow slam into Mel followed by a groan. Janice's anger was boiling inside her.

"There was no need for that! I'm answering your damn questions!" she shouted.

Another blow. Janice shut up. She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Now, where is the sword and why was I not shown it directly?" she asked

Janice took a deep breath, "The sword is in the store." She did not elaborate, "It was not shown to you directly because we did not want such an important find sent to Berlin and never seen again," she finished.

"Where in the store, it has already been searched," Gross demanded.

"We buried it, behind the containers at the back. That's where you'll find it," Janice admitted.

Gross nodded for several soldiers to go back to the tent and recover the weapon. She walked over to Mel and raised her head with the tips of her fingers, staring in fascination at the blood stained features.

"Janice Covington has been very stupid to have allowed this occur to you Melinda Pappas. I trust this idiocy is not duplicated in you."

Mel looked at her out of one swelling eye, "She's not the stupid one?Callisto."

Gross jumped back as if she had been struck with a burning brand, "What did you call me?" she asked, astonished.

Mel licked her lips and tasted blood, "I called you by name. That is who you are, isn't it, Callisto?" She tried to shrug but her bonds prevented much movement. "It wasn't difficult to figure out. Janice had it almost straight away. You could have thought of a less revealing name than Ursula Gross," she let her head fall back down to her chest.

"How dare you!" screamed Callisto as she snapped Mel's head back with a wicked blow. Janice yelled. Mel recovered slightly and stretched her neck.

"How old are you now? Two and a half thousand? Must say you're looking mighty fine for such a crone. Then again, you've spent most of that just hanging around."

Callisto brought her hand back to deliver another blow, but Mel continued talking in a low voice.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you. If you kill me, who'll kill you? Don't you want your 'freedom'?"

Janice glanced across at the two women, Callisto appeared to be shaking. Some of the SS soldiers were either backing off or moving to protect Callisto. Mel was sitting with as much calm dignity as her injuries would allow. "How can you< be of assistance to me? You're nothing!" Callisto growled, lowering her fist.

"Ah, but you forget. I'm the descendant of Xena. All you used her for was a weapon, but it never worked, did it? And Gabrielle, you once said Xena was nothing without her. Guess again, I'm here, and there's more of her in me than nothing ever was."

Callisto was speechless, her mouth worked but no sound issued. Suddenly the noise of running steps was heard behind and two of the SS soldiers sent to recover the sword were standing at attention at Callisto's side.

"We regret to inform you Sturmbann�hrer, but the sword is gone," one of then said, snapping a salute.

"WHAT?!" roared Callisto, striking the man across the face.

"The sword is not there," Ventured the other man, almost cowering.

Callisto spun back to Mel, rage shining in her eyes, "Where is it?" she demanded.

Mel gave her a confused look, "It was buried in the tent by myself, Janice and?Mellard," she finished. He must have taken the sword, but where?

"Find Mellard," Callisto said, "and bring him to me."

John Mellard was hiding in his tent, listening to the goings on outside. He was an idiot; he should have run last night when he recovered the sword. He sat on his cot, cradling the sword in his arms, desperately trying to think what to do. His tent would be the first place the soldiers looked. Quickly the lifted the back flap of his tent and tried to slink away.

"Quick, there he goes!"

Mellard heard the shout no more than fifty feet behind him as he negotiated the steep slope of the gully running at the back of the tent line. He hazarded a glance toward the noise and saw three SS soldiers running after him. That glance saved his life for the first time. He tripped on the uneven ground and went down, a bullet whistling past his head. He had let go of the sword and it lay a short distance from him. Quickly he scrabbled to retrieve it and regain his footing. Jumping upright, he again dashed off in the direction of the tree line some hundred yards away. Unfortunately there was little cover on this mad dash and Mellard was forced to duck and weave continually in an attempt at evasive manoeuvres from the bullets that went flying passed. Eventually one caught him in the shoulder; he staggered, almost knocked off balance by the force of the shot. He lifted his free hand to the wound, it came back bloody. The arm that was hit was rapidly becoming numb as a fiery pain surged in his shoulder. Another bullet struck him in the lower back, sending him to his knees. He screamed but continued to crawl towards the trees. There was no way he was going to make it, he knew that. He could hear the soldiers rushing towards him as his life blood pounded in his ears and over the rough terrain. He lay there on his back, staring up at the sky as a face swam into his line of vision. With every ounce of strength he had left, he brought the Sword of Hephaestus to bear slicing into the side of the man standing over him. The man collapsed, the full weight of his body bearing down on the sword. The SS soldier slumped over Mellard, dead. He pushed the dead man off him and attempted to rise, using the sword as a support.

"Stay where you are!" came the shout from one of the other soldiers. Mellard laughed, coughing blood, ignoring him.

"I said stay where you are," the soldier repeated.

Mellard was halfway to standing when a bullet shattered his ribcage. Another entered his neck sending gouts of blood spraying into the surrounding earth. Still another bullet hit him in the guts, tearing his insides to pieces. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The sounds of gunfire sent the SS soldiers guarding Mel and Janice to reach for their weapons. Callisto spun and headed towards the sound at a trot. Mel glanced up behind her and saw her guard move to the side. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She had surreptitiously been working away at her bonds on a rusty nail protruding from the back of the chair. With a surge of strength she did not know she possessed, she broke the final threads of the rope and sat there, holding them behind her. Her legs were still a problem, but if the soldier would just come close enough?

She waited for what seemed like an eternity before the man shifted slightly. She dropped her bonds and lunged sideways in her chair, toppling it over and tackling the man about the legs. He tried to twist and fire, but Mel was too quick. She pinned the man's gun hand down, bashing it on the ground until he released the weapon. Quickly she snatched up the Luger and sent a round into the soldier's temple. She twisted as best she could and shot the SS soldier who had been guarding Janice at almost point blank range as he was looming over her. She managed to extricate herself from the chair legs and run to untie Janice.

"Hey," she said, glancing around, the SS soldiers were making their way back from the tents, and Callisto was with them. "Let's get you out of this," she bent down behind Janice and swiftly untied her hands before moving to her legs. Janice just stared at her dumbfounded.

"C'mon Janice, we gotta move!" she said, hauling the archaeologist to her feet. Janice staggered upright and dashed to the fallen SS man who had been guarding her. She retrieved his pistol and headed straight for the trenches. Mel was right behind her, scanning the scene. Janice and Mel jumped in a trench and hunkered down by the section.

"Je-sus Mel, how'd you do that?" Janice asked, finally finding her voice.

"I don't know; I just did. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I'm still me, if that's what you mean," she shrugged.

"Damn right thing to do."

Janice glanced over the side of the trench and ducked suddenly as a bullet thumped into the ground nearby, sending up a sharp spray of dirt.

"Jesus, we're trapped!" she shouted.

"Not if I can help it," muttered Mel, "cover me."

Janice sighed and lifted her hand above the edge of the trench and fired several unaimed bullets in the direction she thought Callisto and the others were coming from. Mel scooted around to the other side of the trench and eased herself out onto her stomach behind a spoil heap. Using this as cover, she fired several times into the on coming trio. One of the soldiers went down, he was holding the sword. The other soldier was firing wildly at the spoil heap.

"You idiot!" screamed Callisto at the soldier as she bent to pick up the sword. "Don't kill her, I need her you fool!" she said as she brought the sword about and decapitated the man. His head fell from his shoulders with a dull thud; his body followed him to the earth. All was silent apart from the occasional round coming from Janice.

"You can stop now!" yelled Mel over her shoulder. The firing ceased and a tentative Janice poked her head above the trench line to view the scene of massacre about her. She saw Mel climbing to her feet and an enraged Callisto seething over a decapitated man. Mel dropped the Luger to the ground and rose to her full height. Janice slowly pulled herself out of the trench and stumbled over to Mel.

Callisto was headed their way with the sword, with defiance she stood in front of the translator.

"So, you're the 'one' the scroll speaks of," she said.

"Apparently," Mel said coldly.

Callisto threw the sword down at her feet. Janice was simply staring back and forth between the women. She felt like she should be doing something, but could not think what.

"Pick it up," ordered Callisto.

"Since when has any of my line done anything you demand?" Mel sneered in a gravelly voice.

"Since now! Now pick it up!" Callisto had moved so swiftly that Mel did not have time to react. She had grabbed Janice by the throat and was pointing a gun under her jaw. Ironically it was Janice's own .44.

"Shit!" choked Janice, this time it was real, "Mel!" she pleaded, "Do something!" she tried to grab at the woman's arms but realised it was useless.

Slowly Mel bent to pick up the sword. Callisto relaxed slightly.

"You don't want to do this Callisto," Mel said evenly, fighting for calm amid the rage of emotions flooding through her. She had just killed three men, and now Janice was threatened.

"Yes I do, it's the only thing I have ever wanted from one of 'your line', but Xena was too weak to comply. Maybe you'll do better." To emphasise her point she shoved the gun hard into the soft flesh under Janice's jaw-line. Janice let out a whimper of pain, wild eyes rolling in her head.

"Give me one good reason to kill you," Mel snarled.

Janice couldn't believe it 'Hello Goddamn it, I'm right here!' she thought desperately but unable to say a word.

"If you don't, your little friend's brains will be splattered all the way to Timbuktu, and I know how much she means to you, just like Gabrielle."

"You know nothing," Mel spat, leaning on the sword. "You've never cared for anything in your life, not even your family. You don't even care for yourself, only death, but it seems death does not care for you. What makes you think this sword will kill you?"

Mel could see the rage building behind immortal eyes, "You killed my family!" Callisto screamed.

"Xena killed your family, a long time ago, so long ago history barely remembers, and yet you carry this around with you. Why don't you just let it go?" she asked, glancing at Janice.

"I can't!" she screamed, "It's who I am. I don't have a stupid bard to drag around and make me real. I don't have anything, just pain, and I'm sick of it! Do it Melinda!" Callisto threw Janice aside. The archaeologist lay gasping for breath on the ground, hands to her throat.

Mel laughed, "Ah Callisto, take your 'freedom' then!" with that, she launched the Sword of Hephaestus like a spear towards the crazed woman. It struck her in the chest, running her through. For a moment nothing happened. Callisto staggered back, grasping the hilt of the sword protruding from her chest with both hands. She looked at Mel with stricken eyes before staggering slightly. She tried to pull the blade free, but it would not budge.

"What have you done?" she asked, blood bubbling to her mouth from shattered lungs.

"Your freedom Callisto," said Mel, staring at the woman, she made a broad offering gesture with her arm.

Callisto screamed as the area surrounding the wound began to smoke. Black plumes rose from the swaying woman, billowing into the sky. Sparks erupted from her torso, small flames shot up, searing her clothing and burning her hair. Callisto dropped to her knees, still grasping the sword.

"Noooo?" she cried as she was engulfed in flames. She could feel her being wax and wain within her burning shell. With every wisp of smoke that drifted skyward she was loosing herself. The last thing she heard before dissolving completely was Mel's words.

"Our freedom Callisto, ours."

Silently she screamed.

________________________________________

Chapter Eighteen

The charred corpse lurched sideways to the ground, breaking into several pieces. The Sword of Hephaestus fell free and shattered like glass on the ground. A thousand metal splinters lay glistening.

Mel sank to her knees, holding her head in her hands, the pain of her injuries finally reaching her. "Oh God," she murmured, placing a hand over a throbbing eye. Janice had crawled up beside her and wrapped her arms about her protectively.

"Mel?' she whispered in a hoarse voice. She cleared her throat and tried again, this time it was a little better, "Mel? Are you alright?"

She nodded, she wasn't, but she would be, "I'm fine Janice Covington," she said, managing a crooked smile. She looked woefully at the fragmented sword. "Guess we've just got the notes now," she muttered under her breath.

Janice brushed Mel's fringe out of her eyes, but stopped when the woman flinched.

"I'm sorry," all the emotion of the morning was threatening to explode within her, but she schooled her face to sternness. "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you go off and act crazy, getting yourself hurt?" she asked, "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me Melinda Pappas?"

Mel chuckled softly as she heard her own words come back at her, "Janice Covington, why do I have a feeling that I'm going to find out?"

The rest of the team who had been hiding in their tents throughout the commotion had slowly filtered out. Some returned quickly to their perceived sanctuary. Naomi strode over to Janice and Mel as they were helping each other off the ground. She tried to smile, but she was obviously shaken by the surrounding scene. Coming up next to Mel she tried to help Janice support her.

"I'm okay!" protested Mel, shoving both the women away and standing on her own, albeit a little unsteadily.

"Melinda, you are not alright," insisted Naomi. Mel had to lift her head back to see her through swollen eyes.

"I can't see, but I'm fine enough to walk."

Janice shrugged, "Let her have her way," she said, "hang on, I'll be back in a minute." She walked over and retrieved her gun from beside the 'corpse' of Callisto. Shoving it into the back of her trousers she headed back to Mel.

"C'mon Naomi, we've gotta get her to lie down."

Naomi nodded, "Mellard is dead," she said blankly.

"We heard the gun fire and thought as much," was all Janice could manage.

"What happened?" asked Naomi as they struggled towards Janice's tent.

"Just an old score," murmured Mel.

Naomi let it go, not understanding, "You realise you can't stay here, the SS'll be after you. Five SS rankers and a Major have been killed.

"We know, don't worry, we'll meet up with the NDGU or something. We'll get out," said Janice, "she just needs a little rest," she indicated Mel.

"I'm fine!" protested Mel again, but Janice and Naomi would have none of it.

________________________________________

Epilogue

Later that night Janice and Mel crouched in the woods awaiting their pickup, Archondia, one of the curator's from the museum. She was also a resistance fighter and specialised in protection of patriots.

Mel's wounds had been tended to and she looked a hell of a lot better than she did earlier in the day.

"Janice?" she asked, "Where are we going?"

Janice shook her head. She shifted the pack on her back slightly, "I don't know, I guess we'll have to hide out somewhere and we'll get out eventually." She paused, "How did you know about my last dream?"

"What dream?"

"Where Callisto said Xena was nothing without Gabrielle," she explained.

"You dreamed that? I don't know. I thought it was real, almost like I remembered it," she paused, looking at her hands, "I killed three people you know."

"I know," Janice put her arm around her, "but you had to, they would have killed us. You had no choice Mel."

"Doesn't make it any easier Janice Covington," she paused, "How do you deal with it?"

Janice looked at her guiltily and shifted uncomfortably, "I?I don't have to," she admitted softly.

Mel looked at her, frowning, "That's good, I'm glad," she fell silent.

"Mel," began Janice, unsure of how to continue. She reached out a hand and caressed the side of the translator's face briefly, "If you ever fear what you have done, just look up." She pointed to the darkened sky. Mel followed the line of her arm and smiled. Flickering in a black blanket, almost defiantly, was the Great Bear, Ursa Major.

The End