*Editing magic performed by KJ24 and Shyqash, plus contributions by the regular gang of brigands and neer-do-wells*

*It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it*

*Two small notes: first, there is an intentional 'jump' in the time flow in the middle of this chapter and second, there is a complete listing of the Amazon Houses at the end of the chapter.*

[ODD HAPPENINGS]

{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}

I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.

After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch -- with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.

The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive.

"Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?"

"It is a date then," I stumped her.

"You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions.

"Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy."

"And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy.

"Ugh ... I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy -- Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave."

"And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile.

"I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will NOT be an experience you will enjoy."

"I don't know. I think I'd like that."

"No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."

She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds -- the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride.

"Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment.

"Yes. Will you be there?"

"Of course," she grumped.

"Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my '****' -- my apprentice.

"Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit."

"But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice."

"Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped.

"Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me.

"I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services."

"Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?"

"Really?" she whispered.

"Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap."

"I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive pussy and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled.

"I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed.

"Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"

Pause.

"Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again.

"So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?"

"Hardy-har-har," I griped.

"Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan."

"Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?"

"That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement.

"He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him -- Ryuho -- as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia."

"I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled.

"He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity -- the 6 Ninja Families -- are at war with the depth of all Evil -- the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name -- who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery.

"In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth.

"Correct."

"None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit ... and they know the truth," I continued.

"This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare ... which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."

Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong ...

"Ah Hell," I muttered.

Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team.

"He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave."

"I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?"

"The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan -- though it is not 'saved' yet."

"Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny.

"That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting."

"How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered.

"Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom)."

"The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave.

"All four people the augurs -- those Five Sisters -- told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago.

"Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination ... if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on.

"Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more.

"You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity.

"I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?"

"I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless."

"So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired.

"Hmmm ... we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought.

"Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies -- preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight -- and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality."

"That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested.

"The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched."

"Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick -- their Weave sensitivity, ya know -- and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get.

"Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity."

"I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset.

"Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum).

"The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution."

"Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.

'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.

Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House' -- roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.

Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house [a clear majority] and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House [7 seats short of a majority]. If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.

And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution -- namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?

{REAL WORLD STUFF ... WARNING!}

Article 9:

(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.

(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.

If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.

Regionally, EVERY other nation was increasing their military expenditures ... except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win -- they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.

The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.

India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.

All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.

They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.

With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open -- not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus ... who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.

No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).

[The Cornerstone] There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.

To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.

With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.

The US felt the same way -- or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.

A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking ... until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.

Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.

India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.

Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.

Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.

The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.

Japan? Ha.

Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d'état, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.

The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist -- the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.

If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China -- for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.

That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China -- their Marxist confederates -- who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.

If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.

[...]

The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon ... if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World ... worse was heading your way.

The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was DEPRESSION. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.

Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.

If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20 ... which was a shrinking purse.

It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.

Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.

The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'

The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'

The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'

World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet -- we will do what we can.'

[...]

{FYI -- I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Abe, back in Chapter 37. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments ... and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}

The Japanese government had appealed to the US, UN, PRC, ASEAN, India and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:

The USA -- We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)

Japan -- Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.

[...]

The UN -- We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)

Japan -- You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee ... gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?

[...]

The PRC -- We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open ... and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?

Japan -- What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and -- NO! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.

[Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Abe, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}] -- The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor ... right?

[Note from KK to PM] -- Which time?

[Note from PM to the KK] -- Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?

[Note from KK to PM] -- Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.

[Note from PM to KK] -- What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and ... you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?

[Note from KK to PM] -- With all these US and British submarines helping us out ... not very likely, Prime Minister.

[Note from PM to KK] -- Oh ... very good. You are correct -- I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.

[Note from KK to PM] -- It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.

[...]

ASEAN -- What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?

Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.

Japan -- {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory -- bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!

[Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Abe, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor] -- I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?

[Note from SY to SA] -- Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.

[Note from SA to SY (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore')] -- What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.

[Note from SY to SA] -- We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.

[Note from SA to SY] -- What does that mean ... and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?

[Note from SY to SA] -- No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.

[Note from SA to SY] -- What have you been doing?

[Note from SY to SA] -- You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things ... awkward.

[Note from SA to SY] -- 'You don't want to know' ... of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?

[Note from SY to SA] -- I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?

[Note from SA to SY] -- No -- wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?

[Note from SY to SA] -- Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?

[Note from AS to SY] -- Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?

[Note from SY to SA] -- I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.

[Note from AS to SY] -- WHAT!

[Note from SY to AS] -- Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?

[Note from AS to SY] -- No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmmm ... have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?

[Note from SY to SA] -- You don't want me to answer that, Sir.

[Note from SA to SY] -- of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?

[Note from SY to AS] -- Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.

[Note from AS to SY] -- How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?

[Note from SY to SA] -- No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.

[Note from SA to SY] -- Okay. Good to know. Ah ... keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.

[Note from SY to AS] -- Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.

[...]

India -- Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then -- the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.

Japan -- Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?

[...]

The Khanate -- We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time ... to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.

[Note from PM to Self] Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something about this ... right after I delete this message.

{BACK TO THE FICTIONAL WORLD STUFF}

"Is Japan really going to ally with the Khanate?" I looked at Rikki. She was our East Asian expert.

"We are making things contingent on the South Koreans being mollified. They have their own bad history with Japan. A war-like Japan will have them on edge. Do you think your 'Brother' can offer up something the South Koreans would appreciate?" she tossed the grenade back in my lap.

That was my cue to contact Iskender. We agreed to meet someplace innocuous. On the way to the meeting, I received a cryptic call from Katrina. She needed me back at Havenstone ASAP. No details -- well, no surprise there.

I dumped everything we had in Iskender's lap. He was smiling like a monkey who had just discovered a banana plantation.

"What's up?" I cautiously inquired.

"Nothing. Xanzada (Prince ~ he only called me 'Ulı Khaan süyikti ağası' during formal occasions) Cáel, my life has never been more purposeful. Working with you has been one notable deed after the next. The Great Khan knows my name. My family is already profiting from our relationship. By the simple act of you reaching out to me at your father's funeral, my life has been transformed."

"So ... you've basically lost your mind," I commented.

"I agree. I will deliver your communications at once and convey any response if necessary. I haven't heard of the Great Khan rejecting your advice once. I am having the time of my life," he declared.

"One of your brothers is marrying up, isn't he?" I pierced through the murk.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Call it a hunch. How much?"

"My youngest brother, currently in service, is marrying a daughter of the Ögedei-line. This is a huge honor and was clearly made as a rewarding gesture to our personal relationship."

"Congrats. Can I send the happy couple a gift? When is the wedding?"

"Anything from you would be treasured," Iskender kept grinning. "They will be married in January -- no specific date yet. My brother needs to return to his unit before the war resumes."

"I'll check my madcap schedule and see if I can wrangle for me and Hana attending," I offered. My loyal Iskender's eyes glowed. I owed him big. I owed a good number of people and I was happy getting around to paying some of them back. Good news in hand, I raced back to JIKIT. They were readying the information, (plus my positive vibes), for distribution to our supporting agencies and societies.

Javiera was in the room Rikki, Beatrice and Yum-Yum had vacated, already briefing Senator Collins on the latest developments. The US's NSA (Mehmet), Britain's MI-6 (Delilah) and the Stiúrthóireacht na Faisnéise [Irish Directorate of Military Intelligence aka G-2] (because of me and the Illuminati) were getting a more in-depth analysis of current events.

To brighten up what was already turning out to be a stressful day, Lady Yum-Yum reminded me the little-appreciated and highly under-funded G-2 had micro-orgasms every time we sent them these 'For Your Eyes Only' data packets.

Now they could look all those 'high and mighty' NATO intelligence agencies with their half-billion € budgets straight in the eyes and think 'we know something you don't know ... but we can't tell you because ... oh yeah, something you are always bludgeoning us with -- compelling national interests you smug Bastards'.

{THE CONVERSATION FROM THE IRISH POINT OF VIEW}

[Snicker] "Sorry you 'pompous-as-fuck' Head of the DGSE (France's General Directorate for External Security), what was that you wanted?

"Every bit of information we have about the goings-on in Asia?

"You mean all that super-secret, nearly impossible-to-obtain intelligence?

"Of course we have it. We have one of our 'elite' intelligence officers inside JIKIT. Don't you? Pity.

"Sure we trust you ... just as much as you have trusted us over the past fifty years.

"No, we are not holding on to a petty grudge. We are sure when you called us 'a bunch of drunken imbeciles on tricycles with training wheels' you meant it in the best possible way. Besides, you called us that way back when ... oh yeah, last Bastille Day ... months and months ago."

"Absolutely -- if the Khanate is about to drop a Tunguska-size dump on your 'National Interests' we'll let you know ... right after it has been handed to us by the most meticulously accurate sources imaginable ... which we will clarify and verify by accessing our up-to-the-second updates ... and then have finished analyzing it after we tricycle our drunken asses back from the pub where we will be tossing back a few Guinness thanking the Almighty for loving us and hating you." [Snicker]

[THE LAST ELEVEN]

{11:50 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}

"So Katrina, what is so important ..." I bit down on my yawn. Before me stood eight people; four of those frightful chicks from SD plus Elsa and Katrina, who was being guarded by a woman I didn't know. None of that mattered. Who mattered was ...

"Hello, Eruthros," I regarded the red-haired Mycenaean warrior. "I think I recognize those coffle chains."

Yeah, standing between two of 'said' SD Amazons was a relentless foe whose life had intersected mine now four times and we had somehow avoided killing each other. He was nearly-naked, in a chain getup that connected with a neck collar, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and a waist chain. His boxers were clearly not his own. I imagine all of that came with an anal and oral checkups, which ended up covering the same territory.

"Why is he here ... like this?" I looked to Elsa.

"He showed up at the front desk, identified himself, requested a parley and asked to speak to you. We took him down and made absolutely sure he was completely unarmed," she answered.

"He insists he talk to you before we kill him," Elsa spoke with the certainty of the grave. "Only Katrina's curiosity has staid our hand."

Eruthros was about to say something. I held up my hand to forestall him.

"What I meant to convey was 'why has he been treated this way?' Unchain him and give him back his clothes and weapons," I commanded. Why? Because I could, damn it!

"That is not your order to give," Elsa shook her head slightly.

"Au contre," I stared at her. "He is a representative of a faction we are at war with, has clearly come here to parley and since I am the Chief Diplomat of the Host, the only recommendation to the Council that matters concerning his treatment is mine to give, not yours."

"He is a foresworn enemy of our People," Katrina studied me. "His death is guaranteed. This is my judgement in my capacity as 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death." She was playing with me.

"You overstep your authority," I challenged her ... because she wanted me to.

"He is neither an Amazon, a traitor to the Host, nor an enemy we need to ferret out -- he is standing right in front of us. He has come here in good faith, thus dealing with him is my job, not yours. You may question him if you wish, but his fate and comfort is mine to decide."

"No." Katrina.

"Nice to know -- don't care -- Elsa, I am ordering you to release him because otherwise sharing a meal with him will be rather problematic."

"Cáel Nyilas Wakko-Ishara, this will not happen."

"Cool beans." I looked to one of the other SD ladies. I recalled her name being Nairi. "Nairi, unchain him." Her eyes narrowed then she shot a quick look to the side of Elsa's head. Elsa's eyes were locked on me.

"Shall I rephrase -- Nairi, will you obey the lawful order of a member of Council and official of the Amazon Host, or are you going to hand me a lock of your hair before you ... well, you've been forbidden to take yourself to the cliffs so I imagine said action would make you a Runner. Care to try out for Saku's unit? I hear she's only taking the baddest of the bad."

That wasn't going to happen. Neither Elsa nor Katrina would let it go that far.

"Better face such an end than betray my people by unleashing this monster," she ground out. I was so proud of her -- that selfless fanaticism.

"Oh, thank Ishara," I nearly buckled over. "Nairi, I don't want you to suffer that 'end' either, but I'm glad you've acknowledged my authority to place that dilemma before you."

"You tricked me," she seemed confused ... then angry.

"Well, I sure as Hell can't beat you up, so yeah, I tricked you and everyone in this room who isn't Katrina. Sorry Elsa."

"108 hours, Bitch," was Elsa's response.

That was right. Monday at 5:00 pm I 'graduated' -- ending my internship thus allowing me to date freely within Havenstone. I was still going to forgo any such liaisons except with Buffy ... and, if I could sneak it in, with Rhada and Oneida. Tuesday morning I would trundle myself off to wherever Felix was training. The next Friday, the Great Hunt began. Had so much time really passed?

"We seem to be at an impasse," Katrina smirked.

"Hey, is this new chick Epona House Guard?" I was putting things together. How do you depict a nearly-naked, TSA-nightmare victim, shackled Enemy of the People to be even tougher than he already was? Insist that the normal bad-asses at the SD 'might' not be enough for the task -- of killing Eruthros.

"Reanna of Epona," Katrina made the introductions, "meet the most obtuse male you most likely will ever be confronted with."

"So, is no one going to free Eruthros, or am I going to have to summon my legion of hunch-backed henchwomen? Or Pamela? Pamela can probably pick those locks in no time."

"This is not a joking matter," Elsa refocused on the issue at hand.

"Good enough," I nodded. I stepped up, grabbed Eruthros's waist chain and twisted him around. "Don't move." Then I pulled out my gun and aimed it at the closest wrist cuff. I had to move him to make sure no one else was in line with my bullet's projected path. That they could have protested.

"I will kill him before you pull the trigger," Elsa reminded me.

"Good point -- all of you who aren't with House Epona, or my guest, leave. You are no longer welcome, or all that helpful."

"Cáel, before this goes any further," Katrina intervened. "Why don't you tell us why you want to free him."

"The Host are not barbarians. We are neither noble, by any other standard than our own, nor do we forego inflicting cruelty on our enemies, we welcome it. What we are NOT is 'false-faced rapist who invite others to share our cups -- or a request to parley -- so we can enslave, or slaughter them'. We are not those people and I would rather die honoring my ancestor (the first Ishara) than let us behave so. We should know better."

"He is ONE of those men who did that to us," Nairi seethed.

"Precisely," I agreed. "Knowing that, he placed his life into our hands. For us, it is ancient history seared into our souls. For Eruthros it played out a few months ago. The fact we became WORSE than him stands before you now -- in me."

"No," Elsa denied me.

"There are too many playmates of three young boys to count whose descendants are no longer around to argue with you. You slaughtered them -- your own sons -- in one night," I hardened. "Now tell me the butchery of your own bloodlines -- your own flesh and blood -- wasn't an even greater atrocity."

I could see the defense of their actions written all over their faces -- the SD and Reanna. The 'sons' were males and still, in too many of their eyes, unworthy.

"You didn't butcher young boys that night. You murdered every daughter those men would ever have. How lonely we have become because those daughters never had daughters of their own ... because we lost our souls?"

Oh, that hadn't occurred to them, though it was painfully obvious to me.

"That's right. That night we killed half the Amazons who would have lived in the past 2,500 years. Today -- that stops. It stops here, with you and me with this ancient foe. Now, free him because I say so, because I am right and all of you know it. Stop pretending you even have a choice."

"Ishara," Elsa murmured at me. She wasn't talking to me. She was honoring my ancestor and my goddess -- the Peacemakers. Elsa stepped to up to Eruthros, brandished a key and began undoing his manacles. "Get his belongings," she directed to a random Security Detail member. Off she went.

"That was a bit tight," Eruthros finally spoke as he rubbed his wrists. I didn't think he was talking about the chains.

"Give me a sec," I grinned at him. "Katrina, could you please arrange for me and our guest to have something to eat and drink delivered to this office while we discuss the reason for his visit?" Now I was being very polite. Katrina deserved that and more.

Katrina picked up her phone and forwarded the request. Tea and crab cakes was the meal of convenience.

"Eruthros, before we get down to the nitty-gritty of our family relations, reminiscing over friends we miss and honoring fallen foes, why don't you tell me why you are here?"

"We would like to bury Ajax," he bowed his head -- a warrior beseeching an enemy-prince.

"Okay," I told 'Red'. He appeared to be retaining some doubts. "I've been doing various people a shitload of favors. They owe me. Getting one dead guy out of a morgue won't be a problem."

"Really?" he seemed shocked.

This was a desperation mission spurned on by oaths of loyalty from a liegeman to his king, not something most modern people would understand. If nothing else, they would ask something for the service. 3,000 years ago, that wasn't how it worked. Even in death, Ajax belonged to his people. To deny that was a malignant insult.

Leave no man behind ...? Was that the Rangers, or the Marines? I'd have to ask Chaz. Would those modern elites understand Eruthros' plea? Or had the Massacre of the Amazons at the Seven Skulls removed them from such dignified company? They weren't here -- I was.

"Cáel, this is not an activity I can expend Havenstone assets on. Unlike that other matter, retrieving Ajax's body for burial is not Amazon business," Katrina announced. She had to keep up the pretense of her disapproval. That other matter ... I needed to deal with that too.

"That's fine. I don't need Executive Services for this mission. I've got it covered."

"Exactly what resources do you imagine you have?" Elsa cocked an eyebrow. Normally she was smarter than this. Or maybe she was teasing me too.

"I figure four ninja to do the task and three Black Hand to provide support. We might not even need to smuggle the body out of Europe," I enlightened the room. "I've been standing up for the 9 Clans side since Day One. As I said, they owe me."

Elsa bowed to my creative criminality.

"And his armor and weapons," Eruthros added.

"And his armor and weapons," I repeated.

"Retrieving the body is one thing," Katrina schooled me. "Virtually no one breaks into a morgue, even a Federal Police one. They would store his personal belongings in a far more secure location. Finding his personal weaponry will be even more difficult."

"If we cannot find them, I will give you my two axes which I bore when I witnessed his passing," I offered Eruthros.

"Thank you," he clasped my hand. Tears began edging down his cheeks. Those old Greeks, and just about everyone else in those days, openly cried, exchanged crude jokes and laughed no matter how bizarre the situation. Showing emotion was what men did. They relished life because theirs could be so brutish and short.

"Where are you going to bury him?" I inquired. I was feeling a bit sniffley myself. Charlotte had paid the price so I could be here, talking to him, today.

"Salamis, among his kinsfolk," Eruthros responded.

"I would like to attend if I may."

"You would be welcome," he brightened up.

In a way, I could be seen as honoring a man I came to personally fear and despise. Ajax was a pig -- a beast. Not of all his men had been and I was doing this for them. Honoring the dead meant so much more to those who survived. Having buried my Father, I knew that to be true.

"What's next for you and yours?" I changed the subject.

"We aren't sure. The Condottieri have abandoned the few of us who remain. I imagine one day Teucer will come to you to settle accounts. For the rest of us ..."

"Want a job?"

"We would never work for the Amazons," he shook his head.

"Not the person I am thinking about at all. How would you like to go work for the Great Khan? He is going to need the hardest stone-cold killers with testicles in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Why would he accept us?"

"He is my spiritual-brother," I informed him. "If I tell him you and the others can shift the outcome of any fight, he will take you in."

"We are neither mercenaries nor willing to work for you," Eruthros looked down.

"I will pay in the currency that matters," I put my hand on his shoulder. "I will relate to you and yours the last moments in the life of Ajax the Unconquered."

"When?"

"At the funeral, but I will have an extra request for you."

"What is it?"

"I will not live forever. I wish you to forgive the family of his assassin. When you bury Ajax, you will bury that anger. Let one more death settle the matter."

"That ... that I think I can convince the others to do. You would not ask for your own life?"

"I deserve much of the hate showered down on my life. I wish my children -- all our children -- to grow up in a better world."

"Who is Ishara?"

"She is the Goddess of many things. Most importantly to me, Dot-Ishara is the Goddess of Oaths. She binds our promises in blood and punishes the false-hearted and the oath-breakers. Serving her is always painful, but far too often worthwhile."

"Children," Eruthros mused. "I had not considered such a thing. Vengeance has consumed our thoughts."

"The truly great warriors go home," I adlibbed, "raise children and lie to them about their experiences while passing on those heart-rending lessons that carried them so far."

"Endless war makes no sense to me. Conflict always has a way of finding us, be we unready, prepared, fresh, or tired. Best we prepare the next generation who will have to face those challenges -- make something good out of all the death and pain."

"Give you a few more years and you will be an Epic warrior, Cáel Nyilas Wakko Ishara," he put his hand on my shoulder to mirror mine.

"Hey now," I faux-protested. "What did I ever do to deserve that?"

"When the Great Achilles died, there was no one worthy of picking up his sword. We Greeks -- we Mycenaeans -- were swept away. What became of our sons and daughters? Where are the songs sung in their honor? Did we expend our very best for an insignificant town on a hill? Did we?"

"Not all the Mycenaeans are dead, Eruthros," I pointed out.

"The Amazons ... when I knew them, they were like you; fearlessly happy and brave. They would be proud ... I guess you being a man, I can't say they would be proud of you, but I would like to think they would sing paeans around your funeral pyre."

Not a single Amazon in the room commented on his memories. He knew their ancestors and they didn't. He also had had a hand in stilling that joy and freely-embraced fierceness. Whatever they had once been so long ago, the Greeks had stolen all the good away and left the hate, pain and sense of betrayal that had carried my Amazons through the millennia.

"I have a daughter. Her name is Aya and her playful laughter can still steal the crushing weight of storm-waves as tall as a city wall, her tiny strength overcomes the winds of a hurricane through her relentless determination, and her compassionate smile picks you up when pain and exhaustion would otherwise unman you. She is absolutely wonderful and I would like you to meet her someday -- when all of this (the bloodletting) is behind us."

"I would like that," he grinned.

"Did he just promise to show your niece to this monster?" Reanna didn't whisper softly enough for me not to here -- most likely on purpose.

"He is her 'Atta', so he is well within his rights to make that request of Caitlyn."

"But you are the House Head," Reanna protested.

"I trust Cáel with Aya's life. Absolutely. I have before and I would do so again," Katrina's eyes played over my countenance. Yeah, she had let Aya be kidnapped along with me, thus putting her in the hands of the Seven Pillars. Her trust had cost Aya two digits from her ring finger -- a mark she would bear her entire life. "Making the request to Caitlyn is a mere formality. She shares my faith in him."

I had to think about that ... and other things.

"No," Katrina shook her head in the negative. "You may not sleep with Reanna. Buffy would find out and beat the crap out of her. I need them both."

"Did you just pull a 'Pamela' on me?" I scowled. Reanna was still getting over the 'I would never sleep with him' and the 'why won't you let me sleep with him?'

"You are aroused and Reanna has been sucking up your man-candy anima since you walked into the room -- no psychic powers required," she corrected me.

"Does this happen to you often?" Eruthros regarded me with renewed respect.

"Yes," Elsa answered for me.

"What she said," I smirked.

The rest was simple and more than a bit archaic and manly. Eruthros' panoply was returned, he dressed and then we ate, sitting on the floor of Katrina's office while the normal ES business was carried on around us. We both set our weapons aside as we shared our meal. He told me a dozen things a hundred historians devoted to the Bronze-Age Greeks would have personally torn the right testicles off their closest colleague for.

He was literate, knew some Old Kingdom Hittite, Minoan and Scythian and enough Egyptian to recognize it when I spoke a few words. Having lived inside a citadel (and not out in the fields with the peons), he knew how those old alliances, bonds, ties of kinship and other loyalties really worked.

I repaid those insights by educating him on modern dating practices and why you wanted women who were lethally competent as well as hot-looking and hellcats beneath sheets. After all, he and his tiny band of friends had their own martial societal traditions to pass down. By the time he departed, I had planted the seeds of a future beyond Ajax in his mind.

I hoped he would share my thoughts, hopes and dreams for the Mycenaeans with his ten surviving brethren. Five were in prison and not likely to ever get out ... without outside help? The Khanate perhaps? The others: Red and one other had made their escape from Romania. Teucer and three others had been wounded before the final encounter at the Seven Skulls.

An hour later, I walked him out of the building. He took a taxi to somewhere that wasn't here. As his car faded into the noontime mass of New York traffic, Wiesława finally spoke.

"What is Buffy going to do when she finds out what foolish risks you took today and plan to do in the near future?"

"Pat me on the back and tell me to keep up the good work?" I tried to sound up beat. Lucky for me, I had a few fortune cookies in my pocket because that pigeon must have been a half-kilometer up when he decided to do his best imitation of a Peregrine Falcon. It probably didn't penetrate his little bird-brain that he had nothing approaching the aerodynamic qualities that would allow him to pull up in time.

[ISHARA]

"Man, that is going to leave a mark," I mumbled. A nice comfy lap-pillow eased the pain in my noggin. "Did you have to sacrifice that winged-rat?"

"Don't give me that," my Goddess scolded me. "I wasn't the one who sat calmly in a room with one of the perpetrators of the most grievous crimes ever committed against my people, comforting him in his time of suffering."

"Unleash a damn Alû on him," I suggested. Those were vengeance demons of the Near East during Ishara's time.

"Those are Sumerian."

"I seem to recall you working with a Sumerian goddess recently," I countered.

"Are you angry about Tadêfi?"

"Why do you even ask?" I groaned. My head was really going to hurt when I woke up. "I am (angry), you are cruel and it is your nature to use us mortals for your own purposes. I imagine whatever good you do for mankind is accidental."

"No," she brushed her fingernails along my forehead. "If we could leave you to your devices, we divinities would. Life is not that simple. There are forces at work that would destroy the Weave and collapse all reality. By nurturing the good, we secure your future and our own."

"Illuyankamunus ... demons ... black necromancers?"

"Yes. As I have told you before ..."

"There is no 'one' destiny. I imagine, ignorant of the outcome, you worry that humanity might not work it out quite right," I sighed.

"Please, do not despair," she took a handful of hair and dragged it over my upturned hand, caressing my fingertips -- which felt really, really good. "I appreciate all you have done for me on your own initiative. I am not so jaded that I am inured to human suffering, yours especially."

"My sweet Cáel, I share your tears. I do not wish things to have turned out as they have. As the current of the future changes, I must change or succumb to it. If this helps, had you run away from Havenstone that first Tuesday, I would have protected you," she swore.

"Because I was the last scion of Vranus likely to perpetuate the next generation," I pierced her self-deception. "Don't bother telling me otherwise. I think I know the real reason I asked you to remove the ability for you and the other divinities to read my mind."

"You think it is a female power-fantasy," she reminded me. After all, that had been the last thought she had stolen from my privacy. I had been thinking that, yet now I began to see it in another light. It was my finely-honed, dearly paid for, instincts about the female psyche.

It was probably a combination of Ishara's first words to me today and Anais that opened my eyes to a greater truth. Women neither forgive nor forget. Not really.

"Like Eruthros, that night of rape for you was yesterday, not three thousand years ago," I unveiled my reasoning. "Vranus aside, you have never forgiven male-kind. As much as I feel you have true affection for me, I'm still a guy."

"No," she tried to smooth my troubled mind.

"You can't let Eruthros go in peace, even when it is the well-reasoned choice of your lone descendent -- breathing one, anyway. What Eruthros and his friend did was heinously wrong. 'Me' -- any of us -- turning on him when he showed up in good faith would have been the final surrender to the Mycenaeans of our own sense of right and wrong."

"Three thousand years ago, before the First Betrayal, we would have never considered butchering him outright though we could refuse him. Likewise, his offer was genuine and his request just. What need does the Host have of Ajax's corpse? What does it profit us to humiliate his followers? Do we really need to kill those final eleven? Teucer will come seeking vengeance in time, but now he won't do so as a sniper."

"I have taken away their outrage as an excuse for his actions. If he kills me from afar, he has surrendered his honor to me and we both know he will not do that. I am an honorable foe. As a Prince of my People, that honor permeates the Host. When Teucer comes for me it will be face to face. He will have to stare me straight in the eyes and I will kill him."

"I ... I apologize," Ishara wept. "Poor Vranus. He wasn't very clever, but he was unswervingly loyal. I was wrong to think so poorly of him and discount his honest courage and love for his family. I confess ... I never treated his worship, or the worship of his father and grandfather as being truly equal to that of his mothers and sisters."

"You will stand by me and my decision about Eruthros?" I shuddered. I'd been unconscious for a bit of time.

"Yes. Yes I will, my lovely Cáel," a tear escaped her cheek and landed on mine. It felt weird -- a combination of coolness and a tickling level of electricity.

"Why am I here? I assume you have something to impart and weren't simply out to kill that poor pigeon with me as a witness," I chuckled.

"Ah ... It would be so much easier if I could touch your mind," she hinted -- poorly.

"Not happening ... please let SzélAnya know I need to talk to her soon ... I'm starting to feel stiff."

"I ... perhaps ... had that pigeon hit you ... a bit too hard. You were concussed for quite some time. Added to that, we have chatted about other matters for over a minute," she chastised me because all this talking was TOTALLY my fault.

"Why do you ... you remain very clever, MY Cáel." Her possessiveness didn't bother me. She was my guardian Goddess after all and would one day protect my children with equal devotion. If my fucked up life was any indicator, they'd need the help. She would let me talk to SzélAnya because I undoubtedly had a reason to do so, even if she didn't approve -- of either my idea, or me being with a rival goddess.

"Think of Aya," she urgently imparted. "Think of Aya and know she deserves to grow up to be an Amazon just like you. Give her the freedom to do so. Where there is Valor, there is Hope. Greatness should be measured by the lives you save, not those you take. When the time ..."

I felt her kiss upon my nose, then the pain kicked back in fulltime. I also realized my fortune cookies were gone (she'd stolen all three of them, Goddess-damn it!) I had to get some more before my next 'philosophic' session threatened my skull's integrity, tempting it to surrender to months of continuing abuse.

[LASSIES AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY]

'Ow -- ow -- ow -- ow' kept bouncing around my head.

"He's waking up," Wiesława softly informed someone. I opened my eyes. They had dragged me back into Havenstone's lobby, cradled me as they brought me up to Medical, then hung around ... in case I died and the SD wanted to talk to them. I was admittedly curious if the 'a pigeon did it' would mollify Elsa.

"Did I kill it?" I muttered as they put me down, feet first. I wobbled. Concussions do that to a guy.

"Who? I didn't see anyone attack you?" Wiesława looked concerned.

"The pigeon? The one who hit me. Is it dead?" I groaned.

"Oh ... yes, Cáel Ishara. It will no longer menace any of our sisters. Your thick skull did it in," she joked. That eased the feelings of the security chicks around me. Unlike the medicos, they weren't privileged to know my Matron Goddess's preferred means of communication -- bludgeoning me into unconsciousness.

"How long have I been out?" I mumbled. My cranium was throbbing in pain as I sat up. 'Hey! I was in Medical and still had my clothes on. Was I losing my touch?'

"It is 1:15, Wakko," Wiesława informed me. I groaned as my feet swung off the gurney.

"I have to play Barabbas in the mouth of a whale converted into a lion's den in 45 minutes and I need a few things from home," I mumbled. I would have assumed a commanding demeanor, except my inner ear was debating calling in sick for the rest of the day.

"So, what did she have to say?" Pamela stepped into view. It was hard to describe my pride and my joy when I saw Chaz right behind her -- fully armed -- inside Havenstone with his scrotum still doing what natured designed it for.

"The Bitch stole two extra cookies," I gripped. "As for the rest -- chastisement for thinking my opinion mattered -- me telling her to back the fuck up, we are not married yet -- then the normal bit of useless information that I'm sure will make sense ... somewhere around the third 5th of Whiskey."

"Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to rain on my parade until 2?"

"Not sure -- Chaz?" Pamela.

"Nothing special, Mr. Nyilas," Chaz glowered. Uh oh. Mr. Nyilas. Not good.

"We figured we'd join your regular lunch crowd," Pamela nudged Chaz giving him a physical 'atta boy.

"Buffy gave us a message," Chaz retained his 'I'm your older brother and since Dad isn't around to kick your ass over doing something stupid, I'm doing it for him' look. I had to admit, that look was pretty new to me. Most men didn't want to be remotely associated with me genetically after getting to know me and my fidelity, or lack thereof.

"Hey now," I protested as I wove my way out the door to the elevator. My equilibrium decided to cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is only me, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy ... hi Juanita ..." I hadn't spotted my designated bodyguard standing behind Chaz.

"Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious with you." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy.

"Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added to the regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not a fucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company," Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff.

"Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have a child," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with two Amazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past ten minutes.

"You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz dryly remarked.

"I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom, Deidre and Imogen ... plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out the Titanic.

"Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamela smiled at her two grandsons.

"Cáel, are you going to tell your fiancée you've impregnated your aunt?" Chaz was back to being mildly sympathetic to my 'totally fucked-up' life.

"Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garner me enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing her drink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned.

I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armed FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox [did you know when a Federal Agent adds 'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?] stood next to my chariot. She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of driving today.

I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Her training involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course from the FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well as whatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced.

Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind those scholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon') legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successful social instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectful manner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on the original horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform.

Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (aka need to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortune cookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store. As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel of folks come down toward us from the fourth level.

I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamela each went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in their jackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could fire through the stairs from beneath.

Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the SUV because sending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefight did break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up while Virginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself.

Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women -- early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. A few looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, with no obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance. Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing.

"Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fiery red-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles. Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelic during orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other love interests?

She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with a belly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans and soft leather calf-boots.

"Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering an all-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering.

"How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still be alive?" was Chaz's spin on things.

"We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where you suffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemming stampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled to Pluto because the Sun was too good for you."

9 -- 10 -- 11 --12 of them looking ... 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded me of my fiancée, another red-head, two russet and five with deep, dark brown, or black hair. They were all fit -- fit -- fit! With an air of 'I graduated college only to discover: 1) no one was hiring Saline Soil Scientists, or 2) I no longer want to do any of the things I wanted to do when I picked this major. I was familiar with both types.

Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in to regale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of my bedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so ... now I recalled; that particular excuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspicious come calling.

I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered ... a bit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment, so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangement had been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment at Havenstone.

I'd neglected ... telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd find a way to make it up to him later.

"Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off by the Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000 applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident.

"These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Sea resorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in the Northern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since -- that would be the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years."

"Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidae catastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using a Bortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending my ashes to Pluto," I explained.

Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway -- the owner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so ... The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and made in Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km ... which would leave me crash landing into the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, rendering me and my voles so much frozen food.

"You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped. Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights.

"Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don't want my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth's endangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because we suddenly feel bad about neglecting it."

"E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her why she knew Maori later ... right after I figured why Grandpa knew it.

"Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused.

"I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones. It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them.

"You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leader sighed.

"Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides, Ba chóir fear a bheith ar eolas ag a gníomhais, ní a oidhreacht." [A man should be known by his deeds, not his heritage].

"Sa chás go bhfuil misneach, tá súil agam," she replied using my 'family' motto.

"Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van bátorsága, van remény," and "cesaret olduğu yerde umut vardır," all followed. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope' in Finnish, Hungarian and Turkish. I got the sneaking feeling this wasn't a college field trip gone awry. These chicks were coming at me with a purpose that included more than sexual gratification and a kiss good-bye. Ugh.

"Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of my personal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid I don't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date with my fiancée in a half-hour and will be taking notes at a feminist convention at 8, what can I do for you?" I was establishing my escape plan.

"We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned one smiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve of these girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight and the last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the Lacrosse Finals.

"What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted.

"We are the [Irish] 'Na conairte soith an Ó Séaghdha ar', [Hungarian] 'A szuka kutyákat Herceg Nyilas', [Turkish] 'Prens okçu Kaltak Köpekleri' and [Finnish] 'Narttu koirista prinssi jousimies'," they chorused.

Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'the Bitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea).

"You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irish choice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technically made them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was going to figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her.

"You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" I nearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back.

"Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'First Person Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants who joined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession!

"Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience at all? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?"

"Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let you down."

"You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?" Chaz sent me a chilling look.

"Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?" floated around.

"Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker' human suit to trick the masses."

"Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up.

By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their native countries, then left after their first term because they found military life to be boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and six of the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy was going to kill them -- all twelve at once by herself.

"I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm a stone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will show up at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms and then warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, we are going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you will write this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet are foolish in practice. Do you accept?"

"How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and your Crusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked.

"All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quite extensive."

"You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of the Turks blinked in disbelief.

"Yes. I am not disrespecting you -- any of you. You've shown initiative, courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable and worthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also telling you is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat in single combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm only saying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."

Their eyes flickered to Pamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, or appear harmless, as she wished.

"Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriors and in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostile individuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations."

"The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three people who could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree, Chaz?"

"Absolutely," he concurred.

"We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smile and cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood.

"You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting her in the ass, not me. Yay?

"You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz. That was Welsh ... and meant Colour Sergeant Charles Tomorrow ... I imagined his superiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us ... him being a 'secret military operator' -- emphasis on the 'secret'.

"And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girl pointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret Spy Pamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone back to the origin of the name of Pamela -- a fictitious 17th English novelist creation using mangled Hellenic -- which translated as 'all-honey'.

'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah ... those twelve had combed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was and who Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when we were all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSH agent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me -- the unspoken 'sidekick' thing.

[For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', it really existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foil for James Bond.]

"Chaz, since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, we must insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments -- in person. I want to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who had thrown himself between me and an explosive vest ... probably out of some psychic impulse that I would suffer far, far worse later -- like in today, within less than 24 hours of said act.

"Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned.

"Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out.

"We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me.

"Oh yeah -- fortune cookies," I mumbled.

"Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many of them are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of the Hungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter account. Odette ... she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, but I had a feeling that was fading fast.

"Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on the third floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back.

"What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" to Chaz ... then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught.

"I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting with some really shady characters and my fiancée," I informed them.

"Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to love that ..."

"And then ..." Pamela continued.

"She is going to want a gun," I groaned.

OH GODDESS! NO! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'.

"No, I have not," Chaz corrected me ... about my mental ruminations.

"I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my new prospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards ...

"Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and "Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?"

"Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have six models," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten times a day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks for food, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is so damn fun."

While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed (as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring off the sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incredibly happy smile.

"Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?"

I wanted to cry.

[A FAMILY FUN-CTION ... minus the 'fun' part]

My fiancée giving me a congenial and contented look. Good.

My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hook up soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combo with a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, if you can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me.

Brooke had joined the lunch group ... sharing a smile and wink with Libra with the secret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this ... hmmm ... lunch break Friday ... yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks -- minus the shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure.

Hana was a saint for putting up with those two ... and me.

Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for the rest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. As for the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel ménage à trois -- Buffy was reading the undercurrents and setting up a breakwater. At least her attire suggested well-paid, successful international assassin. I wondered if I had paid for her clothing as well. I'd given Chaz's wardrobe a serious upgrade courtesy of Pamela faking my signature.

The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they all had different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable' attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in the same style as Hana.

I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for what she assumed would be my support network -- Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesława and Juanita -- plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. That made me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, if not comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurant this exclusive.

Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcano on the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged.

"Chaz -- Pamela -- explain," Buffy seethed.

"I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back, "Sweet-Cheeks."

"They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation and assistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sincere manner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his 'inner- Cáel'.

"I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from four European nations," he nodded.

Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns -- I thought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to not have seen it coming.

"What?" Oili gasped.

"Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me.

"Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throw a ... shrimp at Oili?"

"It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "Had Oili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect the item with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do all the time. It is pretty neat to watch."

"Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in case another decapod was coming her way.

"You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison on it," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you. She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odette an 'atta girl' high five.

"Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "What have you been up to?"

"Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit, Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These fine women have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be my bodyguards," I made the introductions.

"They have volunteered to be ... basically the 'Hounds of Prince O'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fiancée, Brooke, my close friend, Libra, a sweet & sincere childhood acquaintance, my Mother, Sibeal, my O'Shea aunts, Deidre & Imogen and Kalmarasērmi Buffy."

Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy let a smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazon language = my Mountaintop.

"I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offered me drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces.

"Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured.

"Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my life and I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distracting bullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think you are yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted and soft-headed."

"I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie -- her only 'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel's safety. You should invoke whatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well ... because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I will exercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay."

"Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette.

"That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way.

"Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down.

"Until ten seconds ago -- Yes. Now I want to hand you over to these two," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork.

"Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requested understanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. All we are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you."

"To Us," Buffy snapped. "Cáel's vote doesn't count."

"Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and your lack of trust is pissing me off."

"Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out of sight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failed to take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to be honest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Colour Sergeant wouldn't have let them come here, or near Odette."

If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'd miss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch and gentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous dicking) I could have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was a goodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?

"Marrying you is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooke teased me. Normally only dead people were made saints.

"A Servant of ... probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table can agree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her joking well.

"Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered over the women of note (the women at the main table).

"Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had been Catholic?

"Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, I was given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social level between myself and my fiancé. Food would be nice too."

Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. A waiter slipped in, took my order -- I decided to forgo an appetizer because I was late -- then the conversation began.

"Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my family from Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. I was buying time to get a better read on the women around me.

"I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion.

"Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed.

"Wow ... I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely could meet Hana's eyes.

"I am pregnant with your fiancé's child," Imogen cut to the chase. What she said was delivered on purpose. Imogen wasn't as socially maladjusted as Rachel. The fewer women in my life, the easier the O'Shea would have roping me in. Imogen's words were meant to hurt Hana and drive a wedge between us.

"You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid her anger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate her feeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute at concealing their surprise.

"She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of a blatant Imogen, or a pained Hana.

"No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile. It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. Whatever Imogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does have a child inside her -- Havenstone verified it and will have the precise genetic make-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying).

"If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who played upon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he was seven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as he witnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy because the people who were hunting me down -- the two O'Shea before you and the nine who aren't here -- would have used numerous means of torture to verify my death."

(Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun)

"My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. It was too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. He learned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this table knows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well."

"Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick to my son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How could this not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman who has already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of his own maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?"

"Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you ... or I. By all means, make a mockery of my son -- your nephew -- who has pledged to fight for your life when he should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of you yet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness."

"There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of here intact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty," she threatened.

"Ten?" Brooke whispered.

"The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with, Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing his child take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her.

"No."

"The Six?" Libra scanned the room.

"My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. They won't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jump straight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz, Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal."

"We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with that proclamation.

"No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me.

"Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staff will only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and the rest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck so your best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal with things," Mom clarified.

"Brooke -- Libra, this is a wacko chicks with guns moment," I put things in perspective.

"Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder.

"Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for cover and not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. Sorry Sibeal, but I don't know you that well yet."

"I understand," Mom agreed.

To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model) and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When the maître de tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entire extended family with a look alone. Been there -- done that, and the maître de was nowhere close to being in my league.

I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been here before I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her over Constanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would still show up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain.

It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in an exposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level of response. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do' non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha.

Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her team could keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons were paying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing her how to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances.

"Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known was Granddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand.

"Oh ... I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If there was a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it.

"Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll."

"That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he has always been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations of dead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans to destroy my Cáel."

"I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have. He's a handful and reminds you of your Father -- the mass-murdering rapist. And Imogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part of your circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I count a person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there is Valor, there is Hope and my fiancé has both in spades. Do we understand one another?"

"Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equates to being a threat," Deidre countered.

"Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me.

"Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hana has to win, or lose, on her own."

"Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people, Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some petty bullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenance made a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous.

"That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are as dysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat one another as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?"

"You?" Deidre soothed me.

"No. Ferko Nyilas' -- my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taught me to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control over our lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-ass bitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I care for you."

"I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all of you know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, I will always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold you responsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and it isn't over yet."

[THE FIRST ISHARA OPEN HOUSE CHALLENGE]

If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on the mats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warrior culture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on the line. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without, weapons.

"We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting over the physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten.

"My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training. Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat techniques."

"Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements -- and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough' -- you begin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such as close-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefield medicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and 'training' expertise."

"In my current team -- the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania -- all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five, each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. The leader had eleven years in."

"Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specific mindset. What you need to do is think why you shouldn't kill someone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate, someone close to you might be killed -- not just me."

"Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions, you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxis take you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicating yourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet."

"You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group -- to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at my side. Go -- take a rest -- talk it over -- search your souls. Call me if any of you want to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?"

"Do the other women around you do this -- make those choices?" one of the Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw.

"No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never to return. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to, before they are even considered for the task."

"Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. You would never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every way except spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offers resonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path you are taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are of accomplishing your goals."

"I ... I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses.

"At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel, Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500 elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead, or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded.

"One of the three was killed -- a head shot -- and the remainder left her body where she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had to protect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me is exceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.

No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes I was picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified.

"Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeve and Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel's guests to the lobby." A new pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods she interacted with.

{I have taken a few mystic liberties:

Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.

Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress.

As for the other new hires:

Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter)

Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)

Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.

Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother -- Guardian of the Lion Throne)}

They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answer to their current predicament -- learning your romantic adventure was actually a gory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had been gathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps even understanding, of my actions.

Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helena cajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left. Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-public setting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.

For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were not close enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them to be in New York on this night.

"Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance from our Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly, calling the meeting to order.

I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, when the struggle began.

"Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointed out the three 'new hires' who were sticking around.

"Memasant (Amazon for to speak true)," I answered her. Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before the meeting began ... I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects these three for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach it to others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in our native tongue."

"I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, we are not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. We aren't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have to be kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Host needs."

"We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige of our sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it ... who cares? None of them have made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not all gathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?"

"Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out in a ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down.

"Put forth your complaint," I responded.

"You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take the time to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sisters to advance your own prestige."

"Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies."

"Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operations of our House."

"Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side of me. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew I would have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host."

"Buffy, are you challenging me?"

"No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me. She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thus her.

"Helena, are you challenging me?"

"No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangers you constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equally hostile tone.

"Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept any challenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to put your own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over one another for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.

It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored. Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1 Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter.

"Cool beans," I nodded.

I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I had pre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandished two weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of my opponents muttered in confusion and resentment.

"Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilities never had then," Madori protested.

"Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls to pick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, Daphne Cotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise.

"Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madori glowered. "Cheating -- utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equality and justice?"

"No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyes narrowed. "How about this -- call the Amazon's contact with the Earth & Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue a House obligation?"

"You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head and actually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen a short spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?

"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled.

"Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not the Goddess of ...," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust. I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spear enough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my left axe on her shoulder, blade against her throat.

"Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a 22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance' bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such people weren't crybabies. "Next."

Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situation was she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. I readied myself.

"I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" she put out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes.

"I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me' written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She put the point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close to my kidney.

"Yield."

"Never."

"Yield, or I will kill you."

I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist and slammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with both of us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shield trapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.

I stood up, blood oozing down my side.

"Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three more Amazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashed water down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness.

"Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and all of our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refused to yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when you clearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest of arms."

Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous, outsider woman.

"I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne -- don't you dare stand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for your disrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would show both of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People -- learn. Learn and keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn, don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success until you take yourself to the cliffs."

One of the two newest challengers was prepping her rush. I drew my other two axes.

"Wait your turn," I pointed an axe her way. "The rest of you -- you planned this meeting so you could overcome your disgust and condemnation over having a male be in charge of House Ishara. Don't bother lying to me, or each other."

"Your crappy performance is utterly irrelevant?" the challenger showered me with hate. As I have previously noted, telling a woman that she is clearly delusional by pointing out her delusions is rarely accepted in a positive manner.

"Have it your way. The sheer stupidity of your actions speaks for itself."

She moved forward. Much like Arianne, her tactic was to close in enough to turn this into an unarmed martial contest. I didn't know her name, yet could tell she hadn't joined House Ishara via her spectacular battlefield performance. She was undoubtedly bright, diligent and absolutely top notch at whatever post Havenstone had placed her in. Lecture time.

"Here begins the lesson," I danced away from her initial rush. "If you believe that I am nothing more than a prophetic hiccup in Amazon mysticism and not the true heir of Yakko Ishara, please raise your hand" I said to the room at large. Few did.

"Liars," I mocked them. I batted a few more of her attacks aside.

"Having refused to accept the window-dressing of my heritage, you have decided I am nothing more than a fortuitous aberration you are using for your own personal advantage. That is the only logical assertion that takes into account all the events of tonight," I kept lecturing them. "And you couldn't be more wrong."

"Stand still, damn you," my latest opponent hissed. I slipped right when I should have twisted left. I dropped the back of my axe-head on the top of her skull, dropping her like a puppet with its strings cut. The next one hopped up. Buffy's animalistic rumblings of pure rage were clearly audible. This one was going with the long spear and it looked like she had some talent. She was no Elsa and for this, she needed to be.

"Put your spear down and accept my judgement," I made eye contact with the newcomer.

"Why?'

"I'm not going to tell you. Go with your gut," I advised. I could see her weigh her options. She surprised me by placing her spear down and retreating from the mat.

"Why did you do that?" the woman next to her snapped quietly.

"I don't know," the latest challenger furrowed her brow.

"You did it because we have all been here before," I filled in the answer. "You were never Runners. Had you been alien to the Amazons, you would have faced the same fate as Alicia at my Father's gravesite."

"She was rejected by Ishara, not me. Ask any of the other twenty-one who were present. I burned my damn finger trying to get Ishara to take her in. It didn't happen. I've been thinking about that for the past few months. I think I now know why it happened." Miraculously, I had their attention.

"You never joined House Ishara," I scanned the whole assembly. "House Ishara found you. Generations ago you should have joined House Ishara except the gates had been closed. Your ancestors couldn't reach out to you because their mortal kin had perished without heirs. For fifteen hundred years, Isharans have been born, lived and passed on because no one was around to open your eyes to your place in the world."

"I am absolutely positive every one of you has fought, struggled and bled to be in this room, listening to my diatribe. So did Alicia. For those who know her, do you think she was lesser than you by any metric?" I let that sink in. Those who knew Alicia were mulling my words over. Those who didn't were studying the ones who did.

"Please examine your hearts and give me a reason why she and hundreds of equally qualified Runners are not here, and you are? Have you won a game of Texas hold 'em? The Pick-5? Do you think your other sisters drew your name out of hat, threw darts at a dart board, or did a random inner-house personnel search?"

"I'm waiting for someone to tell me I'm a nut, insane, or just plain wrong."

Nothing.

"You are here because you were born Isharans, grew up under Dot-Ishara's cruel tutelage and fortuitously lived in a time when the doors to our Ancestors were finally reopened."

"Former Runners? There -- is -- no -- such -- thing! You have always been Isharans. And only now is the rest of creation becoming aware of it," I stated in a clear, decisive voice. Kimberly insisted I take that course in Public Speaking so I could recite the words of long-dead kings in an authoritative voice. It was paying an unpredicted dividend now.

Except for the 3 non-Isharans, everyone in this room grew up in a scientific, predictable world. If any of them participated in a religion, they didn't expect any reaction to their worship. Faith was a word to whitewash the unknown. Havenstone had made no effort to dispel that way of thinking.

Yes, they knew they were living on the periphery of a 3,000 year old feud against male-kind. When given the decision to either believe 1.) there were thousands and thousands of ancestors and fifty-plus goddesses watching over them, or 2.) they belonged to a cult with a seriously weird backstory, they chose the 'reasonable' explanation.

It wasn't like the membership in that worship system were reaching out to embrace new members. The faith the full-Blooded Amazons had was part of their mistress's uniqueness they shared with one another while excluding their new 'sisters'. Such an infinitesimal number of Runners had been embraced by the faith ... so what else were they supposed to believe in?

Only now, they were being asked to embrace without question what all Full-Blooded took for granted. Mysticism was integral to Amazon life. They KNEW their Ancestors were watching over them. They KNEW their Matron Goddesses prepared an Afterlife for them. They lived and died with iron-clad faith in that. They taught it to their daughters, who passed it on to their children. This process went back 150 generations.

"Do you ... do you really speak to the Goddess Ishara?" Madori asked, twisting her logical mind about the conundrum of my words: 'why her and not Alicia'? What had Alicia done wrong? Until I spoke on the matter, she had shoved such worry to the back of her mind. She was in a First House, which was the new center of her existence.

"Yes," I replied. I bit down on trying to insert a joke into this seriously spiritual moment.

"What does she tell you?" Madori uttered the words, but they were echoed in the face of every Isharan in the room.

"The messages vary. I have vomited out more blood in one session than I have in my entire body -- ask Buffy. I have been told to sleep with an Augur. Later she -- Dot Ishara, told me Tadêfi, the Augur, was going to die in premature childbirth and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. 'Why' I had to put an Isharan heir in Tadêfi has not been explained to me and probably never will."

"She likes fortune cookies. She is jealous of the Goddess SzélAnya because that goddess has saved my life ... twice. Dot Ishara has also intervened to save my life too. Of greater importance to me, she has spared Aya Epona when I begged for her help," I kept going. I had their rapt attention now.

What I was saying you couldn't put into a handbook, or normally pass from the uninitiated to the uninitiated.

"I have hated her for some of the misery I have committed at her request. I have served her without explanation because I acknowledge I am Ishara -- Wakko Ishara -- and this is what we Amazons do -- fight for our Matron Goddesses."

"Our reward is pain and suffering. It is daughters and sisterhood. It is raising our young and taking comfort and giving comfort on the night before we take ourselves to the cliffs when our time comes. All our sisters who have passed before us are waiting to take us to our true home."

"No matter what else happens to us, we will never be alone again. In this life and the next, we are bound by more than blood and oaths. We are bound by a common destiny and a unifying goal. That goal is the Will of Ishara.

"And that is why you anger me so tonight. Not one of you has suggested I have not been true to Dot-Ishara, to Yakko-Ishara and to every Isharan who is and has ever been."

"A proper challenge is made when your House Head has betrayed your House and/or the Host."

"You challenge them AFTER you have set forth your grievances and your House Head has failed to successfully address them.

"Instead ... why are you any of you challenging me?" I glared my displeasure over them. "Don't answer that. Don't bother. We all know it is because I have a dick. Not one of you has challenged the legitimacy of my bloodline. Not one charge of treason has been leveled against me."

"By the Goddess!" I thundered. "Who here doesn't know what I do for the Host on a day to day basis? If you don't know, have you ever considered asking someone who might? Despite the disrespect you have shown me and the Goddess, have I ever challenged any of your selection for joining in a House I lead?"

"Of course not. I serve Ishara, as should you all. I have shown all of you absolute faith and honest solidarity. Tonight, you have let me, your sister, down. I desperately need your support, your comfort and your trust. To reward my efforts in doing a job I was unprepared for, yet couldn't deny, you have showered me with your hate. Good night."

I stalked off the mat, retrieving my dropped axes. I set the four weapons in their hooks on the wall then headed for the exit. Pamela had taught me you tend to your weapons before you tend to your life.

"Ishara," Madori called out. I kept walking. "Wakko Ishara," she called out again. I stopped, looked over my shoulder and gave her a blank face.

"I had not thought this through. I apologize," she lowered her head. Around her others nodded.

"I don't care," I glowered. "I don't want your words. I want deeds. I don't want your respect. It is not something I find any value in right now.

"I don't want your comfort. You have denied me solidarity when I so desperately need it. I trusted you all implicitly. You were the Chosen of Ishara, named by your sisters as worthy, who had never let me down before. Now? All of you need to work on regaining my trust. Until you do ... until you do, I will accept every challenge. And I promise you I will let your ghost explain to the Goddess and our Ancestors your treachery. Bye."

[A MOMENT WITH HANA]

{1:12 am, Thursday, Sept. 4th ~ 4 Days to go}

"Cáel?" Hana touched my chin, indicating she wanted eye contact.

"Yes?" I obliged. Her naked body lying next to mine was pleasurable and warm. The scent of our sexual coupling remained a happy reminder that we had shared our hunger and passion.

"Normally when we are together, I know I am the totality of your world. I have never felt your mind was elsewhere. Tonight ... I know you have been diligent and caring, yet I know a part of your mind is devoted to something besides our sex and your complete attention to my body and needs. Can I help?" she worried.

"Hmmm ... success has robbed me of many of my primal fears and forced me to think about my future beyond my next weekend, next planned vacation, or who I might meet at a club/bar/walking down the sidewalk," I worked through my cerebral confusions.

"When I started at Havenstone, I mostly feared for my life," I quickly put a finger to her lips. "I'll explain one day, but not tonight. But one morning shortly before we met, I was staring down my eminent demise, only to have my life turned a full 180. I suddenly had family, friends and an extended family to consider. I wanted none of that."

"You grew up, Cáel," she stroked my stubbly chin. "You are trying to grow up. I understand this will be a harder struggle than you can explain right now ... until our children become teenagers."

"That's mean," I joked. "I've actively and systemically resisted being a responsible adult since I discovered what being an adult entailed," I insisted.

"I accept that. I also accept when we are in a room together, your eyes always come back to me. I know you see the sensuality in other women, yet you have never betrayed me. I really, truly appreciate it. I do." She smiled. I smiled.

"That is not a license to cheat," she curtailed my constant subroutine of thought.

"Tell me what bothers you and I'll give you a big reward," she wiggled against my hip. Yay! I'm a simple guy.

"My 'department' tried to demote me a few hours ago. I got pissy and smacked them down for something that wasn't really their fault. I've picked up some bizarre knowledge that is difficult for sane people to accept."

"I told those ladies they had to re-earn my trust. I am wondering if I was too harsh on them," I mused.

"What does Buffy think?" she asked. That was a bit odd.

"She wants to toss a few of them into a 777's engine ... while it is running," I confessed.

"Go with her judgement, Cáel," she consoled me. "She scares me. She also loves you more than life itself. I'll deal with her possessiveness as we learn to time-share you." Time-share? What the fuck!

"No."

"Yes," she pouted. "I'm coming to accept you can't be monogamous. I would like you to keep me first in your life. Do you think you can do that?"

"I ..." I gave it some serious thought. I wouldn't have to totally forgo other romantic liaisons. This was probably the best deal I'd get outside divorce court. "Okay. I now have a goal to work for -- keeping you happy."

"I love you, Cáel. You don't have to respond. I want you to know how I feel. You deserve to know; and I want to be honest with my emotions concerning you," she sighed.

"Thank you. This means a lot to me -- your honesty," I exhale. She'd helped me burn off a good chunk of my anxiety.

"So," I stroked her hair. "You mentioned a reward, or two?" I was thinking about pressing her bodily against her huge glass window overlooking the city while I took her vigorously from behind. Then I could turn her around and warm up those cold nipples with my mouth and tongue.

"Yes," she purred, clearly delving into the depths of my passion. "Dad has agreed to take me down the aisle," she worked her way on top of me, "and I'm pregnant."

Had Hana not been on top of me and definitely in need, I would have gotten out of bed and repeatedly slammed my dick in a door.

[Me] 'Dude, not wearing a condom is not an invitation to paternity!'

[The Other Me] 'Suck it up, Upper Head. A dick's got to do what a dick's got to do.'

[M] 'Bitch!'

[TOM] 'Hehehehe ... happy Father's Day, Playboy.'

[M] 'Fuck you!'

[TOM] 'Speaking of which -- fucking is what I'm trying to do. Get with the Game Plan.'

"What is going on in your mind, Cáel?" Hana teased me.

"I'm having a conversation with my dick," I groused. "And losing."

"Let him play," she showered me with understanding and acceptance. "I'm safe now; let him play." Hana was straddling me with her pussy hovering over my cock. 'He' throbbed. "See, he's willing to make up and play nice."

No, he was not out to play nice. Not now and not ever. Dick!

[DISHONOR, REBIRTH AND THE SACRIFICES MADE FOR BOTH]

[AND THAT BIG TIME JUMP]

{7:03 am, Sunday, September 7th ~ 1 Day to go}

I had to remind myself Amazons came before the advent of the seven-day calendar and they determined their religious celebrations by stellar alignments, not by any specific date. Thus an early Sunday morning formal council session wasn't a common occurrence, but neither was it totally surprising.

Krasimira had requested a full meeting of the Amazon Council. House Ishara was marked by three oddities: my maleness, my personal appearance (Krasimira insisted for no given reason, i.e. standard operating procedure, and on the inclusion of the fourth member now wedged in around House Ishara's place at the table (Buffy, Daphne [Buffy still needed a translator], Juanita [as a member of the House Isharan House Guard] now included myself).

The first surprise for me, and most of the Council, was the replacement of Arwen by Desiree at House Epona's place. The shockwaves of Hayden's passing had most likely allowed Katrina to do some reshuffling in House Epona as well. The only person who was 'late' was Elsa, who still hadn't shown up as the meeting began. Her attendance was purely ceremonial anyway.

The Apprentices began the Prayer of the Ancestors. I did my part towards the end -- the First House Apprentices begin the song (Buffy did her best) and the House Heads of First Houses finish it. Since the Council still hadn't created a Regency Council, it fell to the Golden Mare to get down to business.

"Krasimira, you have requested this meeting," she stood and regarded the woman across the empty High Priestess' chair. Krasimira motioned for her guardian to go get 'something'. Apparently that 'something' was waiting right outside the door, because all the guardian had to do was open it and poke her head outside.

She held the door open for six individuals to file in. First was Elsa, who was looking more gorgeous, vigilant and lethal than normal. Behind her came another one of Krasimira' people holding a 20" diameter, shallow copper bowl by the handles. I could barely make out the glowing embers it contained.

Third, hobbling in with a cane, her face a mask of sorrow, pain and fatalism, was Kwenhamai aka Death Song. At her side, supporting her as best she could was Aya. Behind those two were two more of Krasimira's guardians. The place didn't explode because no one in the room except Katrina, me and (I assumed) Krasimira recognized Kwen by face.

Elsa took a warding position between St. Marie and Kwen, which drew a curious expression from the Golden Mare. Behind Elsa was Aya. Kwen was beside Aya and two guardians were in a warding position between Kwen and the rest of the Council. The bowl-holder (now bowl-less) stood behind Krasimira as did the guardian she had started with.

Kwen took a deep breath. She scanned the sea of curious faces, finally settling on mine. I tried not to cry and failed. I nodded to her and she did to me.

"Few of you here know me. I am Kwenhamai," she began her path and the tone of the room immediately turned ugly. Krasimira stood rapidly and smacked her palm on the table so loudly I knew it had to hurt. Her action made the outrage of the other 51 become stillborn.

"I am Dumalugal (Princess) Kwenhamai, niece of "Esharsanh" [Antiope] and daughter of "Hueksanhbizahhāi" [Penthesilea], of "Munuskappilāibihur" [Orithyia] descendent of "Kururiyahhssi" [Antianeira], first queen of the Amazon {the bracketed phrases are the Greek versions of the Amazons' names}. I am the oldest member of my House," she continued and I believe few caught the 'oldest' bit. Her recitation was her lineage, thus her right to rule.

The last plunge ...

"This is my duma (daughter) and Iwaruwa (heir), Aya of Kururiyahhssi ('she who rebels)." A pregnant pause seized the room.

'A life for a life'. That was what Pamela had told me -- her curse.

What if that had been aimed at me, not her? Maybe her burden was to see me through to this point. Think of Aya and know she deserves to grow up to be an Amazon, just like you. Give her the freedom to do so.'

Where there is Valor, there is Hope yet where there is Hope, there can be Valor too.

Greatness should be measured by the lives you save, not those you take. When the time ... Aya.

Pamela had given me life, I had given Kwenhamai her life on the battlefield and now she was giving Aya a life I could never provide for her ... greatness should be measured by the lives you save. That was not the Amazon way, yet it could be. I had no clue what to do, so I went with my instincts. At this juncture, we had all been rendered powerless ... by hatred and by our unforgiving nature.

"I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi," I declared as I slammed my palm down on the table. I was robbed of the added dramatic flair of standing up abruptly since I had to stand because I had promised to never sit in their presence. To add to the tragic play laid before us, I could barely see Aya. The table was high. All I could see was the top of her shoulders and her head.

"I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi," came from an unexpected direction. It was Kohar of Marda, standing, speaking and slamming her hand down on the table. Next, five seconds later, Fatima's successor echoed the proclamation. The voices cascaded together after that. The last House Head to add her affirmation was Katrina.

She was losing a breeding female of her house. I think the weight of the burden falling on those small shoulders was an even harder emotion for her to deal with. Once more, she sacrificed Aya for the good of all Amazons. There were only two people left -- St. Marie and Krasimira.

St. Marie walked over to the two Royals then touched Elsa on the upper arm. When Elsa stepped aside, the Golden Mare looked down at Aya and, with a slight bow of the head, "I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi."

"The birth of Aya of Kururiyahhssi shall be recorded in the Rolls of the Host," was Krasimira's spin on things. After all, neither hers nor the Golden Mare's vote mattered in this decision -- not legally.

St. Marie's vote was a symbolic representation of all members of the Security Detail who stood outside the House system. Kwen swayed slightly as she drew forth her small Amazon blade then extended a lock of her hair.

"No," Aya whispered desperately. Kwen shot her a grim smile.

"They are your people now," she replied softly. "With you, I have restored our bloodline's honor. Now I must meet my end, and my sins, alone." With that, she sheared off a length of hair, "I will take myself to the cliffs, without a lineage and nameless." She dropped her hair into the coals which popped and crackled as they devoured their offering. Three of us were crying -- me, Aya and Buffy.

Alone, Kwen shuffled painfully to the door. No one would help her.

"Kwenhamai," St. Marie proclaimed in a loud, clear voice. "You are forbidden to take yourself to the cliffs." Kwen turned toward us, her face ashen. She couldn't even die in the traditions of her people -- a final crushing blow.

"At this time we all must seek permission to take ourselves to the cliffs," St. Marie finished. "The Host is at war and we need every set of eyes, hands and feet. No one, full-blooded or Runner, may seek out our ancestors, or purposely end our lives. What reason do you give for seeking permission to end your existence?"

"I would prefer an honorable death," she replied sadly.

"I have been told you fight well, your wounds are not permanently crippling and I see no indication that you have lost the spirit to fight. Your request is rejected. Go to Medical. I will inform Rayen Artio so she may allocate your abilities in a manner which provides maximum benefit for the Host. You do not belong in these chambers. Leave."

This time, one of the SD ladies went to her side and helped her leave. Since that worthy didn't immediately return, I hoped she took Kwen up to Medical. Inside, events continued to unfold. St. Marie was about a foot from Aya and the height difference was comical.

"Is there anything you need?" she looked down at Aya. It was clear to me both women (titan and pixie) were trying to catch up with unexpected events.

"What do you suggest?" Aya asked. "I would like it if you told me," she rapidly added.

"Perhaps I should assign you some bodyguards and tutors," St. Marie suggested. The rest of us were standing around uselessly. St. Marie was in charge and helping out Aya had been added to her long list of duties she needed to perform.

"Oh ... I would like two bodyguards chosen from two different First Houses, plus one House Amazon from each continent. To those, I would like to add an equal number of Runners."

"So, you have thought this out?" St. Marie shot me and Katrina an evil look.

"Oh no!" Aya shook her head. "I'm as much surprised about Kwenhamai's actions and departure as you are. I really wanted her to hang around for several more years -- at least a decade. Fortunately, my Atta has taught me all Amazons must think on their feet and take advantage of every opportunity and turn misfortune to an advantage."

"He has taught that to you?" St. Marie kept her voice steady.

"He did so accidently ~ through my observation of him and overhearing others discuss how he was being trained. Normally, Au ... Katrina of Epona sends him on assignments without telling him what he's supposed to do until he arrives at his destination." That was followed by a hush, then muted amusement among the onlookers.

"I will see to your bodyguard. Is there anything else?" St. Marie remained polite. As we were all about to discover, the Golden Mare had no 'Aya-experience'.

"Yes. From this day forth, I want all male babies turned over to the Royal House," she plowed on. This hush had a darker tone.

"You wish to add men to your House?" St. Marie was back to being upset.

"No," Aya shook her head. "They are men after all. I want them to be taught to be skilled servants and craftsmen. There are numerous non-martial jobs the Host does right now that diverts our efforts from warfare and bringing more daughters into the Host."

"But no warriors?" St. Marie clarified, not only for herself, but for the majority of the Council as well who suspected the perniciousness of me and Katrina.

"In the Royal House? Not now; most likely not for several generations. I love Cáel Ishara with all my heart -- he is my mamētu mešeda (boon companion). He is also a bit of a nut. I think it is best if we give males tasks that don't stress them that much."

Sighs of relief (Aya wasn't poisoned with extremist beliefs) circled the table, followed by nods of approval (Aya was one of them ~ a pure-blooded Amazon with their traditional upbringing) -- fools. Unseen by the rest, Katrina and I knew this was Mamitu! ~ the Amazon belief that training, experience and ability allowed you to achieve victory; no 'luck' required.

"I would like it if the New Directive is pursued with vigor. The grim reality is that virtually all our old male population has passed and, for the sake of genetic diversity, we need to rejuvenate our bloodlines with males strong in mind, body and spirit."

"Is there ... I hear the wisdom in your words, Dumalugal," St. Marie had reversed directions emotionally and was starting to take her princess very seriously. As Katrina and I knew, Aya was super-bright; an Amazon of Legend inside a tiny frame.

"I would like it if my bodyguard served the Royal House for ten years at which time they will return to their native House. Runners will resume being Runners unless they are adopted into a House."

"I would like it if the First Directive was pursued with greater vigor as well," she piped up. "If the rest of the Houses don't get their acts together, House of Ishara is going to pick up all the superlative ones. I don't think anyone in this room -- except Cáel, Buffy and Daphne -- wants to see a House Ishara with 1,000 sisters."

"A thousand Runners are still the equivalent of a thousand formers Runners with the name Ishara attached," Messina murmured. I wasn't sure if I would be able to stop Buffy ... mainly because I wanted to jump down Messina's throat first.

"May I address the Council, Golden Mare?" Aya maintained her illusion of subordination. This was a brilliant Aya actively assuring the Council that she had no intention of becoming Queen anytime soon.

"Let me consider it, Dumalugal," St. Marie leaned up to look at me (?). Aya's hand sprang up over her head mimicking the action of a student seeking attention. St. Marie's eyes flickered down to Aya.

"House Ishara, how do you wish to handle that insult?" she addressed me.

"Insult?" I pretended to be surprised. "Messina behaving in a blindingly infantile manner is something we both expect and pity. If she ..."

"How dare you?" Messina simmered.

"If she knew anything about the workings of House Ishara, the sisters of House Ishara, or Runners in general, then her babblings might have some value," I continued. "She doesn't, so we ignore her as we would ignore any outburst from an un-casted."

"Blood feud," Messina stood up and snarled. Aya was bouncing up and down.

"Yes, Dumalugal?" St. Marie withheld her reaction in order to see what the princess wanted.

"Please, would you call me Aya? Being Dumalugal scares me enough without always being reminded about it. Also, I would like to avoid any blood feuds while the Host is locked in such a vital struggle."

"I would like it if five members of House Minerva and House Ishara battled each other in a melee to settle this manner. If House Minerva wins, Cáel Ishara should be compelled to make a public apology at the next Council meeting for rudely refusing to acknowledge the opinion of another Head of House."

"If House Minerva fails, then Messina of Minerva will forever forgo conveying any insult concerning Runners and former-Runners. Do you think that would be a fair decision?"

"You are very dangerous," St. Marie stated loud enough to be clearly heard to everyone. "Our enemies should tremble as the years diminish until your coronation."

"I plan to learn from the very best," Aya punctuated this by reaching out and putting her small hand in St. Marie's. In that instant, St. Marie was whisked back to the years when her own daughter was Aya's size.

"The Host will do it's very best to prepare you for the duties you will have to take up when the time comes," she promised in a much kinder voice. Go Aya!

"I am waiting for the next 'I would like'," the Golden Mare added.

"I would like Shawnee of House Arinniti, Rhada of House Meenakshi and Buffy of House Ishara to consent to being the three members of the Regency."

"House Arinniti is an established First House and Shawnee provides the gravitas, wisdom and experience of a House Head."

"Rhada is from a new House and brings the perspective of an Apprentice to the process. I would like it if we considered the fact that most of our warriors will be closer to her age than the age of House Heads."

"Buffy has the most experience dealing with Runners and will serve as a beacon for the Runners in the same manner the heritage of our Houses' histories inspire 'we' fortunate enough to be raised by Amazon grandmothers, mothers, aunts and sisters does." Aya had deftly avoided the use of the term 'full-blood'.

"Why don't we simply put the crown on her head now ... beyond the fact it would fall straight past her shoulders to the ground," the Head of House Bendis remarked rather bitterly. I had to think ...

"Her names is Klavdiya," Buffy filled me in through clenched teeth.

Aya's hand shot up again.

"I would 'like' to handle this one," St. Marie smiled down at Aya. Aya dropped her hand immediately. "Klavdiya, I have decided your lack of close proximity to Dumalugal Aya of Kururiyahhssi has clouded your perception of events. What you mistake as a usurpation of power is a little girl trying to avoid responsibilities beyond her experience."

"That wasn't ..." Klavdiya stared to defend her utterance. St. Marie held up her hand warding the Head of House Bendis to silence.

"Before you continue, pay careful attention to who her birth-aunt was." Technically, Aya had no family anymore. Kwen had exited the Royal House so that the Amazons wouldn't have to deal with her treachery.

"Our Princess grew up around a woman whose keen intellect we rely on to protect us from unseen enemies," St. Marie's voice became deeper and more threatening. "At the age of ten, she ..." St. Marie looked my way as my hand shot up mimicking Aya's identical plea for attention.

"Yes Ishara?" St. Marie chose to acknowledge me.

"She's nine."

"Fine. At the age of nine, she earned an honorific -- Mamētu mešeda -- which I didn't accomplish until my 19th year." 'Yes Ladies, I'm an epic bad-ass and I've been out-performed by a child'.

"She was kidnapped along with the Head of House Ishara. They tortured her by clipping off two of her digits -- one at a time -- then seared the damage with a blowtorch. She gave them nothing. At the end of the encounter, the two of them managed to defeat thirty Seven Pillar's commandos -- over fifteen she disabled personally."

"AFTER killing nearly half as many enemies as the 35 I have personally dispatched in my entire career, she crossed a mile and a half of barren rock in the midst of a Category 4 Typhoon. Cáel Ishara only helped her half of the way because he was engaged with the last two members of the Seven Pillar's team."

"I have utter confidence the madness here today, while assisted by House Epona and Ishara, was the brainchild of Krasimira. I say 'assisted' because Cáel Ishara spared Kwenhamai's life on the battlefield. Katrina Epona removed Kwenhamai from Romanian custody to keep her out of the hands of those who wished us harm. I was aware Kwenhamai was in New York, but not her precise location."

"My read on the situation is this:

"Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopt her into the bloodline of the FIRST Amazon."

"She was not aware of Kwenhamai's plan to exit the Host in the manner she chose. I read the shock and pain in ... Aya's face."

"Our Princess has not given me a single order and I am the only voice here today that matters -- I am the Golden Mare and the Council has consistently failed to agree on a Regency."

"Krasimira -- why have you done this?" St. Marie abruptly asked for either a denial, or acquiescence of her perception of events.

"As directed by the Ancestors, the statute of a goddess of a First House was recast then returned to her perpetual spot. It brought new light to a dark, sacred and painful place. In that moment I realized that for the first time in nearly 3,200 years, the descendants of every Amazon gathered before the walls of Wilusa (Troy) had been reunited."

"I was troubled. Was this a portent the augurs couldn't divine? In their council (the augurs) the came up with the words 'speak to our eldest'."

Oh shit ... the rest of the Council was racking their minds trying to figure who was the oldest surviving Amazon. I knew for a fact they were overlooking the two top candidates.

"I sought out the eldest Amazon alive. They claimed to not have the answer for my worries. She had far more numerous things weighing on her mind such as her intimate demise. Though I hated sharing the same air with her, I asked her to tell me her greatest regret."

"I had given up on the Amazon Race until an Amazon reminded me, through martial effort, valiant spirit and a kind heart, I was wrong to abandon my faith with my people. Now I will die, unable to pass on my renewed hope because the one Amazon I would trust with my legacy is equally childless."

"I asked her the name of this Amazon she felt was worthy of her legacy. Then I informed her she was wrong and the Amazon in question did indeed have a daughter. She asked to meet the daughter ..."

"Last night I requested the presence of a female child residing with members of House Epona," the Keeper of Records looked up at the Golden Mare. "I provided neither the resident female (Caitlyn, Aya's Mother), or the House Head with an explanation."

Female child ... since my revival, Amazons were using 'female' child a lot more often. This meant ... Caitlyn had never told her daughter farewell. The true fate of Aya of Epona would never officially be recorded. She has been born, but never recorded as an Amazon of her House.

"The three of us met alone. The two embraced; mother and daughter. The eldest of us proclaimed she saw the light of Kururiyahhssi in her daughter's eyes. Words were exchanged. The child agreed to be adopted then departed. Further arrangements were made without the child's knowledge as we have recently observed."

"I testify that there is only one Amazon alive today who knows what transpired and I will take those conversations to my grave. Does that suffice?" Krasimira finished. I was already regurgitating my mental quandary with my Isharans. Was Aya really a daughter of Kururiyahhssi?

"I will leave it to the others to contemplate your ... bizarre actions, Krasimira," St. Marie frowned. "As for the rest of you, Aya has impressed me. If she has not impressed you, I do not care. I think she is definitely influenced by those two," St. Marie motioned to Katrina and me. "It is a given since Katrina was of her blood and she has risked much in the presence of a man she calls 'Atta' and he calls 'Duma'."

"Katrina is a cold, heartless snake and I am convinced she is one of the best 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death' the Host been served by in a long, long time. Cáel is a fool who leads with his heart when he should let better women take charge. Fortunately for the rest of us, he is reliably successful despite his multitude of handicaps."

Was I upset about being insulted? No. The truth hurts and a Man needs to learn to roll with the punches. Buffy I could deal with. Katrina most likely appreciated being associated with a dangerous reptile. St. Marie hadn't forgotten Katrina threating St. Marie's daughter that was for sure.

"I am considering much of what our Princess would like me/us to do ... because it is based in keen insight and well-reasoned thought. She wishes to spare our sons so we will have more warriors in the fight. We have already added men to Havenstone and one to the Council -- as was the Will of the Ancestors."

"Let me see -- she wishes a bodyguard of fourteen (2 First House and 1 from Africa, Asia, Europe and North & South America -- the Amazon presence in Australia was minimal and I doubted they would bring someone up from Antarctica, plus the seven matching Runners) without removing permanent members of any House and allowing all Houses to have access to our future Queen. I approve. It is a fine idea and I wish I had thought of it."

"Should we add Runners directly into the Royal House? She doesn't think so and I feel this decision shows a remarkably insightful into the long history of our People and protects the Council's sensitivity on such matters. I approve."

"Placing our sons into the care of the Royal House? We need to free up as many sisters as possible. Men under the care of the Royal House will be tradesmen and help-mates. Not a single weapon will be in their hands. If none of you have realized herlike will take two decades to implement ... it only increases my eagerness to see her become 'casted'."

Aya's hand shot up again.

Yes?"

"I would hope the Council, or the Regents, will consider a 'like' which is not mine. It is a man's and it should be of no surprise the idea is Cáel's."

"If you feel it holds merit, Aya, tell us," St. Marie deferred.

"The 9 Clans have shown some interest in a children exchange programs among our youth as it would provide new techniques we can add to our arsenal an a new avenue to experiment with new ideas. I find the idea to be promising as the Host takes part in affairs beyond our own immediate needs. It would also supply partners between families to be shared for a season or two."

Translation: Amazon women could breed with men of allied Secret Societies to reduce our dependence on our own, much smaller, male population. In the short term, it would go a long way to rectifying the Host's child-bearing problems.

The Council's quarrelsome behavior was biting them in the ass big time. St. Marie was right -- the only opinion that mattered was hers until the Council elected a Regency. Had we not been at war, the Council would have ruled, but we were, so we took orders from the Golden Mare. Even if the High Priestess had been alive, she would have deferred to our designated War Leader on most things.

"Cáel Ish ... Cáel Wakko Ishara is a very dangerous and devious male, Aya. Be careful of any council he gives," St. Marie's caution was more playful than menacing.

"I'll be okay," Aya peeped. "He doesn't have sex with any woman until she is eighteen." That wasn't what the Golden Mare was cautioning her about. We all knew it. Aya was working to defuse a sticky bit of mental juggling -- listening to a man's advice.

"On that we can agree," St. Marie conceded. "Back to what I would 'like' to say. The New Directive is being implemented. I feel it goes beyond the purview of my mandate. I will leave it for the Regency to deal with. Katrina and Tessa have already invested in the groundwork in this endeavor, so I will endorse it if that is the decision of the Regency."

"I have ZERO desire to add a single Runner to the Security Detail. I will open up slots in the training program if that is what the Regency demands. Each House's policy for dealing with the First Directive is their business, not mine. If any of you wish to consider something the Princess considers to be important, so be it. The idea of 1,000 Isharans does not appeal to me. Look how much trouble their tiny numbers have already caused us and take heed."

Buffy began growling, which amused/worried the Houses on either side of us. Unlike me, Buffy didn't 'roll with the blows' and considered all manner of insults to me, House Ishara and her Isharan sisters to be answerable with violence. I loved her so. There was also no way I'd let her go after St. Marie. The Golden Mare would crush her; I had no doubt.

"The unwelcome blood feud: are both House Heads ignorant of my forbiddance of such things? Apparently so. Both defied me by tossing insults back and forth. Considering we are at war with two of the most powerful Secret factions, I am angered by both for their idiocy."

"The solution the Princess likes is rather novel," St. Marie was punishing both Messina and me with her low voice and fiery gaze. Krasimira coughed.

"Yes?" St. Marie suspended her anger.

"The suggested resolution is not without precedence," Krasimira spoke with a scholarly detachment. "In our early days, the Host settled such disputes in Spring and Fall gatherings by contests of foot speed, hunting, horsewomanship, archery and wrestling. If we revive the tradition, the competing Houses could nominate one woman for each contest to settle the matter. Only the hand-to-hand match would risk either contestant's health."

"I will consider it and render judgement before the Sun sets today," St. Marie nodded. "The final like pleases me greatly. Dealing with the 52 of you is ... Cáel?"

I was on the spot. I couldn't let down my fan base of one -- Aya. Perhaps it was five -- Buffy (who would never admit it), Daphne (who liked me), Katrina (because she liked fucking with my head) and Desiree (who was less likely to admit she found me funny than Buffy).

I felt I gave a decent effort.

"'A ginormous pain in my hemorrhoids?' the basic one."

"'More painful than having my cornea scrapped with a spoon?' more gruesome."

"'Enough to make me want to give Sakuniyas a surprise French kiss?' most likely to be fatal."

"'Worse than waking up to discover I'm related to Cáel Wakko Ishara?' most horrifying -- for both of us."

"'Inspiring me to toss it all away and take up Professional Bikini Mud Wrestling?' a personal fantasy of mine."

"Why do we put up with him again?" one House Head remarked.

"Because I am worried that one," motioning to Buffy, "will stab me in the elevator after a meeting."

"My First, are you acting psychotic around the Council members?" I looked over my shoulder at Buffy.

"Wakko Ishara, it is not an act. I am psychotic," she responded deadpan.

"Are you still packing that thermite grenade?"

"No Wakko Ishara. Daphne stole it from me and hid it," was her quick delivery.

"I love working with you two," Daphne whispered.

"What is it with you, your unsubtle sexual innuendo and me in a bikini?" St. Marie stared at me.

"I find the combination of brilliance and lethality sexy. Just ask Elsa," I grinned. Then I grimaced as Buffy stomped on my toes. The House Heads and Apprentices on either side of me noticed and clearly expected me to do something ... like to show outrage (because she was my underling), or start crying (because I was a guy).

"Prestige," Daphne hissed quietly. "Prestige." She was reminding Buffy that beating me up in public made the other Amazons think even less of me than they already did.

"I will go with (B) -- the cornea scrapping," St. Marie gave me a nod.

"Damn it," I muttered. I also got my foot out of the way before someone did any more damage to my phalanges.

'Best Daddy Ever,' Aya mouthed to me. Back to the main action.

"It is not my place to order the rest of you to elect Shawnee, Rhada and Buffy to be the Regency. I do admit I admire the mixture of candidates," St. Marie declared. I shot Rhada a quick look. She seemed really, really enamored of the idea of being part of the Regency, thus staying in New York for the next decade, or so.

"Before the idea is rejected out of hand, I suggest we ask the three people our Princess would like to be part of the Regency if they would accept the nomination," the Golden Mare continued. "Shawnee Arinniti?"

"I bow to the logic and reason of the proposal," Shawnee replied.

"Rhada Meenakshi?"

"I wish to join my sisters in battle, yet I accept the reasoning behind the proposal," Rhada nodded. "If my Head of House agrees, I will stay and do my part for our People." What was she saying to me? 'You are going to whip me, beat me, torture me, humiliate me and push me to beyond the limits of any pain I have experienced until I pass out ~ repeatedly'.

"I despair of finding any other compromise," Mahdi frowned. "If my Apprentice understands the greater difficulty she will face gaining prestige among her House-mates, I will consent to this proposal." Essentially a 'yes'.

"Buffy Ishara?"

"I was really looking forward to ripping the spines out of still living foes, but I would be a fool to go against Aya of Kururiyahhssi's smarts. If Wakko Ishara wants to walk out of this room unassisted, he will see the wisdom of this decision as well," she gave me a shark's smile. Daphne had surpassed her limit and punched Buffy.

"Hell ya, I agree," I exclaimed. "Now I know there will be certain times of the day when she isn't stalking me."

"I'll work more pain into our limited schedule," Buffy grumbled.

"Are we sure he is the House Head and she is the Apprentice?" Yet another House Head joined the 'shit on me' train.

It was telling of our group dynamic how we accepted the Pyramid of Pain. The underlings dispensed advice and violence as they felt necessary without their 'superior' getting pissy about it. Buffy felt totally justified hitting me and accepted being hit by Daphne ... who continued to act unimpeded as Buffy's rapid-fire translator.

"If I was House Head, I'd handcuff him to me," Buffy clarified for her.

"What she said," I pointed a thumb Buffy's way. I'd have used a finger, but she might have grabbed, twisted and made me scream in pain.

"Perhaps the Council can vote on this as their second order of business," St. Marie cloaked her command as a suggestion.

"Cáel Wakko Ishara, can I ask you a personal question?" Kohar of Marda caught my attention.

"Shoot ... wait, probably not the best terminology in this crowd. Ask away," I replied.

"Have you faced a House challenge yet?"

"Yes. Just last night in fact. We free-climbed the north-face of Havenstone. I beat the next closest contender by three floors. I also had Princess Aya on the roof dropping bricks on anyone who attempted to get past me."

"That means he isn't going to answer you," Beyoncé interpreted for my audience.

"Can't you ever take these meetings seriously?" Febe Mielikki glowered.

"La ... Febe, in the past few minutes I have watched the person I love most in the world get her life shat on," I shook my head.

"The only thing worse than seeing this happen to Aya is knowing this is her sole opportunity to not lose her soul ... so I'm sucking up my heart's pain and putting forward a jester's persona so I don't put any more pressure on her than she's already been subjected to. Like me, she doesn't want the distinction of being a Person of Note."

"Like me, she knows she must sacrifice her dreams for the sake of our People -- the Amazon Host. Trust me, you would rather have 'me - the jester' than 'me - the Amazon' furious with the destiny that has foisted this pain on her'. Do any of you take responsibility for forcing the events of this morning?" I growled. If they wanted to see the other side of the Janus, so be it.

"Had you chosen a Regency in the FUCKING weeks you've been bickering, Kwenhamai could have been dealt with privately. The fate of the Royal House could have been put off a few years. Had you not all been so dead-set on being heroines of the Host, three of you would have sacrificed your bloodlust, your birthright and the future accolades you could recite on your final night (before taking themselves to the cliff) ... but none of you did."

"Instead, you set the stage for dumping all of your indecisiveness on the slender shoulders of a nine year old girl most of you had written off as too fractured and frail to survive her 12th year only three months ago. So Febe how do you like the honest 'me'?" I finished off furiously.

It was not lost on anyone in the chamber I was an Amazon raging against the cruelty of fate. Every other bitch in the room knew they had discarded MY DAUGHTER's life as trivial and I was prepared to unleash violence on the next one to show an ounce of disrespect over Aya's surrendering of her destiny and my grief at failing to find a way to stop this from coming to pass. St Marie had just reminded them that I was 'reliably" successful despite my handicaps. Not an enemy anyone in the room wanted any part of. Saku would have been proud.

[A FINAL NOTE]

I have been remiss in informing my readers of the names of the 53 Houses, even though I created it some time ago. I have made a few alterations to the original version as I've had to rethink certain parts of this tale, but here is the list I now use.

LIST OF GODDESSES

The First Twenty Houses in no particular order :

1) Ishara -- Oaths, Medicine and War (to North America) (died out 450 CE; Reborn in 2014)

2) * (Deceased) Anat -- Goddess of War, Fury and Blood Sacrifice (died out 6th cent. BCE) ~ possibly resurrected by Sakunyias

3) Anahit -- water, wisdom and war (to North America)

4) Arinniti -- Sun Goddess (to North America)

5) Hanwasuit -- Sovereign Goddess

6) Illuyankamunus -- Dragon God (to North America) [Special Case]

7) Inara -- the Hunter Goddess

8) Šauška -- fertility, War, healing

9) Kamrusepa -- Healing medicine magic (to Africa)

10) Lelwani -- Goddess of the Underworld (to Africa)

11) Hapantali -- Pastoral Goddess.

12) Hatepuna -- Sea Goddess (to India)

13) Hannahannah -- Mother Goddess

14) Moirai -- Fate

15) Selardi -- Lunar Goddess (to Africa)

16) Nammu -- Primordial Sea, sailing, sailors (to India) (to Indonesia)

17) Uttu -- Goddess of plants (to Africa)

18) Lahar -- Cattle Goddess (to Africa)

19) Ereshkigal -- Queen of the underworld (to India)

20) Istustaya and Papaya -- Twin Goddesses of Destiny (to North America)

[ADDITIONAL HOUSES FOUNDED IN EUROPE]

(Code: Sc = Scythian; T = Thracian, P -- Phrygian, C = Celtic, R = Roman, Sl = Slavic)

21) (Sc) Marda -- the One-Eyed Goddess/Vengeance {fantasy creation}

22) (Sc) Farānak -- A Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress (Dora)

23) (Sc) Stolgos -- Monstrous Slayer of Greeks (known to the Greeks as the Gorgon Stheno) {semi-historical}

24) (T) Cotyttia -- Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter (to North America)

25) (T) Bendis -- Thracian Goddess of the Moon and Hunting.

26) (T) Semele/Rajah -- Thracian Goddess of the Earth and Birth (to India)

27) (T) Hylonome -- Centaur Goddess

28) (P) Cybele -- Phrygians Earth Goddess on Lion's throne (to the Amazon)

29) (C) Andraste -- War Goddess; also Goddess of the Moon and Divination; 'the Rabbit Goddess'

30) (C) Epona -- Horses (to North America)

31) (C) Cyhiraeth -- Goddess of springs whose war cry precedes death (to Africa)

32) (C) Maeve -- War Goddess, the Enslaver of Men

33) * (Deceased) (C) Nantosuelta -- Earth, Fire and Fertility (died out 1st cent. BCE)

34) (C) Artio -- the Bear Goddess (to North America)

35) (C) Nemain -- Goddess of War and Panic

36) (R) Minerva -- Roman Goddess of War & Strategy

37) * (Deceased) (R) Diana -- Hunting and Archery (died out in India 16th cent. CE)

38) (Sl) Živa -- Love and Fertility

49) (Sl) Morė - Goddess of harvest, witchcraft, winter and death (to North America)

40) (Sl) Zorja -- The twin Guardians (Evening/Morning Stars)

41) * (Sl) Oźwiena -- fame and glory (died out in 1944)

42) * (Sl) Koliada -- Sky Goddess and deity of sunrises/dawn (died out 17th cent CE)

43) (F) Mielikki -- Goddess of the Hunt

44) (N) Skaði -- giantess, Goddess of bow-hunting, skiing, winter, and mountains

[ADDITIONAL HOUSES FOUNDED IN INDIA]

45) (I) Mookambika -- Demon Slayers

46) (I) Bhadra -- Goddess of the Hunt (to Indonesia)

47) (I) Meenakshi -- The Liberator [Rhada and Madi's House]

48) (I) Durga (Dark Mother) (to Indonesia)

49) (I) Chandala Bhikshuki -- Queen of Night -- Death, Destruction and Rebirth

50) (I) Jaya (Goddess of Victory)

51) * (I) Chelamma -- the Scorpion Queen (died out 16th cent.)

[ADDITIONAL HOUSES FOUNDED IN AFRICA]

52) (A) Oshun -- (Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits)

53) (A) Yemonja -- Mother of Rivers (to the Amazon)

54) (A) Oba -- Goddess of Betrayal and Exile

55) (A) Oxóssi -- Goddess of Hunting, Forests, Animals and Wealth

56) (A) Jengu -- Goddess of Jungles and Water Spirits

[ADDITIONAL HOUSES FOUNDED IN NORTH AMERICA]

[NA = Native American]

57) (NA) Uusheenhiton [noo'uusooo' heeninouhuusei hitoniho'] (Arapaho) -- Storm Horse Sister {fantasy creation}

58) (NA) Gahe -- Apache (supernatural spirits who live in the mountains)

[PROSPECTIVE HOUSE]

59) New -- (Hittite) SzélAnya -- the Dragon's Daughter

[CURRENT NUMBER OF HOUSES' CENTRAL LOCATION]

12 in North America (9+Ishara from Europe and 2 native)

10 in Africa (6 from Europe and 5 native)

3 in Amazonia (1 from Africa and 2 from Europe)

8 in India (3 from Europe and 7 native)

3 in Indonesia (2 from India and 1 from Europe)

17 in Europe

6 Deceased