Copyright Disclaimer: the characters of Janice Covington, Melinda Pappas, Xena, Gabrielle, etc. belong to MCA/Universal and/or Renaissance Pictures.  This story is in the category of fan fiction.  I don’t anticipate any material gain from this, so please don’t sue me.  (I'm broke, anyway.)  This is for fun, not money.  The other characters are mine.  Ares falls into public domain, I suppose. (Does the God of War have a lawyer?)

Violence disclaimer: some.  Nothing super-gross.  Don’t read, if it offends you.  There is reference to a suicide in here; if you are badly affected by that, please don’t read this story.

Sex disclaimer: Yep. (Oh, goody!!)  ALT, in the sense that the story portrays two women in a deep, loving relationship.  Nothing blatantly graphic, though, just some warm and fuzzy stuff. (Aww!) 

Comments, questions, suggestions, etc.?  Legit feedback can be sent to me at dbelt@mindspring.com. 

Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.   I realize that I probably took a few liberties with the details of the characters and that avid Xenites will spot them in a second.  Please don’t get too upset with me; writing fiction gives one a delicious license to slaughter detail.  Also, if anyone reading this is actually into archaeology, they were probably gnashing their teeth the whole time.  Sorry.  Made for a good story, though, huh? 

Miscellaneous bardic incoherent mutterings:  This story takes place after (a long time after!) the grand finale of the sixth season, and is the result of a question lingering in my feeble mind concerning what happened after we saw Gabrielle sailing away, holding Xena's ashes.  Who better to figure it out than their alter-ego/descendants from the 20th Century, Janice and Melinda (with a bit of help from their friends)?

This is the first of a series of Jan and Mel stories, and is the first story I ever wrote.  Yup, this is the one which started it all.  I re-edited it and revised it slightly before posting, so that it would be more enjoyable for you.  Hope that you have half as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

Now, dear friends, get ready for mystery and adventure!

 Chapter One

Archaeological dig about 40 miles northwest of Athens, Greece, 1946.

     Mack emerged from his tent, pulled his worn fedora hat low over his eyes, and surveyed the low Grecian foothills.  It was, to his estimation, another perfect day.   The sun was warm, the coffee fresh, and the feel of ancient Greece was so close about him that he could literally reach out and touch it.  He had always loved ancient Grecian history, and had earned a doctorate in that area of study. 

     His participation in the recent war, however, had interrupted his career.  With his three-year hiatus from academic life , he found that landing a post-war professorship had been harder than he had expected.  Were it not for his old friend and colleague, Janice Covington, hiring him to assist with background and historical research on her present dig, he would probably be in dire straits indeed. 

     Yes, he reflected, Janice was always there in a pinch.  They had known each other for a long time now, ever since the early years of graduate school.  Even back then she was an odd duck, very unconventional about her personal appearance and habits.  Janice seemed a contradiction of sorts, a study in extremes.  She was an attractive woman, but never used makeup and would die before wearing a dress.  She actually seemed to prefer men’s clothes.    Her form was petite, but athletic and full of strength.  She was also a lot of fun to pal around with, as she had a taste for booze and excitement that was unknown in the majority of their fellow students.  Whenever they would escape the confines of the university to drink a bit at a local bar, hike and ride horses in the country or sail the bays,  her companionship was always an unpredictable pleasure.   Talented students of archaeology and history,  the two of them had often fortified each other’s study habits with late night cramming sessions during exam week and drinking binges immediately afterwards.  Yes sir, she was a different kind of gal.  One in a million, as his dad used to say. 

     Mack smiled wanly as he also recalled that, sometime during all that youthful whirlwind of activity, he had developed a tremendous infatuation for Janice.  It nearly crushed him at first when she didn’t reciprocate.  He couldn’t understand why.  After all, hadn’t they even--- what was the expression--- “rolled in the hay” once or twice?   It wasn’t until he had stupidly burst in upon Jan’s room one day, only to find her tangled together with another female student beneath the covers of her bunk, that the full implications of her being “a different kind of gal” really hit home.  The incident had definitely preserved their friendship, though, as Mack finally understood that her hesitation to become romantically linked with him wasn’t really personal.  He just didn’t possess the right, um,..... attributes? 

     Mack fumbled in his shirt pocket for a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and began his daily stroll towards the activity of the dig.  Although Janice was in charge of the project, she was in Athens consulting the curator of the museum for a couple of days and meeting a friend who was arriving from stateside.  Mack had agreed to “mind the store” while she was away and insure that the work proceeded smoothly.  The workers, led by several able graduate students, were excavating some tombs that had recently been discovered in the hillsides. While many of the tombs had been vandalized at some past time, a few had not.  Those few were yielding fascinating information now and were the site of the present work.

     As Mack approached the last tomb, he stubbed out his smoke and crouched down to enter the tomb door.  There were several people in the tomb itself, cataloging pottery urns.  “Where’s Sallie?” he called to one of the graduate students inside.

     “She went down to the river for a minute.  She’ll be right back, Doctor MacKenzie.”

     As Mack stood to look towards the river, he heard footsteps and a familiar voice.  “Mack, uh, Doctor MacKenzie, I’m glad I found you!”

     “Hey, Sallie, is everything okay here?”

     “Yeah, going just fine, but I need to talk to you.  It’s important.”  Sallie waved him over to her, away from the tomb. 

     “What’s up?  You should be in there, not out here.  This tomb is your responsibility.”

     Sallie huffed and blew a lock of unruly brown hair out of her face.  “I just went around the hill to wash my face in the river.  I’m friggin’ filthy here.  And don’t give me that artillery captain’s voice of yours, ‘cause you might just kiss me when you see what I found.”

     “What’s that?  More important than here?”  Mack was doing his best, and failing miserably, to chastise Sallie.  She was a bit less disciplined than some of the other graduate students, but so full of infectious  enthusiasm for life in general and archeology in particular  that he could never entertain irritation with her for very long.  Besides, he admitted to himself, he had a weakness for big brown eyes, and Sallie had two of the biggest brown eyes that he had ever seen.  Damn, he thought, she's just so cute, and that Brooklyn accent slays me.  I love it.  What a doll. 

     Sallie's voice cut his pleasant ruminations short.  “You tell me!  The inscription is in Greek, and I only read Latin. C’mon, this way.”   Sallie grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him down the path towards the river.  After a few minutes’ walk, she stopped and pointed to the rocky bluff that the path paralleled. 

     “Right here, Mack.  I slipped on the path---- you know how clumsy I can be sometimes---- and hit my shoulder on the bluff here.  Must have knocked some dirt away.  When I looked, I saw Greek script.”  Sallie’s eyes were aglow and her slender, almost boyish form was tense with excitement as she spoke and gestured with her hands.  “What do ya think?”

     Mack stared at the bluff and whistled softly.  There was definitely Greek script under the dirt.  “Sallie, let’s clear this rascal off and see what it says.  Got a brush?”  Following Mack's example, she produced the ever-present soft brush from her back pocket and they began to brush the dirt from the writing.  Within a few minutes, they had cleaned the script of dirt and vines.  Mack took a step backwards and silently translated the ancient inscription in his mind’s eye.  As he did, his jaw dropped.  The implication of the writing hit him in the chest with the force of a closed fist. 

     “What is it?”  He was vaguely aware of Sallie’s voice near him.  Mack slowly turned and stared at her, his mouth moving but unable to form coherent sounds.  Sallie bounced up and down a couple of times and gesticulated with her hands.  “Well?  What do ya think?”

     “Holy Mary, Mother of God!” was all that Mack could say.  Then, after a couple of seconds, he finished his thought.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve found here?”

     Sallie’s eyes were absolutely sparkling.  She pointed a finger at him as she gloated, “I’ve found another tomb, right?”

     Mack’s lined face broke into a beaming grin.  “Not just another tomb, Sallie.  You’ve found the mother-lode here.  Christ, I can’t believe it!”

     “What?  What?  What the hell is it, Mack?” Sallie punched Mack in the arm and again blew the shock of unruly hair from her face.

     “I’ll tell you in a minute.  Right now, go and get some paper.  We’ve got to make a rubbing of this, and I’ve gotta telegraph Janice to come look at this.  Go! Get some paper for the rubbing.”  Sallie turned on her heels and began to run up the path.  “And Sallie.”  She turned about, and looked at Mack.   “Don’t tell anyone about this.  Nobody.  Got it?”

     Sallie’s look was puzzled, but she nodded.  “Sure, Mack, but why?”

     “Because I want Janice here to crack this one.  Jeez, let me tell you, if this is what it says, you’ve just made your boss,  Doctor Covington,  one very happy woman!” 

Chapter Two.

Athens, later that afternoon.

     Janice Covington entered the lobby of the hotel and stubbed out the end of the small cigar in an ashtray.  She knew that her friend, Melinda, hated the things, and she was waiting for Jan in the room that they shared on the second floor.  As she approached the elevator, she noticed the clerk wave to her from behind the desk.  “Doctor Covington,” he called in his thick accent.  “Come, please.  Here is telegram for you.  Says, ‘ Important!’”  He waved the brown paper in his hand.  Janice’s eyebrow arched in question as she approached the desk. 

     After receiving the paper, she tore it open, perused it, and bolted for the elevator trailing a string of colorful expressions culminating in, “Holy crap. I don’t believe it.  Write up our tab, ‘cause we’re checking out right away!”  The clerk merely smiled and nodded.  Janice was a frequent guest there, and he had long ago learned that nothing was beyond expectation from this unusual American lady.

     Melinda Pappas sat at the small writing desk, poring over a translation of ancient Greek scrolls, as the door burst open and an exuberant Janice bounced into the room.  “Get yer sh-- ah, stuff together, Mel, we’re heading back to the dig right now!  Gotta catch the train!”

     “Goodness, Jan, you fairly gave me a heart attack.  Just what has happened?”  Mel’s smooth southern accent and manner was a stark contrast to the brash personality of her dear friend.

     “Read this and then start packing,” Jan said, as she tossed the telegram onto the desk.  Mel studied her friend for a moment.  Janice was bursting with excitement; her eyes were ablaze, and her body radiated energy.  Whenever Mel saw those clues, she knew instinctively that any rational conversation was useless.  Jan was on to something big.  Mel picked up the telegram and unfolded it.  It read:

              DEAR JAN:

              HAVE FOUND TOMB OF X AND G   STOP   GET YOUR BUTT

              BACK HERE NOW     STOP    SEE YOU AT STATION

                                                              SIGNED MACK

     Mel bolted from the chair and enveloped Jan in a bear hug as the two women shrieked exuberantly and danced in the middle of the room.  “Damn that Mack," Jan shouted.  “I can’t believe he did it.”  Jan then looked hard at Mel.  “C’mon, let’s get packing.  Train leaves in an hour.  Gotta get back before tonight!”  The two women began throwing their belongings into their bags, and in a couple of minutes they were on the street in front of the hotel, hailing a cab.

      Melinda's voice echoed Jan's unspoken thoughts.  “Jan, ah really find it almost unbelievable that their tomb actually exists.  Just imagine, after all these years, after all your father’s research, and yours as well, finally----”

     Jan finished the sentence for her.  “Yeah.  The tomb of Xena and Gabrielle.  This vindicates those of us who believed that they were real historical figures and not just legend.  Not just the product of some overactive bardic imagination.  Oh, yeah, those bastards at the university who loved to laugh at me are gonna have to eat their  words over this.”  Jan’s eyes twinkled at the thought, for she had endured years of their pompous sarcasm for her devout conviction that they were, indeed, real.  Mel began to laugh out loud.  Jan was right.  This was going to be sweet. 

     A worn, aging cab stopped in front of the women and they threw their bags into the back seat.  As they climbed in, Jan gave instruction to the driver and the cab lurched away from the corner in a cloud of smoke and the noise of grinding gears, to the disinterested glances of passersby.          

      All except one, that is, who watched intently from a shady doorway.  As the cab pulled away from the street corner, the darkened figure emitted a deep sigh, began to glow slightly, and then seemingly disappeared into thin air within the depths of the shadows.

Chapter Three.

Train station, at the village near the dig.

     As Jan and Mel emerged from the station, they glanced about, squinting in the late afternoon sun until they caught sight of the dig's familiar dented, battered and slightly rusting truck.  Mack was leaning against the fender, arms folded across his chest and started as he caught sight of the women.  “Hey, Jan, over here.”  Mack approached them and held out his hands.  “Here.  Let me help you with your things.”

     Jan ran towards him, Mel easily keeping pace with her longer legs. “Mack!  How---what---where---?”

     Mack grinned and waved his hand.  “I’ll explain it all on the way, ol' buddy, but right now, how’s about an introduction?”

      Jan winced.  “Oh, yeah, Jeez, where’s my manners?  Mack MacKenzie, this is Melinda Pappas.”   Mel rested her bag on the ground and extended her hand. 

     “Very pleased to meet you.  Jan has told me so much about you.”  Mel’s cultured southern accent was instantly charming to Mack, who suddenly felt a bit like a peasant in her presence.

     “Well, don’t believe all of it,” Mack responded, smiling.  “Anyhow, the pleasure’s all mine.  Gee, Jan, you never told me you had such elegant friends.”

     And, elegant she was, thought Mack, as they shook hands.    Mel was fully a head taller than the petite Janice, and strikingly attractive.  Dark hair, olive skin, and the most piercing blue eyes he had ever seen, she certainly was a strange juxtaposition to Janice’s rumpled outdoorsy appearance, lighter complexion, and blond hair.  He mentally chuckled over the difference between them, chalking it up to the old adage that 'opposites attract'.

     Jan broke the silence as they walked to the back of the truck.  “So, Mack, what makes you think you’ve found Xena and Gabrielle’s tomb?  Hey, this better not be another one of your practical jokes.”

     Mack produced a folded paper from his shirt pocket, held it out to Jan, and assumed his best Humphrey Bogart imitation.  “Read it and weep, sweetheart.  Yer gonna love it.”

     Jan opened the paper and spread it out on the tailgate of the truck. It was a rubbing of ancient Greek script.   As she studied it, her hand shook slightly.  “Oh, yeah.  This is it.” was all that she could say.  Mel pulled the paper towards her and began to slowly translate the Greek out loud.   The rubbing read:

                                      HERE RESTS THE MORTAL FORM

                                           OF THE WARRIOR-BARD

                                         GABRIELLE OF POTADIEA

                                              WITH THE REMAINS

                                            OF HER BELOVED XENA

     Jan turned and playfully punched Mack in the chest with a fist.  “Hot damn!  You really did it!”

     “Hold on, Jan, I didn’t find this.  Your graduate student, Sallie, did.”

     “Sallie?  That---"  Jan sputtered, searching for the word.  "----DITZO found this?”  Her expression was one of total disbelief.  Mack threw back his head in a resounding laugh.

     “Yeah, she did.  Literally stumbled onto it.  And you don’t give her enough credit, Jan.  She’s got a lot more on the ball than you think,” he replied with a grin.

     “Harrumph.  Obviously, she does,” was all Jan could say, and then she began to pace back and forth in front of the other two.  “Oh, yeah, we’ve gotta crack this thing open as soon as we can.  The other work can stop.  I want all this painstakingly documented.  Every bit of this has to be photographed and recorded.  Oh, yeah.  Hot damn.”  Jan stuck a small cigar in the corner of her mouth and clacked her zippo open to light it.  Mack and Mel just stared at her silently, and then cast each other a knowing look. They had both seen Janice look like this before. When she got in this state, there was no stopping her.  Her eyes were ablaze and her body literally quivered with energy.  When these signs were alight on Jan, it meant that they were all in for one hell of a next few days.  If they wanted to share the adventure, they had best scramble to keep up.

     Jan stopped in mid drag on her smoke and looked towards her two friends.  “Well?  What are ya doing?  Don’t just stand there.  Throw that stuff into the truck and let’s get going!  C’mon, times’ a-wasting!  Get yer butts into the truck and let’s go!  I’m driving!”

With that, Jan took off towards the truck cab.  Mack and Mel once again glanced at each other, shrugged their shoulders, threw the bags into the back of the truck and scrambled to the front of the cab as the engine coughed into life and the back wheels spun gravel and dust.

Chapter Four.

The dig, early evening.

     A magnificent sunset was displaying itself in the western sky as the truck rolled to a stop near the tents at the edge of the dig.  The workers, mostly American college students, were eating, relaxing, and washing after their daily labors on the dig site.  Almost before the truck had stopped moving, Janice dropped from the cab and strode towards the tents, calling for Sallie.  Melinda and Mack retrieved the bags from the truck bed and followed at a distance.  By the time they had caught up with Janice, she had found Sallie. 

     “Oh, Hey, Doctor Covington.  How was Athens?” they heard Sallie say. 

     “Terrific, Sallie, but not as terrific as this.”  Janice pulled the paper from her shirt pocket and waved it at Sallie.  “Doctor MacKenzie here tells me that you found this."  Sallie’s face brightened, and she nodded.  “Take me down there and show me.  I gotta see this for myself before it gets dark.  Damn, Sallie, you really came through for me with this one!”

     Sallie blushed slightly at the unexpected praise from Janice.  “Sure, Doctor Covington, this way.  Down by the river.”

      They both turned and began their walk down the path.  Mel and Mack left the bags at the tents and  followed behind them, listening to Sallie recount the accidental discovery to Janice as they walked.  After a couple of minutes, they rounded the bluff and reached the tomb site.  As Janice peered at the rocks and dirt, she could see the script in the deepening shadows.  It was true!  Janice could hear her heart pounding in her ears and felt positively giddy.  She reached out a slightly shaky hand and caressed the script with her fingertips.  “Oh, yeah,” was all that she could say.  Janice then turned and looked at the other three, who had been silently watching her reaction.  Nobody moved for a moment.  Janice, breaking the silence, grabbed Sallie in a tremendous bear hug, actually lifting the her off of her feet.  “Sallie, I love ya.  You stick with me on this one, girl.  You’re gonna get some terrific research credit out of  this.  And, by God, when we publish this, your name is going right at the top!”  Jan dropped the student, then waggled her finger at her as a tremendous grin broke out on her face.  “And I take back every bad thing I ever said about ya.”  Sallie merely hung her head and blushed as peals of laughter erupted from the other three.  Janice turned to Mack and gave him a resounding hug as well.  “Thanks, Mack.  You did the right thing.  And, Mel...”. Janice turned to face her friend.  “I’m sure glad you’re here.  Thanks for coming.”  Janice reached out and hugged Mel a bit more gently than the other two, then voiced a more serious question as she stepped back.  “Who else knows about this?”

     Mack answered.  “Just the four of us, as far as I know.  I didn’t tell anyone in the dig about it.  Did you, Sallie?”

     “No, Mack,uh, Doctor MacKenzie.  You told me not to, remember?”

     Janice spoke again.  “Well, we can’t be absolutely sure about the secrecy of this.  Somebody else may have seen it, and anyway, I need to brief everybody on what we’re going to do here tomorrow.  Word travels fast, and this appears to never have been vandalized.  I don’t want any locals sneaking down here tonight messing with this and looking for gold or whatever.  We need to post a guard tonight.”

     Mack spoke up.  “I’ll take the guard duty.  You guys are gonna be busy enough tomorrow.  You’re going to need your sleep.  Just let me get some coffee first.”

     “Are you going to stay down here all night?  It looks a dreadful place.”   Melinda looked concerned.

     “Yeah.  Don’t worry about me, Melinda.  After three years in the war, this will be a piece of cake.”

     “It’s getting dark.  Let’s get back up to the tents.  I want to brief everybody.”  Jan led the group back up the footpath towards the camp.  “Mack, I want ya to be careful tonight.  Bring your gun.  Sallie, go and gather everybody together now.  I want to talk to them.  And Mel----”

     “Yes, general?”  Was Mel’s teasing response. 

     Janice shot Mel a guilty look.  “Am I getting that bad?” she queried.  Mel simply raised her eyebrows and flashed Janice a crooked grin.  “And Mel, your job will be just to keep me from getting too far out of line.”

     “Good luck, Melinda,” Mack interjected.  “Sounds like you’ve got the roughest job of all.”  Sallie giggled and poked Mack in the ribs with her elbow. 

     “Oh, ah think ah’m up to it, darlin’.  Ah haven’t failed so far, now have I?”

     “Janice,” Mack said, “I think you’ve finally met your match.  I really do.”

     Sallie trotted on ahead to assemble the workers as Mack parted company with the two women and headed towards his tent.  Behind him, he could hear the buzz of excitement as people began to gather near the fire.  Jan’s voice carried as she called for order and began to describe the next day’s activities. 

     As Mack entered his tent, he sat heavily on his bunk and began to rummage in his rucksack.  After a few moments, he produced a metal flashlight and his pistol belt.  He clicked the flashlight on to test it, and the beam seemed strong enough.  Better not to take chances, though, Mack thought, and pulled a couple of extra batteries out of the bag.  These, he dropped into the pocket of his jacket as he pulled it on.  He next turned his attention to his pistol, drawing it from the worn leather holster.  Its feel was cool and reassuring.  Yeah, heavy and accurate, he mused.  A good basic pistol, a thirty-eight special.  Mack began to pull cartridges off the belt,  loaded six into the cylinder, and clicked the revolver shut with a flick of his wrist.  Christ, Mack thought, how ironic that an historian would have to carry one of these things.  Good to have out here, though.  Plenty of varmits about in the night, both the two and four-legged varieties.  He had gotten the habit of carrying a weapon on a dig from Janice, who never went on a dig without hers.  Their pistols had come in handy in certain instances on previous digs, and neither one of them was afraid to use it.  Mack reflected that he certainly wasn’t.  He had been responsible for a fair number of deaths in Italy and he supposed that a couple more in the future wouldn’t matter in the cosmic scheme of things.  He grunted with wry humor as he mentally finished his thought:  Assuming that someone 'up there' is actually keeping track of those things.  If they are, I'm already screwed.   What the hell, never had good karma anyway.

     Mack stood, stuffed the flashlight into his back pocket, and headed towards the kitchen tent as he strapped his pistol belt onto his waist.  The assembly was breaking up and Sallie approached him.  “Looking for that coffee?” she asked, as she eyed the pistol apprehensively.

     “Yeah.  Any left?”

     “Got your thermos right here.” 

     “Thanks, Sallie.  Always looking out for me, eh?”

     “Always, Mack.  Be careful.  Um, do you want me to visit you later?”

     Mack reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.  “Nah.  That path might be dangerous in the dark.  You get some sleep.  I have a feeling you’re going to need it tomorrow.”   Sallie glanced furtively about, assuring herself that no one was looking, and then leaned forward and gave Mack a quick kiss.

     “Gonna miss you tonight.”

     “Yeah.  Me, too.  Go on, and rest well.  I'll see you in the morning.”

     As they parted, Sallie trotting off towards her tent and Mack striding down the path towards the river, Melinda watched them from the flap of the tent that she and Jan shared.  She turned to Jan, who was pulling the battered boots from her feet, and spoke softly.  “Ah had no idea that Mack and---now, what’s her name?  Oh, Sallie--- have something going on between them, did you?”

     Janice dropped a boot heavily to the ground and looked up.  “What? That’s crazy, Mel.  Where’d you get that idea?”

     Mel just chuckled as she drew the blanket over her shoulders.  “Honestly, Janice Covington, you can be so blind sometimes.  Well, g’night, dear.  Ah’ll be asleep in about two seconds.”  Mel settled down on the cot and sighed deeply.  Within five minutes, she was breathing in the slow, luxurious manner of one deeply asleep.    Jan sat motionless on the side of the cot, a puzzled look on her face, and wondered just exactly what else was going on around the dig about which she was clueless.  After a bit, she shook her head, slipped out of her shirt and pants and wiggled down into the cot, relishing the warm, familiar feel of Mel’s sleeping form as she, too, faded into a deep slumber.

Chapter Five.

The tomb, that night.

     Mack approached the tomb site carefully as the darkness had almost completely fallen and the moon had not yet made its appearance.  He looked about the path and nearby trees for a vantage point from which he could see both the path and the tomb door at the same time.  Finally, he selected a site at the base of the tree near the tomb.  After settling himself comfortably at the foot of the tree, he popped the cork stopper off of the thermos and poured a cup of  coffee.  Oh, yeah, he thought, warm and just the right amount of sugar.  Sallie never misses a trick.  Mack suddenly felt an unfamiliar tug of affection taking hold of him, as her name crossed his thoughts.  Yeah, one in a million, that one is.  Sallie's a real sweetheart.  Really am crazy about her.  Gotta try not to screw up with this one.   Mack shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts.  Gotta concentrate.  I’m on guard duty here.  Keep eyes and ears open.  Don’t let the thoughts stray too much.  He shivered as a sudden wave of memory swept over him: the war, the Italian mud, the constant filth and exhaustion, and the ever-present fear of impending death from a nearby, unseen enemy.  To him, the war wasn’t a grand crusade; it was a grinding, brutal, endless job, a bad dream from which there was no escape.  It was simply an application of physics and geometry by which he and his battery of artillerymen lobbed high explosives across valley or foothills in an effort to kill people and destroy things.  He could almost feel the concussion of the large guns, smell the acrid smoke from the howitzer discharges and hear the swearing and shouting of the gunners.  He still got ringing in his ears upon occasion, an after-effect of the constant noise.  Mack shivered and pulled his jacket tightly about him.  Yeah, he had never expected to live through that one. Almost didn’t, one time.  A German tank had found their range and disintegrated one of the trucks near which he was standing.  That son of a bitch was a good shot, he mused.  Mack had been knocked to the ground, deafened and stunned by the concussion.  A few seconds later, hot needles of pain had stabbed through his side as he tried to move and realized that he had taken some shrapnel from the explosion.  By God, he had never felt a hurt like that before or since in his life.  It wasn’t all bad, though, as it got him back to the base hospital in Salerno.  It was good for a month of decent food and hot showers, even though it wasn’t the “million dollar wound” that most of the guys had hoped for.  One of those wouldn’t cripple a fellow badly, but it would send him back to the states.  Mack went back to the front instead, carrying the scars and a bit of the retained shrapnel.   Story of my life, Mack thought.  Day late and a dollar short.  Always catchin’ the wrong train. 

     Mack took another sip of the coffee and glanced skywards.  Good, he thought approvingly.  The moon was up, and it was full.  Got some light to see by.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree trunk.  Got to shake the war, his innermost voice nagged.  The memories don’t do anybody any good.  Nightmares come regularly, but they’re less frequent.  Can’t remember the last time that a night of undisturbed sleep came along.   Maybe it hasn’t been long enough.  Maybe that’s why the booze is such a comfort every now and then.  Maybe, with time, all this will be so distant that it won’t haunt the thoughts anymore.  Maybe, I can get a good night’s sleep again someday.  Maybe.

     The voice silenced as Mack felt all his senses tense and sharpen.  The hair literally stood up on the back of his neck and his skin crawled.  His hand instinctively went to his pistol as he looked about him.  What the hell?  Something’s close by.  Instincts don’t lie.  Mack looked left and studied the path up from the river intently.  Nothing.  He strained his hearing to detect the slightest sound of the movement of a living thing.  Nothing.  Then, he swung his head slowly to the right and the thermos lid fell from his hand.  A band of inexplicable fear tightened across his chest.  Standing near the entrance to the tomb, about five or six feet from him, was a figure, silent, iridescent, unmoving.  “What the----?” was all that Mack could say.  The figure held a finger to its lips.  They stayed that way for what seemed an eternity, studying each other.  Mack shook his head and looked again.  The figure was still there, peering at him.  It was strangely beautiful, and its appearance fascinated him.  It resembled a woman of indeterminate age, dressed very oddly.  Her hair was of light color and not quite shoulder length.  Her garb was brownish through the hue that she projected.  She wore a short skirt, some kind of half-top, and high boots with something projecting from the top of each one.  They looked like---- knife handles, perhaps?  In one hand she carried a staff as high as she was.  Wide metal bracelets adorned both wrists.   She moved her mouth as to speak, but the voice seemed to come from inside Mack’s head. 

     “Please,” the voice said,   “Do not fear me.”  The language was Greek, but the accent was strange and musical.  Mack sat frozen, unmoving, as the figure slowly approached him.  It knelt in front of him and placed the staff on the ground next to its knee.  It spoke in Greek again, a velvet, lilting voice that played through his head.   “MacKenzie, war is hard on the soul.  I know this, as you do.  There is no need to suffer.  Be at peace with it.  You have seen much death.  Now see life.”  The figure was now only two feet from him.  Mack kept his eyes fixed on the strange sight.  It had, he thought, the kindest and saddest eyes that he had ever seen.  The figure reached a hand towards Mack and lightly touched his forehead.  The touch was cold, but at that instant Mack felt a wave of emotion wash over him.  He erupted in an unstoppable flood of tears.  God, what’s the matter with me? Mack thought, as he sobbed uncontrollably.  I'm crying like a baby.  Gotta pull it together.  Get a grip, for Christ’s sake.  With great effort, Mack gained control of himself and raised his head.  The figure was still there, studying him. 

      Mack wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and tried to speak.  “Who are you?  How do you know my name?”  he whispered, and then repeated the questions in Greek. 

     “Not important.  You will know of me soon enough.  Listen now to what I say to you.”  The figure paused for a moment, and the voice then rang through this head once more.   “MacKenzie, you and your friends are of good heart.  You have come to honor our ancient memories. You will find the answers you seek here, but beware the God of War.”

     “The God of---you mean---?”

     The figure held up its hand.  “Do not speak his name.”  It looked towards the sky.  “There is no more time.  The moon is low.  I must leave you.”  The figure grasped the staff and stood before him.

     “Wait.  Don’t go---who---what---?”

     “Remember my warning.  Beware the God of War.  Be at peace, MacKenzie.  Farewell.” 

     Mack blinked and the figure was gone from before him.   He leapt to his feet.   “Crap!!  What the hell was that all about?” he exclaimed out loud.  His hands were shaking and he felt his heart pound hard in his chest.  “Was that a dream?  I gotta lay off that cheap booze.  Holy hell, what just happened to me?”  He stepped into the path and looked around.  All was quiet.  He studied the tomb site again.  Nothing was disturbed. 

     Mack took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  Gotta calm down, he thought.  Just a dream.  No, it wasn’t.  Too real for that.  Maybe I’m losing my marbles, he thought.  See a shrink?  Naa.  He would never believe it.   I’d end up in a padded room, cutting out paper dolls.  He looked at the sky, and noticed a beautiful red sunrise beginning to light the east.  Morning already?  That was a short night.  Drink some coffee; that will settle me down.  Mack picked up the thermos, and took a swallow.  Ugh, the stuff was cold.  How could it have gotten cold so quickly?  Get control of yourself, MacKenzie, you dumb-ass.   Think straight.  The sun is rising.  It’s gotta be morning.  You must have had a hallucination or something.  Is this what they mean by shell-shock?  Christ, I’m going back up to the tents.  Get the hell outta here.   They’ll be up by now.  Janice won’t let anyone sleep late this morning, that's for sure. 

     Mack picked up the thermos lid and his hat and trudged back up the path towards camp.  On the way, he reached up and touched his cheek.  He could still feel the wetness of some tears.  Mack MacKenzie, he thought, what the hell is happening to you?  As he passed by the kitchen tent, Melinda greeted him.  “Sun’s up,” Mack called to her.  “All’s well at the tomb.  Tell Janice I’m gonna get some shut-eye, and I’ll see her later.”  Melinda nodded her understanding, and Mack entered his tent.  God, but he was tired.  He undressed quickly and lay on his cot, pulling a blanket over him.  Within a moment, he was deeply asleep. 

      For the first time in years, Mack slept like a child;  a deep, restful sleep undisturbed by visions of the past and anxious to awaken to a new day.

Chapter Six.

The tomb.

     Janice stood at the entrance to the tomb, surrounded by her assistants.  Under her rapidly barked instructions, they began to clear the dirt and vines away from the bluff wall, searching for the edges of the door.  Within an hour, the door and its framework were clear and they began the careful process of chipping away the plaster that covered the stones and mortar of the tomb door.  Oh, yeah, Janice thought, this is it.  We’ll enter this thing today.  When we do, we’ll need lighting inside.  She instructed one of the students to bring some lamps from the other tombs and to run a power cable down from the generator to power them.  She then assured herself that the student assigned the photography duties was getting documentation of the entire process. 

     By late morning, the plaster was gone and they were working on loosening the stones of the door itself.  They had to be careful here, as Janice wanted the stones pulled outwards, not knocked into the tomb.  Janice cajoled, instructed, and complemented continually; after what seemed an eternity, a large stone near the top of the chest-high door was loose and ready to be extracted.  Janice and Sallie slipped long, slender hooks into the door on either side of the stone and pulled in unison.  With a scrape, the stone slid out and fell to the ground at their feet. Janice grabbed a flashlight and clicked the beam on.  She put her face to the large hole and directed the flashlight's beam into the tomb.  The air smelled musty and very dry.  That was good, Janice thought.  Dry means things haven’t rotted.  Artifacts might be in better shape.  Her eye followed the circle of light as it traveled around the blackness inside the tomb.  There were several large pottery jars lined against the far wall, and that wall also appeared very smooth.  As she concentrated the light upon it, she realized that it was a large mural, with much script and painted with scenes.  The light traveled farther to the right and came to rest upon a rectangular stone structure.  That would be the sarcophagus itself, Janice thought.  She could barely discern something on top of the lid which appeared metallic, but couldn’t make it out in the dim beam of the light. 

     Janice clicked the light off and straightened up from the hole.  She stood silently for a moment, apparently lost in thought, then became dimly aware that no one was speaking or moving.  All eyes were on her, all faces reflecting question.  She felt a broad grin creep across her face.  “Come on, you guys.  What’re you waiting for?  Let’s get our butts in gear and get this door cleared out!” Janice hollered, and a unanimous hurrah arose from all the students present.  They set to work with a vengeance, pulling rectangular stones from the door and stacking them up in order across the path from the tomb.  In no time, the door was completely clear. 

     The lights had arrived from the other tombs, and Janice called instruction to start the generator.  She heard the motor cough a few times and then sputter into action.  The light in her hands flickered, then shone brightly.  She looked about her until her eyes lit upon Sallie.   “Grab that other light, Sallie, and come with me.  You found this thing.  You get the honors.”  Sallie’s eyes sparkled through the dirt and sweat on her face as she grasped the second light.  The two women knelt down and shone their lights forward into the tomb as they slowly crept inside.  “Watch your step and go slowly,” Janice instructed.  “This is the first time in two thousand years anyone has been in here.”  Sallie stuck by Janice’s elbow as they scanned the interior of the tomb with their lights and crept forward. Once inside, they found the interior ceiling high enough that they could stand up.  They extended the tripod stands on the lights and placed them on the floor.  The lights afforded both women a much clearer inspection of the tomb.  The mural wall was now well lit, and it was a breathtaking sight.  The colors were still bright and vibrant.  The quality of the artist’s work was impressive.  The mural consisted of a fair amount of Greek script, dotted with large pictures of figures in action.  Two women were depicted in various scenes of heroics.  In the center of the mural was a large portrait, perhaps four feet tall, of these same two figures.  Janice moved closer and studied the pictures for several moments, then turned and looked at Sallie, who stood transfixed by the sight.  “Sallie,” Jan said softly, “Meet Xena and Gabrielle.” 

     “Doctor Covington, this is fantastic.  This is more than anything I ever expected.”  A tear ran down her face, and Sallie quickly wiped it off with a dusty hand.  “I’m sorry for getting so emotional, but this is incredible.  I’ve never done anything this exciting before.  God, what a feeling.  Do you ever get used to this?”

     Janice just smiled.  “Sallie, this is what archeologists live for.  This is the incredible intoxication that keeps us grubbin’ in the damn dirt.  We never forget it.  Now, let’s get crackin’ here.  Enough stalling.  Don’t touch anything yet.  We gotta document everything just as it is.”  Janice went to the tomb door and called out to the students huddled around the entrance.  “Get that camera in here.  Bring the flash.  I want pictures of everything.  And you.”  She pointed at one of the students.  “You know who Melinda Pappas is?”  The student nodded.  “Go up to the tents and tell her that we’ve got some Greek that needs to be translated, pronto.”  The student nodded and took off at a run.  Janice stood and turned her attention to the rest of the tomb.  A few pottery jars sat against the wall.  The sarcophagus occupied the center of the room.  She approached it and the metallic objects atop the lid became clear.  They were weapons, two knifelike instruments and a large, ornate circular weapon with a sharp edge.  As she studied them, Sallie’s voice pulled her attention away from the weapons.

     “Doctor Covington?  This face.  It looks just like you.”

     “Huh?”  Janice turned to look at the mural again.  Sallie was pointing to the shorter of the two figures depicted in the mural.  Janice stepped forward to study the figures again and felt an almost electric shock run through her.  She was looking into her own face.  The figure’s eyes looked straight out at her from the painting, a haunting, mesmerizing gaze.   Good God, I’m looking into a mirror, Janice thought. 

     Sallie’s voice echoed softly in the room again.  “And this one looks like your friend, Miss Pappas.”  Janice’s eyes shifted to the taller of the two painted figures and her jaw dropped.  It was the spitting image of Melinda.  Same hair, same eyes, same--- everything.  Janice and Sallie turned their heads towards each other and locked eyes.  For a moment, neither of them said anything.  Janice could see the questions in Sallie’s face. 

     “I can’t explain it.”  Was all that Janice could say.  “This is getting weird.”  Finally, Janice broke away from the mural and strode to the door .  She crouched down and shouted out to the others, “Goddamn it, where is that camera?  And, where’s Melinda?”  The graduate student with the camera began crawling in through the door, his arms loaded with equipment.

     “She’s on her way, Doctor Covington.  Where do you want me to start?”  He stood erect in the tomb, and his eyes widened.  “Wow,” was the only thing that he could say. 

     “Start with the mural.  Get it all.  Get everything, sweeping from left to right.  Take your time, don’t skimp on the film, and make ‘em as perfect as you can.  You got both print and slide film?  Good.  Shoot it all.  Don’t miss a thing.”  She gave him a friendly slap on the back, then continued,  “You got enough light?”  The student fished a light-meter out of his pocket, held it aloft, and nodded. 

     “I should have, with the flash.”

     “Great.  Get to work.  As soon as you finish, go develop the prints.  Can you print ‘em big?”

     “Got plenty of eight by ten paper, Doctor Covington.”

     “Good.  Knock yourself out.  Hey, Sallie, let’s get out of here for a bit and let Al do his job, eh?”

     Melinda sat at the outside table where people took their meals, finishing her tea and enjoyng the warm noon sun.  She had heard the cheering and clapping from the bluff, and when the generator began popping and sputtering, she knew that Janice had opened the tomb and was probably now inside.  As much as she wanted to join them, she willed herself to sit still and wait.  There wasn’t much she could do right now.  That was Janice’s element, not hers.

     She looked up as footsteps approached and a voice hailed her.  It was one of the students.  “Miss Pappas,” he said breathlessly, “Doctor Covington needs you down at the tomb.  She says there’s Greek to be translated in there.”

     Melinda leapt from her seat. Yes, finally.  As she accompanied the student back towards the bluff, she made conversation.  “So you all have opened it?”

     “Yup.  Doctor Covington and Sallie are inside now.”

     “Have you seen it?”

     “No.  They’re the only two so far.  We have to photograph and catalogue everything before we touch stuff.  Say, can I ask you a question?”  Melinda nodded.  “Doctor Covington is pretty good at Greek, but she asked for you.  Is that your expertise?”

     “Well, yes.  She seems to trust mah translations more than her own.  Mah father was an archaeologist, and ah began learning Greek at an early age.”

     “THE Doctor Pappas?  I know him.  I took some courses from him at Duke, before the war.  How is he?”

     “Ah’m afraid he died a few years ago.” 

     “Oh.  I’m sorry, Miss Pappas.  I really liked him.”

     “That’s quite alright, dear.  And please, call me Melinda.”

     “He had done some research on the Xena legends with Doctor Covington’s father, hadn’t he?”

     “Why, yes, he had.  It does seem to run in the family.”

     “Your families were about the only people who actually believed that Xena and Gabrielle were not myth.  I must confess, up until now I always thought they were myth, too.  But,” he added with a grin, “I think I’m about to become a big believer.”

     They rounded the corner of the bluff and encountered a small crowd of people standing at the open tomb door.  Large blocks stood stacked against the bluff wall, and the crowd was talking animatedly.  At the center of the gathering stood Janice, dirty, beaming, and puffing on her small cigar.  Sallie stood next to her, equally dirty, equally beaming, and seemingly the object of newfound respect from the other students.  Janice’s face crinkled into a large, toothy grin as she saw Melinda.  “Hey, Mel.  Got some work for ya.”

     “So ah hear.  My, you all look positively filthy.  And, ah might add, very happy.”

     “It’s fabulous, Mel.  In exquisite condition. We’ll go in as soon as Al gets finished photographing everything.”  Janice bent down at the door.  “Hey, Al.  How’s it going?”  A muffled affirmative response came from inside the tomb.  As Janice straightened up, she heard Sallie speaking with Melinda. 

     “Miss Pappas, uh, Melinda?”

     “Yes, dear?”

     “ This inscription over the door.  Can you translate it for us?”

     Melinda read the inscription out loud, in English.  As she finished, Sallie spoke again. “Maybe it’s nothing, but the wording strikes me as odd, doesn’t it you?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Well, I always understood that Xena was the major person in the legends, but the way this is written, it seems to name Gabrielle first.  Xena is mentioned only as an afterthought.”

     Melinda studied the inscription again.  “Why, yes, you’re quite right.  That’s certainly the way ah read it.  Isn’t that odd?”  Janice, having overheard the conversation, looked at the inscription for a moment and then spoke. 

     “Jesus.  I never noticed that.  I wonder why?  Man, I’m racking up more unanswered questions here than I can handle.  Well, maybe the script inside will fill us in.  Is Al going to take all day?  Damn, I know I told him to take his time, but we need to get back in there.  Got shit to do, y'know?”

     Melinda attempted to sooth Janice’s impatience.  “Now, Jan, they’ve been here for two thousand years.  They’ll wait for you a bit more.  Let the lad work, and relax.”  Nervous laughter erupted from the surrounding students as they saw their precocious boss gently chastised.  Janice, gently subdued, just shot a sheepish grin at Melinda and said nothing else.

     After what seemed an eternity, Al crawled from the tomb, camera bags in hand.  “Okay, Doctor Covington, I’ve shot everything.  Have the prints for you in a couple of hours.”

     Janice waved to Melinda.  “C’mon, Mel, time for you to read.  Sallie, you’re with us.  Where’s the team that’s going to sketch and document?”  Several of the students waved their hands.  “Let’s go, guys.”  Janice led the group into the tomb, crouching as they entered. 

     As the band stood up inside the tomb, they went to work with hushed voices and determined precision, tagging, sketching, and documenting the location of every loose item in the room.  Janice and Sallie led Melinda to the mural.  Melinda softly whistled as she perused the magnificent murals.  “Good Lord, Janice, there’s a lot here.  Why, it appears to be a---- history?  No, it's more of a testimonial towards them.  A eulogy, perhaps.  Why, yes, that’s it.  A eulogy.”  Melinda slowly scanned the murals and stopped dead in her tracks at the large portraits of the two women in the center of the wall.  “This is what they looked like?”

     “It’s reasonable to assume that it was painted shortly after their deaths.”

     “It is simply breathtaking, Jan.  So lifelike.  So---”

     “Familiar?”  Janice finished Mel's sentence for her and then pointed to the two faces.  Melinda stared at the portraits, and then at Janice.  “Yeah, I know.  Don’t say it.  It’s giving me the creeps.  We need answers here.  Let’s start reading.  Where do you want to start?”

     “Ah’ll start here.  This looks like the beginning.”  Mel scanned the script, keeping place with her finger and slowly progressing, often hesitating until she chose just the right word.  She described their humble origins, their early lives, their steadfast friendship and their known accomplishments.  The stuff jived perfectly with what was known of the existing Xena scrolls.  Several of the students paused occasionally in their work to listen as Melinda’s soft southern drawl gave life to the ancient words.  Finally, Janice, who had been standing silently and listening, touched Melinda on the shoulder. 

     “Mel, the students have done everything they could here today.  Let’s knock off and get back up the hill.  C’mon.”

     Melinda nodded, relieved to be given a respite.  She looked around the room and realized that they were the only two left inside.  As they were about to crouch down and exit the tomb, Melinda stopped Janice with a hand on her forearm.  “Jan?”

     “Huh?”

     “Are they in there?”  She pointed at the sarcophagus.

     “Yeah.”

     “Are you going to open that?”

     “Yeah.  Tomorrow.  Why?”

     “Must you?”

     “Sure.  Gotta examine the remains, Mel.”

     “You’ll be--- quite careful with them?”

     Janice studied Melinda’s face.  She looked deeply concerned, and even sad.  “Yeah.  I’ll be careful with them.  It’s strange, but they’re like family to me, after all these years.”

     “It’s not strange at all, Jan.  You have always believed in them.  What is strange is that ah somehow feel as though ah’ve---no, we’ve--- come home.”

     “I was just thinking the same, Mel.  There’s a sense of peace in here that I haven’t felt in any other tomb.”  Janice snaked her arm around Melinda’s waist and gave her a squeeze.  “Now let’s get out of here before you start getting really weird on me.”

      Melinda gave Janice a playful push towards the tomb door. “Janice Covington, have you ever been serious in your entire life?”  They were both laughing as they exited the tomb and emerged into the late afternoon sun.  As they walked up the path toward the tents, a couple of the students placed a canvas tarp over the tomb entrance.  Janice scanned the bustle of activity in front of her with satisfaction.  Oh, yeah, she thought.  This is a good dig.  A happy dig.  My dig.  She felt her chest swell a bit with pride and thought to herself, Oh yeah.  Dad would have been proud of me today. 

     And, somewhere deep in her soul, she felt an affirmative reply.

Chapter Seven.

The dig, later that afternoon.

     Mack was sitting at the meal tables, listening to the excited chatter of the students as they ate and discussed the day’s events.  He sipped a cup of coffee and cast an eye about for Sallie.  She must be at the shower, he thought.  Doesn’t like to eat when she’s filthy, and she probably got that way today trying to keep up with Jan.  He constructed a mental image of the scene and chuckled a bit at the whirlwind of activity that Janice must have been.  His ruminations were interrupted by Janice’s voice.

     “Hey, stranger, mind if we join you?”

     Mack looked up to see Janice and Melinda approach with their trays of food.  “Naw, come on.  Glad to see you.  Wondered how things went today.”  The two women placed their trays on the table across from him, and sat down. 

     “Incredible, Mack.  We got inside.  It’s magnificent.  Very little deterioration.”

     Melinda added,  “We got some wonderful photographs.  Just developed.  Would you care to see them?”

     “Would I?  Absolutely.  Hand ‘em over.”  Mack began to peruse a couple of the photographs and whistled softly.  “Neat stuff.  Can’t wait to see it myself.”

     Janice spoke this time.  “Well, come on down, tomorrow morning.  We’re gonna remove the artifacts inside and open the sarcophagus.”

     Mack suddenly shivered slightly as the vision from the night before swept through his mind.  Should he mention it?  He looked at the two women and decided not to.  They probably wouldn’t believe him, anyway.  He glanced again at the photograph, then back at Janice’s face.  Of course!  MacKenzie, you idiot, that was it!  Mack began laughing out loud and pointed a finger at Janice from across the table.  “I gotta hand it to you, Covington.  That was one hell of a practical joke you pulled on me last night.  You sure got me back for all that shit I did to you in college!”

     Janice blinked at Mack.  “What are you talking about?”

     “Oh, come on.  That was great.  I don’t know how you did it, but you scared the crap out of me.  I nearly peed my pants.”

     “What?”  Janice and Melinda exchanged glances.  Melinda shot Janice an accusatory look and Janice shrugged her shoulders.

     Mack persisted, “You know.  The get-up and the glowing stuff.  The weird Greek accent.  ‘Beware the God of War.’ All that.  How did you do that?”

     “Mack, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.  I was in my tent all night last night.”

     “Come on, Jan.  It was you.  I saw your face.”

     Janice became slightly exasperated.  “Mack,” she repeated, “I did not leave my tent last night.”

     Mack stopped smiling as he looked at Janice’s expression.  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

     Janice nodded.  Mack then turned his gaze towards Melinda, who agreed,  “She’s right, Mack.  She was in the tent all night.”

     Mack suddenly felt very cold.  He glanced down at his coffee and rubbed one hand through his hair.

     “What the hell is this all about, Mack?”

     Mack took a deep breath, exhaled, and leaned forward across the table to the two women, who were casting each other puzzled looks.  Here goes nothing, he thought.  “Can I tell you two something in confidence?”  Both women nodded and bent forward to listen.  Mack then slowly, carefully, haltingly, began to describe his experience from the night before.  Both Janice and Melinda listened carefully.  When Mack finished, nobody said anything for a moment.  They just stared at each other.  Finally, Melinda broke the silence.

     “Mack, would you please describe the clothing, the appearance, of whomever you saw?”

    “Yeah, sure.  Woman, short light colored hair.  Had a short skirt on, kinda brownish, and boots which reached almost to her knees.  Had big silver-looking bracelets on each wrist.  And, she carried a long staff.”

     “And she had Janice’s face?”

     “Yeah.  Spittin’ image.”

     Melinda shuffled through the photographs, then slid one across the table to Mack.

“Did she look like that?”  Melinda pointed to the shorter of the two figures depicted in the photograph of the tomb mural.

     Mack literally felt all the color drain from his face.  Melinda observed his ashen look and chuckled softly.  “Why, Mack MacKenzie,” Melinda drawled.  “Ah would say that you look as though you’d seen a ghost.”

      Mack picked up his coffee cup with a shaking hand.  “Holy Mother of God!”

     “No, Mack.   Gabrielle,” Janice responded.

      Mack looked at Janice and Melinda, each in turn, and then said, “Then you don’t think I’m crazy?”

     “No, ah don’t think so, Mack.  We southerners have a long tradition of believing in ghosts.  It’s very possible that that’s exactly what you saw last night.”

     Janice waved her hand and said, “Look, let’s go at this logically.  Now, Mack, you have not been inside the tomb, right?”  Mack nodded.  “So, there’s no way that you could have seen these paintings before now, right?”  Mack nodded again.  “Yet you described Gabrielle to a “T”, down to her jewelry and boots.  How did you do that?” 

     Mack shrugged his shoulders.  “Logically, I couldn’t have.”

     “Right.  There’s no way.  Which means that, logically, it is reasonable to assume that you did see a ghost.”

     “Then you believe me?”

     Janice continued.   “Mack, we’ve known each other for a long time.  You’re not a nut.  You’re a rational guy.  Now, I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in my life and nothing much surprises me anymore.  To me, the evidence indicates that you saw what you describe.”

     “Jan, do you recall ever having this happen before when you opened a tomb?”

     Janice considered the question for a moment.  “Nope.”

     “Well, then, why now?  Why here?”

     Melinda, who had been listening to the conversation, interceded.  “Mack, you said that she spoke to you.  What was it again that she said?”

     “Well, first, she told me to forget the war.”

     “Has your experience in the war been bothering you, Mack?”

     “Well, yeah, to tell the truth.  I still get nightmares all the time, stuff like that.  Cold sweats.  Bad memories.  Don’t sleep well.  Haven’t, in a couple of years.”

     “Was that what you were thinking of when she appeared?”

     “Yeah, it was.  Just invades my mind sometimes.  Can’t stop it.”

     “That was when she touched you?”

     “Right.  And, when she did, I was literally overwhelmed with emotion.”

     “So, how did you sleep this morning?”

     Mack thought for a moment.  “Like a baby.  Yeah, I slept great.  Say, you don’t suppose---”

     Janice and Melinda each cocked an eyebrow at Mack in unison, as if to say, ‘What do YOU think?’  Then Melinda continued.  “Then what did she say?”

     “She said for me to listen to her.   And then, she told me that we were good people who had come to honor their memories.”

     “What next?”

     “Well, she gave me the warning about the God of War, and there was something strange about that, now that I think about it.  When I was about to name the Greek God of War, she stopped me.  Told me not to say his name.”

     Janice spoke now.  “That could be the product of ancient Greek religious belief.  That culture was very superstitious.  They believed that the gods could hear their names called.  What else did she say?”

     “That was when she said that she had to leave.  Wait, here’s something else that’s strange.  She mentioned that the moon was low, almost as if she could only be there if the moon were up or something.  Then she repeated the warning and disappeared.”

     They sat silently at the table for several minutes, each of them lost in their own thoughts.  Finally, Janice broke the silence.  “I don’t know about you two, but I have no friggin’ idea of what to make of this.  Do you, Mel?”

     “Me neither.  Ah am at a loss here.  Mack?”

     “Hey, don’t look at me.  I’m new at this spook stuff.  All I know is, I don’t wanna go down there again tonight.”

     “Which brings us to another problem,” Janice said.  “The tomb is now open and there’s still stuff inside.  We’ve had a whole day for word to get out about this.  We have locals working in the kitchen.  If anyone is going to try to steal something, tonight’s the night to try.  There’s good money in the black market for this kind of stuff.  I hate to ask this of you, Mack, but I need you down there again tonight.  Look, I’ll go down there with you.  You won’t be alone.  I’ll be by your side the whole time.  You don’t mind, do ya, Mel?”

     “Of course not, Jan.  In fact, ah think ah should be there, too.”

     “No, Mel.  Could be dangerous.”

     “Jan, Mack said she spoke in Greek.  Mah Greek is fluent, while yours and Mack’s is conversational.  Ah can be a great help if she reappears tonight.”

     Mack started.  “Do you think she will?”

     Janice shrugged.  “Who knows?  Will you go, Mack?”

     Mack sighed.  “Yeah, I’ll go.  I’ll be okay.”

     Janice nodded approvingly.  “Good.  That’s the spirit.  I’ll come get you at dusk.  Bring your gun.”

     Mack nodded and rose to leave.  “See you then.”  He cast the remnants of his coffee on the ground as he walked away and dropped the cup in the barrel of soapy dish water as he passed by it on the way toward his tent. 

     On the way, he encountered Sallie.  She had been to the shower tent and her dark hair was still damp from the bath.  Mack’s face creased in a broad grin as he greeted her.  “Hey, good-lookin’.  Goin’ my way?”

     Sallie’s eyes twinkled in reply.  “You betcha, mister.”  She took hold of Mack’s arm and they walked together. 

     “Aren’t you worried that someone will see us?” Mack teased.

     “I don’t care.  I miss you.  We haven’t been able to steal any time together lately,” Sallie said.

     “Well, whatcha doing right now?”

     “Walking to your tent with you?”

     “Sounds like a plan to me.”  They continued, talking and laughing, until they entered Mack’s tent.  He pulled the flap down and they embraced and shared a long kiss.

     “Wow,” Mack said, as they finally drew apart slightly.  “Where have you been all my life?”

     “Lookin’ for you.”

     “Well, now that you’ve found me, what are you gonna do about it?”

     “Give me half an hour, and I’ll show you.”  With that, she kissed Mack again, and they sank down onto Mack’s cot, still in an intoxicating embrace.

     Janice and Melinda entered their tent, and Janice dropped her hat on the edge of the cot.  Melinda spoke first.  “Jan, if you really don’t want me down there tonight, ah’ll understand.  Ah won’t like it, but ah’ll understand.”

     “Mel, it could be dangerous.  If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”  Jan then turned and placed her hands gently on Melinda’s shoulders.  “I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.  Or worse.”

     Melinda’s eyes grew warm.  “Janice Covington, are you tryin’ to say that you love me as much as ah love you?”

     Janice smiled and allowed herself to be drawn into Melinda’s gaze.  “That, and more.  You’re a part of me.  No one else has ever been where you’ve been.  Here.”  Janice touched her own chest, over her heart.  “I don’t know how you did it, but you did.  It’s almost as if---”

     Melinda finished her thought.  “---as if we’d always been together.”

     “Yeah.  That’s it, exactly.  When we make love, I feel as if our souls touch.  It never gets old, Mel.  It never will.”

     “Jan?”

     “Huh?”

     “You win, you smooth talker.  Ah stay here.  Now shut up and seduce me.” 

     And Janice did exactly that.

Chapter Eight.

Dusk.

     Janice approached Mack’s tent and called his name.  After a moment, she heard Mack’s voice respond,  “Hey, come on in.”  Janice entered the tent to see Mack lacing up his boot.

     “Ready?”

     Mack looked up.  “Yeah.”  He picked up his pistol belt, strapped it on, grabbed his hat and flashlight, and walked to the front tent flap. Janice was standing in the center of the tent, holding her worn leather jacket.  She also had a pistol strapped to her right hip and carried a canteen.  As she turned to follow Mack out of the tent, she suddenly flashed an impish smile,  leaned over towards his cot and gave a playful spank to a lump under the tangle of blankets.

     “Get some sleep, will ya, Sallie?” Janice teased.   “We’re gonna be busy tomorrow.”  A low groan came from the blankets.   They began to move, then sit up.  The blanket fell away to reveal Sallie’s unruly hair,  large brown eyes, and a bare shoulder. 

     “Doctor Covington.  Oh, my God.  I am so embarrassed.”

     “For what?  Being human?  Relax.  I’m your professor, not your mother.  By the way, you did one helluva job today.  Keep up the good work.”

     “Er---thanks, Doctor Covington.  It was a blast, wasn’t it?”

     As Janice turned to leave, she shot back a grin over her shoulder.  “Yeah.  See you in the morning.”

     Mack and Janice walked down the path towards the bluff, Janice chuckling to herself and Mack in an embarrassed silence.  Finally, Mack muttered,  “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

     “Aw, come on, Mack.  Don’t worry about it.  She's a good gal.  I'm just glad it's you that she's with.”

     “Then you’re not upset?”

     “Nah.  You’re not her professor.  I am.  Its only unethical if I sleep with her, damn it.”

     “I’m sure glad you changed your mind about Sallie, Jan.”

     “Me, too.  Have to admit I was really wrong about her.  She’s one okay gal.  Gonna make a good archaeologist.  You should have seen her today, Mack.  You’d have been proud of her.”

   &nbs