Podcasts about Mycenaean

Episode 549 - J Susanne Wilson - Ancient Civilizations, Greek Myth Retelling, Trojan WarI am a historical fiction writer focusing on myths set in Bronze Age Greece. I earned my B.A. in Ancient Civilizations with a minor in Classical Languages from the University of Iowa. My concentration was on Greek and Roman art, religion, history, and languages. My debut novel, The Death and Life of Iphigenia, was short-listed for the 2024 Novel London Literary Prize and was published in 2025.THE DEATH AND LIFE OF IPHIGENIASONGS AND LIES, BOOK 1 - Iphigenia's true story lies beneath the songs of the bards and the whispers of MusesAs Greek warriors prepare for the Trojan War, Mycenaean princess Iphigenia is forced to endure the demands of angry gods and desperate kings. Separated from her mother and sister, exiled to an oppressive foreign land, she is bound by sacred duty to perform grim rituals that stain her hands and haunt her dreams.Finally, after fourteen long years, she discovers an opportunity to escape and must decide if her longed-for home and stolen life are still worth fighting for.This is a tale of survival, identity, and the eternal quest for belonging.https://www.jsusannewilson.com/Support the show___https://livingthenextchapter.com/podcast produced by: https://truemediasolutions.ca/Coffee Refills are always appreciated, refill Dave's cup here, and thanks!https://buymeacoffee.com/truemediaca

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Odd Happenings{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab."Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose."Sibeal.""Imogen.""Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said."Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back."How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way."Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'."So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved."I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable."Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact."Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well."I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded."Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?""Come home with me," she suggested."No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland."No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you.""Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me.""We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you.""Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?""Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever."Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered."We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom."We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all."What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared."Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped."Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?""Yes," Deidre replied to Mom."Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind."The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa."So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat."Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?""Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well."No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again.""We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested."How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe.""Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin.""That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try."Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm."No reason," I lied."Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her.""No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff.""You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around."For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is.""That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest."Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.{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 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 cunt 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."Hmm, 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: WarningsArticle 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' tat, 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.'F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. 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 U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:The U.S.A: 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 U.N.: 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 Awbee, 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?Kawano: Which time?Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.Prime Minister: 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?Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.Prime Minister: 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.Kawano: 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 Awbee, 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?Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.Awbee 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?Yachi: 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.Awbee: What have you been doing?Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.Awbee: '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?Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.AS: What!Yachi: 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?AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?Yachi: 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.AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.Yachi: 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  Prime Minister 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 a

In this week's episode, I take a look at some of the historical influences & inspirations that went into my new book GHOST IN THE ASSEMBLY. This coupon code will get you 25% off SILENT ORDER: OMNIBUS ONE at my Payhip store: SILENT25 The coupon code is valid through April 7th, 2025. So if you need a new book to read for spring, we've got you covered! TRANSCRIPT 00:00:00 Introduction and Writing Updates   Hello, everyone. Welcome to Episode 244 of The Pulp Writer Show. My name is Jonathan Moeller. Today is March 21st, 2025, and today we are looking at some of the historical influences that went into Ghost in the Assembly. Before we get into that, we will do Coupon of the Week and an update my current writing and audiobook projects. And then Question of the Week, which we did have time for this week.   This week's coupon code will get you 25% off the ebook of Silent Order: Omnibus One at my Payhip store. That coupon code is SILENT25. I'll have the links and the coupon code in the show notes. This coupon code is valid through April 7, 2025, so if you need a new book to read for these spring months, we have got you covered.   Now an update on my current writing projects. I am 44,000 words into Shield of Battle, the fifth book in the Shield War series. I'm hoping to have that out towards the end of April, if all goes well. A reminder that the Shield War series will be six books, so Shield the Battle will be the second to last one. I have also started on the sequel to Ghost in the Assembly, and I am 4,000 words into that, give or take. I had originally planned to call this book Ghost in the Assassins, but I thought that sounded too similar to Ghost in the Assembly. So the fifth book in the Ghost Armor series will be called Ghost in the Corruption. A reminder that Ghost Armor will be six books long and Ghost in the Corruption will be the fifth of six books, so the second to last book in that series as well.   In audio news, recording has started for Shield of Deception and Ghost in the Assembly. Shield of Deception will be excellently narrated by Brad Wills and Hollis McCarthy will excellently narrate Ghost in the Assembly. I expect both of them will probably be out sometime towards the end of May if all goes well, given how long it usually takes to record an audiobook.   In Stealth and Spells Online news, I am 68,000 words into the third and final book in this trilogy. Once Ghost Armor and Shield War are complete, then I will hopefully release the final book in the Stealth and Spells Online because I've been working on that as a tertiary project for quite a long time now. So that's where I'm at with my current writing and audiobook projects.   00:02:17 Question of the Week   Now let's move on to Question of the Week. Question of the Week is of course designed to inspire enjoyable discussions of interesting topics. This week's question, what is your favorite style of fantasy setting (like a more high fantasy, one like Middle Earth or the Forgotten Realms, urban fantasy like the Dresden Files or Kate Daniels or more steampunk like Everon and so on)? No wrong answers, obviously.   And as you can imagine this inspired quite a few responses.   Perry says: Hyperborea! Lankhmar is up there as well. Setting where magic is rare, and usually dangerous or evil. The first edition of the Forgotten Realms (the grey box from the ‘80s) was great. Enough detail to let you use the setting, lots of room to make it your own. Then all the Forgotten Realms novels started to appear with the release of the second edition in the ‘90s and everybody in the world suddenly had powerful magic at their fingertips. Elminster, the Seven Sisters, Drizz't, and others took the appeal right out of the setting for me.   Joachim says: I like the Spelljammer Campaign setting best. A lot of great modules. It seemed it was not overly successful. A shame. I had a campaign running in this setting with some people who liked it. In addition to the Spelljammer modules, you can easily transfer any normal module centered on a small town onto an asteroid.   Evan says: A huge Sanderson Cosmere fan here, especially Stormlight Archive. I like the magical progression tied in to character development, with a bit of mystery of how things work or an unknown that takes time to unwind or tease out.   Justin says: My problem here is separating the settings from the authors. Given that near impossibility, I would cast my vote for high fantasy with a bit of techno/steampunk mixed in. Example – Andre Norton's Witch World.   Bonnie says: I seem to gravitate towards the swords and sorcery genre like Frostborn, but I also enjoyed the urban fantasy/Nadia and the other genres. I have to thank you for introducing me to all of these.   Michael says: Okay, Jonathan, that's the second time I've noticed you indicating a preference for sword and sorcery saga where a barbarian hero travels between corrupt city states and now I really, really want you to write this. And yeah, that's definitely my favorite type of setting too.   Simone says: Definitely urban fantasy. Even in your books, which offer an unusual variety of fantasy settings, I find I enjoy the Cloak series the best.   Roger says: Being an old fogey, I prefer high fantasy always. Can't seem to get my head around urban fantasy. It jars with me.   John says: While I enjoy all settings, I'm also a traditionalist and want a non-industrial, non punk setting without some sprawling empire, more like the aftermath of empire with multiple successor states.   Jonathan T. says: Personally, Star Wars has always been fantasy in a science fiction setting, and that remains a personal favorite. Other than that, I suppose I'm for high fantasy, although I'm not opposed to high fantasy slapstick either such as the Wuntvor trilogy. At some point I must try again to surmount the obstacle known as The Wheel of Time.   Catriona says: Epic and high fantasy are my favorite, enjoy Dark Fantasy, too. Urban fantasy is a hard pass for me.   Juana says: Sword and sorcery, parfait gentle knights, medieval societies, historical fiction like Doyle's The White Company and Sir Nigel. Wherever Nadia lives.   Justin says: Sword and sorcery, magical creatures/beasts. Definitely needs different environments like cities and wild mountains and forests. Not sure what genre that is, but that's what I like.   MG says: High fantasy.   Brandy says: I like ones with a clearly defined map. Sometimes it seems like the world wasn't thought about clearly, so it makes it hard to imagine and I find those stories the least successful. The ones I go back to repeatedly, the ones I read over and over or pimp out to other authors or groups are those I feel like they have a great structure and map, even if it's added on to later. So high, low, or middle, I just really just want the author to tell a great story and make it a great one.   Speaking as an author myself, I really dislike drawing maps, but fantasy readers really like maps, so that's why I have been doing more and more maps lately.   Pauline says: Urban fantasy is definitely my favorite.   Jeremy says: High Fantasy is my favorite. However, my favorite fantasy author is Terry Brooks. His series is Low Fantasy based on Earth. I found out years after reading the series LOL.   For myself, I think my favorite would be a pre-industrial setting with a lot of city-states and various dangerous magic, like you have a barbarian hero wandering from city-state to city-state with monster infested ruins and wilderness between them. When he gets to the city states, he can fight corrupt sorcerers, arrogant nobles, and thieves guilds, and then move on to a new adventure in the next book. So basically a sword and sorcery style setting. So that's it for Question of the Week.   00:06:30 Main Topic of the Week: Ghost in the Assembly: Inspirations and Sources (Note: Spoilers for Ghost in the Assembly!)   This week and now onto our main topic, Ghost in the Assembly inspirations and sources that went into the book. I should mention that this episode contains mild spoilers for Ghost in the Assembly. So if you have not finished reading Ghost in the Assembly yet, stop listening and go finish reading Ghost in the Assembly.   So I thought it would be interesting to talk about some of the ideas and influences that went into Ghost in the Assembly. I have to admit, it took me a few years of thinking between Ghost Night and Ghost Armor to figure out how to write more Caina stories because Caina had become a political figure by the end of Ghost Night and political figures typically do bad things for personal advancement and then lie about it. That is in some ways the essential definition of a political figure. This of course, is hard for a writer to use as a sympathetic protagonist.   Of course, I eventually realized the way around this, the success of a political figure cannot be judged by their personal morality or even their political morality, but by the results of their decisions. Did they do the most for the greatest good of their people? Therefore, I just needed to write a political figure who did somewhat sketchy things (like subverting the Kyracian houses via buying up their debt) in the name of the greater good of the people (defending them from the impending attack of the Red Krakens).   I frequently said that if you want to write a good fantasy novel, you should try to stick to about 15 to 25% of the actual harshness of the past. I don't think you want to go full Grimdark, but you don't want your fantasy world to be indistinguishable from a typical 21st century parliamentary democracy because I think that kind of defeats the purpose of fantasy where you want to visit a world that is eldritch and strange and at least somewhat different than our own. So for Ghost in the Assembly, I went to about 15 to 25% of the experience of ancient Greek democracy. For the entire time that New Kyre and the Kyracians have been in the series (Ghost in the Storm was way the heck back in 2012 and the Kyracians were mentioned before that), they've always been very loosely based on the democracy of ancient Athens. In fact, the very name Assembly of New Kyre comes from ancient Athens, where the gathering of voting citizens was called the ecclesia, which translates into English as assembly. Interestingly, this is also the origins of the word ecclesiastical in terms of a church since one of the first words for the church was ecclesia in the sense of the assembly of the believers in Christ.   Athens wasn't the first ancient Greek democracy, but it was one of the most successful. It was also one of the democracies that self-destructed in the most spectacularly dramatic fashion possible. The Athenians decided to convert the Delian League from an alliance of city-states into their own private empire. A demagogue convinced them to waste enormous resources attacking Syracuse and Sicily, which ended disastrously. The Athenians were eventually defeated by the more militaristic Spartans.   People have debated for centuries whether or not this means democracy is inferior to the Spartans' harsher system, but that overlooks the key fact that a few decades later, Athens, Sparta, and all the rest of the Greek city-states were conquered by the Macedonians anyway. I suppose the actual historical lesson is that a city-state, regardless of its government, is no match for a larger centralized state with better leaders and better military organization. In fact, historically city-states tend to eventually get subsumed into larger political entities. If they last for a long time, it tends to be because of geography (like in ancient Greece) or because of weak and or remote central authority like the medieval Italian city-states, which were ostensibly under the authority of the Holy Roman emperor but in practice tended to do whatever they wanted. Places like modern Vatican City tend to be special exceptions.   Caina's criticism of the assembly of New Kyre in the book is that it is not as egalitarian as it pretends and is easily swayed by both demagogues and bribes. The Athenian assembly of citizens had both these problems, but far worse. You needed to have a substantial level of property to be allowed to vote, and there were numerous examples of the votes swinging on bribes or last minute orations. The Athenian assembly was easily swayed into making bad decisions, such as supporting the disastrous attack on Syracuse during the Peloponnesian War that was the start of Athens' downfall.   In Ghost in the Assembly, Lady Eirenea Tritos is one of the nine chief magistrates of the city, but in an Athenian democracy, women were not allowed to vote and most definitely were not allowed to hold political office. The ancient Greeks in general did not have a very high opinion of women. One Greek orator said that men had wives to produce legitimate heirs, concubines to attend to the body's “daily needs”, and prostitutes for pleasure.   Because of things like that, I thought a setting with a hundred percent of the harshness of ancient Greece would be off-putting to the reader. So as I said, I shot for between 15 and 25% of the actual harshness. New Kyre is definitely richer, better governed, and less elitist and chauvinistic than the ancient Greeks. That said, New Kyre isn't an egalitarian place. Nobles have vastly more rights and money than commoners, and both nobles and commoners own slaves and only the poorest commoners own no slaves themselves. Indeed, slavery is so common in New Kyre that the other nobles see Kylon's decision that House Kardamnos will have no slaves as a sign of malevolent and sinister foreign influence.   Kalliope's fear that she could be dispossessed and Kylon simply take her children is very real. If Kylon wanted, he probably could keep Kalliope from seeing Nikarion and Zoe ever again, though that would inevitably put him in conflict with Lysikas Agramemnos and Calliope is charismatic enough to powerful allies to her side. If Kylon did in fact refuse to allow Kalliope to see their children, he might well set off a civil war. But Kylon, who lost both his parents when he was young, doesn't want to deprive his children of a loving mother.   Of course, the ancient Greeks never had to fight the Red Krakens and orcs. The Red Krakens, the Caphtori, are kind of written like snake-worshipping Vikings. In fact, Caphtori are inspired by the “Sea Peoples”, pirates that seem to have contributed to the collapse of Bronzes Age civilization. Historians argue endlessly about the impact of the Sea Peoples or whether they existed at all, but if they did exist, they might well have been proto-Ancient Greeks, perhaps Mycenaean in origin.   Since having one ancient Greek-esque group fighting another would've been confusing in the book, I made the Caphtori/Red Kraken more like Vikings, which I suppose is a bit of historical anachronism, but Ghost Armor is a constructed world with elves, orcs, and sorcerers, so it's not like I'm writing period accurate historical fiction here.   So these are some of the influences that went into Ghost in the Assembly. I don't have any grand concluding point here. Those were just some of the ideas I thought about and went into the story. Though I should mention that for a while I was a graduate student in medieval history and I hated the experience so much I left and went into IT instead. That said ,decades later it has proven a useful source of plot ideas for fantasy novels, so it worked out in the end.   One final note, a reader suggested that Kalliope Agramemnos and Mardun Scorneus might hook up in later books. And I have to admit, I laughed at that suggestion. Kalliope would react with dismay at the thought of marrying anyone other than an extremely high ranking Kyracian noble, and at the prospect of marrying Kalliope, Mardun would think about it, fake his death, and flee back to the Empire, preferring to take his chances with the Magisterium rather than Kalliope. Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read Ghost in the Assembly. I am very grateful that so many people have enjoyed the book.   So that is it for this week. Thank you for listening to The Pulp Writer Show. I hope you found the show useful. A reminder that you can listen to all back episodes of the show on https://thepulpwritershow.com. If you enjoyed the podcast, please leave your review on your podcasting platform of choice. Stay safe and stay healthy and see you all next week.  

After Romania, one night in Rome.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.When our ancestor committed the first murder, was it rage, or fear that drove them to the deed?(Evening near the Metropole, Roma, Italia)"I think you've done well," Riki congratulated me as she terminated her phone call. Word had come down that her replacement was on the way. Our profile had been updated back at State and they clearly wanted to bring in the 'real professionals'. There also had been a miscommunication. I was far too stressed to be reasonable now.Some undeserving smuck was about to be at the receiving end of my wrath for no better reason than I was at my limit of accepting any further alterations to my life. In hindsight, I was being totally irrational. At that moment in time, I didn't care whose day I was ruining. Sometimes I can be a jerk and an idiot at the same time.The US State Department apparently thought I couldn't dictate who was, or wasn't, a member of 'Unit L', we now had our own designation within Javiera's expanding task-force. The government had a random name generator for this shit and we got the letter 'L'. Maybe that device didn't think we were going to last long enough to matter. Anyway, I took the phone and hit redial. Riki gave me an 'I'm puzzled' look."Who am I talking to?" I inquired."Ms, who are you?" he demanded, since my caller ID said Riki and, unless I used my high, squeaky voice, I obviously sounded like a guy."I'm Cáel Nyilas. Who is this?" I replied."I'm Bill A. Miller, Director of the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service. What seems to be the problem, Mr. Nyilas?" He was rather uptight about the call-back."Since we are working together, why don't you call me Cáel?" I politely requested. "I'll call you Willy.""My name is Bill, but you can call me Director Miller," he corrected me. "The reason for your call is?""It is Willy, or Dick; your choice," I countered. "I don't call my boss 'Director' and I worship the ground she walks on. You are not even in her league. Also, I've had bad experiences with guys named Bill which are too painful to explain right now."That was true. One was friend taking a shower and leaving me alone with his mother. The other was early on in my career when I confused a girl named Bonnie with her real name 'Bill'. I was my own personal 'The Crying Game'. I didn't handle that episode well."Besides, I didn't call to discuss name-calling. I want to know how many agents work for you.""What does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled."You are quick with the questions while painfully bereft of answers," I snorted. "Don't make me Google this too.""Over two thousand," he stopped being a total ass. "Is there anything else I can tell you that Miss Martin should have been able to tell you?" Ooops, Back to being an ass."Riki's being physically restrained from taking her phone back by some of my educationally-challenged, illegal alien, unskilled labor force of questionable loyalty," I outrageously lied. It was an odious habit of mine that I'd cultivated vigorously over the past few weeks. "Two thousand humans, thanks. Is Riki's replacement a guy, or a girl? Wait, who cares? Just send their picture and I'll let you know where to send their replacement.""Are you threatening my people?" he simmered."No. That would make me an uncooperative and nefarious nuisance," I evaded. "Of course, when a person sticks their hand into a functioning garbage disposal, you don't blame the device. You blame the moron who stuck their hand in." From the perspective of our relationship, I was the garbage disposal."That definitely sounds like a threat," he responded. He was going to stick his hand in anyway."Your inability to comprehend the nuances possible with the English language is not why I called and not something I feel I can educate you about, given my current time constraints. Just have one of your insipid flunkies send me the picture. I need to purchase duct tape and an out-of-the-way storage space," I informed him."By the way, in the spirit of legal chicanery, could you tell me how long it will take for Riki Martin's name to come back up in the rotation? Let's figure 36 hours between each hot-shot leaving DC and their eventual inability to return phone calls," I wanted to make sure he knew I was taunting his pompous self. (Me being pompous and unhelpful didn't cross my mind at that moment.)"Let me make myself clear, Mr. Nyilas," he repeated. "Not only can you not dictate terms to the US government, you are not even the team's designated leader." I wasn't? Fuck him. I had tons of useless members of the Alphabet Mafia in front of my name, all loudly proclaiming my numerous accolades.Of everyone on the team, I had the most: NOHIO (Number One House Ishara Official), HCIESI-NDI, (Havenstone Commercial Investments Executive Services' Intern -- New Directive Initiative, I didn't make that one up, I swear), MEH (Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege) and UHAUL (Unpaid Honcho Assigned to Unit L). I liked that last one, so that was how I was going to sign off on all my reports now."First off, I AM in charge, Willy. Without me, there is no Unit L. I quit, and then what? In case you missed it, I can't be drafted or threatened by you. If you think you can replace me, please do so right now and let me get back to my life -- you know, the thing that actually puts money in my pocket.Besides, I am not refusing to take anyone you see fit to put on MY team. I'm just not going to tell you where I'm going to take them to. I suspect they are adults and can find their way home, eventually, Willy.""Mr. Nyilas, you are an unbelievably fortunate amateur and novice intellectual in a situation that demands experience and professionalism. It is time for you to step back and let the people who know what they are doing take over. Just play your part and we'll make sure you get due credit for following orders and behaving," he unleashed his fair-smelling bile."I am following your orders; your procedures dictate that a member of the State Department will be on this team," I kept my calm. "As one of the people who actually has experience with this situation, I'm letting you know how things work in the field. Every person you send will be misplaced, thus you will have to send someone else. Alerting you to the need to stay on top of your job -- sending someone else -- sounds to me like common sense advice in this circumstance.""That is not going to happen, Nyilas. If something happens, " he got out."Willy, duct tape is plentiful and cheap. Kidnapping -- thus hostage keeping -- is virtually a religion in Southern Italy. And though I am already wired into the local criminal underground, I'm just not going to be able to help you, or them. I'll make up some implausible excuses as the need arises. So now you know the score. The next move is yours," I smiled."The next words out of your mouth had better be 'I'll behave', or the State Department will revoke your passport and have stern words with the Republic of Ireland over your diplomatic status," Willy warned me."I'll behave," I fibbed. Riki snatched the phone out of my hand."Sir -- Director Miller, I want you to know I had nothing to do with Mr. Nyilas' tirade," Riki apologized. "He stole my phone.""I did." and "oww!" I hollered in the background. "She ground her heel into my instep. the fiery little minx." I was propping up her excuse because I owed her for verbally taking a dump on her boss, the ass-heap back in Romania. Riki punched me."Ms. Martin, do we need to reconsider your employment, or can we rely on you to re-organize Unit L before Ms. McCauley (her replacement) arrives?" Willy lectured."Director Miller, ""Call him Big Willy," I whispered to her. "He loves that 'Big Willy' style."This time she hit me in the thigh. My ballistic vest had gotten in the way of her first hit, but she was a quick learner."How can you know a song from 1997, yet not know that Russia invaded Georgia in 2008?" Riki put her hand over the phone and hissed at me."Ah," Pamela teased. "Somebody is a Will Smith fan." Riki looked away.I wasn't sure what to make of the Will Smith -- Ricky Martin combo forming in my mind. Will was one of my manly icons. Hey, he was a stud, scored numerous hotties in his film career and married Jada Pinkett Smith. What's not to love? Growing up, I wanted to be like Will Smith. When/if I ever finished growing up, I wanted to be like George Clooney."Director Miller," Riki tried again. "He's lying. From my personal observations and with supporting personality profiles provided by other members of the task force, I can guarantee you that Mr. Nyilas is unreliable and untrustworthy. Sir, I've watched Romani males hide their wallets and their daughters when he walks by." Okay, wasn't that last bit a lie?"that last bit a lie?es hide their wallets and their daughters when he walks by. provided by other members However, unless she has been cross-trained as a waitress at a gang-affiliated nightclub, a day-care worker for the criminally insane, plus consistently wins at Texas hold 'em, she's going to be out of her element here.""No sir, but Mr. Nyilas likes me, I'm not sure why," she glared at me. I poked her in the boob to help clarify the matter. Riki slapped my hand. Virginia punched me in the shoulder. I decided to poke Virginia in her ballistic-covered breast, hoping she was jealous for the attention. I was wrong. They both hit me again.Had this been sexual harassment, they would have hated this job and despised me. Since this was me being my painfully childish self, well, I was still annoying, but also adorable. Put it this way: if a woman could not only pepper spray a man making cat-calls at her, and was even encouraged to do so, wouldn't that de-stress the situation?"Director Miller, I don't want to stay on this assignment, yet I'd be remiss if I didn't explain some of the numerous pitfalls of working with Unit L. Every one of them is comfortable being a walking arsenal. I'm on my way to have a ballistic vest tailored for me because I'm the only one in the unit without one. I have no doubt that any of them could kill me with their bare hands in less than 5 seconds if they so desired," she explained."You would think they would want a more effective combatant with them," Miller grew icy, suspecting duplicity on Riki's part -- moron. She looked at me over the phone."Sir, I think they like me because I know I don't belong in a firefight. They can count on me to cower behind cover while the bullets are flying. That allows the rest to kill unimpeded by having to keep an eye on me," she said.Pause."One of them did show me how to recognize and start various grenades. She said if I was ever the last one alive, it would give me 'options'."Pause."Ms. Martin, don't cancel your flight back to DC yet. I'm going to give Ms. Castello a call to see what her assessment of the situation is," Willy allowed. "Good-bye.""I can't believe I talked him into making me stay with you people," Riki moaned.Our little caravan was slowing to a stop outside the Metropole Hotel. It was Hana's choice for a Roman meeting location. A restaurant and a hotel room, all in one location. Rachel and Wiesława were ahead of us, checking things out. Hana had informed us that the Illuminati had two people watching her. This was going to be my last bit of time with Rachel for a while.(Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch, )Two new members of House Ishara were on their way to Rome. They'd be joined by two members of the House Guard of Andraste from Britain. The two Isharans were the first members of the House Guard of Ishara in over a thousand years. I didn't expect them to be the martial equals of Rachel, or Charlotte. Not yet. And anyway, that didn't matter. What mattered to me was that they'd volunteered for the task and Buffy felt they were the best we had.Another nomadic pack of House Hylonome Amazons had taken in the traumatized Zola. She had to stay in Romanian until the authorities finished up her part of the investigation. A mixed group from House Živa and Ishara (led by Helena) would handle security for Professor Loma, his family and the Lovasz sisters during their trip to New York.Aliz, his wife, was officially in House Ishara's custody. That was my best play at making sure she avoided summary justice for her 'betrayal' of House Hylonome. The whole group would be handed over to House Epona as soon as the Romanians cleared them for foreign travel. It helped my case that Aliz appreciated my warnings about the danger that both families were in from House Illuyankamunus.The occult nitpicking that allowed me to leverage this maneuver was accomplished by me doing yet another rarely done feat. In the name of Alkonyka Lovasz, House Ishara was sponsoring a new Amazon house. I could testify to the existence and matronage of the Goddess SzélAnya (without her permission), which was one of the stepping stones for acceptance.Vincent was going to stay in Germany for two days, then he was off to his home and daughters in Arlington Virginia, with a long convalescence and a rumored promotion. Mona and Tiger Lily were already on their way to New York as honor guard for Charlotte's body, courtesy of the US Air Force. The Amazons needed the USAF to do it because that was the only way we could get the Romanians to release her body.The Hylonome dead, they would be buried in a private plot after all the autopsies were done. I was absolutely sure the Hylonome would steal the bodies in due time and give them a 'proper' burial. Of the Mycenaeans, Red and one of his buddies still remained at large. Of Ajax's half-brother, Teucer, and the other previously wounded Greek warrior, there was no sign. Kwen and the other POWs remained in Romania to face a laundry list of charges. Her fate was unknown to me.My bodyguard was reduced, yet no one minded. The twin reasoning was that the Black Hand in Italy would provide some protection for me. The other was that I was in the birthplace of the Condottieri. Selena's sources strongly suspected that their HQ was close to Rome itself. I could have had more security by recruiting among the 'natives'.Various sources, some inside Italy, had suggested that the Carabinieri, Italy's military police force, had 'offered' to provide some protection. That was prompted by events surrounding my visits to Budapest  and  Mindszent, Hungary and the 'action' south of Miercurea Ciuc, Romania (no one wanted to call it a battle, even though the fight involved over 1000 Romanian Land Forces troops and half a squadron of the Romanian Air Force).My refusal of the offer caused a 'disruption'. This was a polite way of saying the Italians did not want me to enter their country. I wasn't being a jerk this time. Selena and Aunt Briana were both of the opinion that the Condo's recruited heavily from European military and paramilitary units -- particularly Western Europe. And that not all their 'new hires' had left active duty either.A peculiar circumstance then developed. The pretext for denying me entry was undercut by Hungary and Romania erasing me from their official investigation. I wasn't a threat (despite the burnt landscape and tombstones sprouting up in my wake.) Romania didn't want me to stay, Hungary decided they didn't want me back -- at the moment -- and the US/UK/Ireland were telling the Italians that I was a peach, or whatever implied that in diplomatic speech.There was a compromise finally reached by Riki and shadow forces that I couldn't put names to. I could come to Italy as long as my itinerary was relayed to Carabinieri. We could keep our side arms in holsters and our big guns as long as they weren't on our persons. I could go around without a Carabinieri bodyguard as long as I ignored them floating around me at a discreet distance. A liaison officer would meet me at the hotel to maintain the illusion that I was just a paranoid tourist.Delilah had to touch base with the British again, probably for the same reasons that the US wanted to replace Riki. While both Delilah and Chaz were military and seconded to MI-6, they weren't considered Intelligence Experts by the people at the helm. For that matter, they weren't even sure how Delilah had ended up at my side, killing multi-national terrorists in three separate countries inside of one month. That was very cinematic, not realistic. The idea of governments with shadow operatives 'sanctioning' people was not something that anyone in the 'know' wanted to talk about.Whether it was before the media, a US Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, the United States House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, or a UK Parliamentary Foreign Affairs Select Committee this wasn't what these Department Heads wanted to discuss. Less anyone forget, my Congress and my President didn't, umm, get along.In my favor, I was an orphan from New Hampshire, both my US Senators were women and I'd worked on their campaigns or dated some of their volunteers. It might do me some good to call Dr. Kimberly Geisler at Bolingbrook to see what she could do politically. All that could wait.(Finishing Up)Selena Jovanović had the first of our two dark blue Alfa Romeo 159s, the one that disgorged Rachel and Wiesława. She, Saku and Odette would circle the block in case there was any trouble. Pamela had the driver's seat in my car. No one wanted me or Odette to drive because we didn't understand urban Italian street etiquette. It was Virginia, me and Riki in the backseat with Chaz up front with Pamela.Rachel gave the preliminary order to disembark. That meant the lobby was partially clear -- there were armed types about that seemed to be either Carabinieri, or understandable private security. Rome wasn't as dangerous as Mexico City (kidnap-wise), but events in London, Budapest and the Hungarian and Romanian countryside were putting people on edge. And those with enough money could buy some emotional comfort in the form of armed private contractors.Chaz took his H and K UMP-45, stock folded, out of the bag at his feet and secured it inside the right-side of his jacket. Three spare clips went inside a harness on his left. It was dreamlike as Virginia and I went through a similar, less heavily armed process. For FBI Girl, it was a 'carry-on' with flash-bang, concussion and smoke grenades, plus a few extra clips/mags for everyone.For me, it was a tomahawk, a second Gloc-22 and a bullet for everyone in the hotel, if that became necessary. As the car came to a stop in front of the main doors, I worked my way over Riki so that I would be the second person to exit the car. Chaz would be the first. Virginia got out on her side. Pamela would stay at the wheel -- Riki had an appointment with a tailor to keep.I felt it then, that sympathetic spiritual harmony I was one-third of. I looked up into the 'clear' Rome night. There she was, Bellatrix, the Amazon star in the Constellation of Orion. According to the Egyptian Rite, the Weave of Fate was nearly invisible by day, but by night, you could make out its strands in the motion of the stars. That was not something Alal had ever truly mastered. Still,I had a new phone since the charred remains of my old one were in some evidence locker in Budapest by now. That didn't mean I wanted to use it. I was getting squirrely about people I didn't want finding me, finding me. Chaz was in the lead, I was in the middle and Virginia covered my back. Rachel caught sight of us, gave a quick nod, and then she and Wiesława went for the elevators.Rachel would want to check out Hana's room before I got there -- if I got there. I called Odette."Hey Babe," Odette beamed excitement my way. She was in Rome and we had a guaranteed 24 hour layover. For a girl who thought her great adventure in life was going to end up being a high school trip to Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell, she was in Nirvana."Hey to you too, Odette. I need a favor," I began."Sure," she chirped."In five minutes from, right now make sure Sakuniyas comes to see me and Hana in the restaurant by herself," I requested. Odette hesitated, taking in her knowledge of 'Cáel-speak'."No problemo Jeffe," she answered. She knew I was in some undefined trouble. We both knew that her body language would convey that unease to Saku, which was what I needed. See, I had a plan. I tapped Chaz, slowing him and thus allowing Virginia to bunch up with us."Do either one of you remember the movie 

Putting lives back together after the battle.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Either you embrace Change and are destroyed by it, or you resist Change and are overwhelmed by it. What is your choice? (The Politics of 'Not' Being Dead)The rest of the trip was made in silence. They dropped us off at the edge of Miercurea Ciuc, home base of the 61st Mountain Troops Brigade, of Professor Loma and from whence all this craziness had originated. The meeting was already awkward before I arrived. It only got worse. Where to begin? Well, Russia, the United States, the UK, Romania, Hungary and Ireland were now all interested parties. And I had gained two personal distinctions:1.) Not only was I now heralded (and not really joking anymore) by some sources as Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege, I was thereby re-awakening old nationalistic and territorial fears. Hungary didn't want a Prince, yet they did have an anemic Monarchist party. I might not be a Hapsburg (the last royal house of Hungary), but I could possibly be misconstrued as a long-lost Árpád scion (first King and founder of the Hungarian state), which would be even better.A crisis was looming in my ancestral crucible. It seems I already had a webpage in Budapest and six hundred "friends" within 24 hours. Worse, they had some pictures of me. Besides being 'of regal bearing' in the descriptions, I was sexy-hot and a soldier of fortune, a modern day 'Wild Geese, (Goose?)' who was wanted for questioning in a, or perhaps multiple, murder(s) involving either a duel over a woman's honor or killing a dozen armed gangsters who prayed on young innocents newly arrived to the big city.I wasn't alone. My trusty companion was A.) an ascetic Jedi Mistress (my own, personal Yoda), B.) an ancient witch schooled in the necromantic arts (apparently the reason I couldn't die), or C.) a Cold-War Era SMERSH (too much James Bond) assassin repaying an old debt to the descendent of an anti-communist partisan she'd killed years ago, eerily close to the truth for once. That, plus the TEK investigation, were Hungary's main points of concern involving me.2.) I was now a person involved in significant events for half a dozen nations on the world scene.Let's start with Romania. Okay, foremost, I was responsible for the single deadliest day in modern (post-WWII) Romanian Land Forces history. There was no covering this up. Close to one hundred men and women had died in combat, and then you added the forty-some dead Amazons, many of them apparently tortured, and this was a political and public relations nightmare.No one doubted their troops behaved heroically. That wasn't the problem. The political conundrum was how could they explain Ajax and his fifty seasoned killers penetrating into central Romania with no one being aware of the danger? A few politicians wanted to blame Székely nationalists (by that, they meant the ethnic minority who 'vaguely' wanted Transylvania to rejoin Hungary), except they had me, the Hungarian Prince, leading the charge.Life would have been so much easier for them if I had died. Yes, I could read the minds of those politicians. Screw a girl, then her younger sister, and then his wife, who all say they love me, and you'll recognized the emotional intent a father directs your way. (I'd only done that once, and once was enough.) I was getting that vibe again.Unfortunately for them, I wasn't dead and three big time foreign governments (and Ireland) seemed really curious about me, my performance and my mortality. So dragging me out back for a firing squad wasn't going to happen. Riki Martin of the US State Department was there and she told me a representative of the US Military Mission was on his way up to debrief me. Russia's sexy military attaché was still on site and looking happy for some reason. Flaviu, who had some experience with me, was soon to be gone; replaced by some person who had some serious lettuce before his actual name and didn't know me from didly. Not good.The UK had one of their diplomats coming up as well, just so I didn't get lonely. They weren't driving up with the Irishman, or the American. No one considers their carbon footprint in a crisis, I swear. But wait! It gets better. My Romanian Special Force dudes had brought the rest of their company (around a hundred new buddies) with them, they seriously didn't want me to get homesick and wander off (because, you know, I liked living and freedom).The Romanian army shouldn't have worried. It seemed that there were some US Army Rangers with NATO in Kosovo, Albania, or Bosnia and Uncle Sam was expressing a desire for them to 'stop by'. Maybe they could share their C-130 with the British paratroopers who were equally concerned about my well-being. I just hoped everyone was going to play nice when the Spetsnaz arrived. Putin was suddenly (and surprisingly to me, anyway) my new pal. I had a feeling I'd soon be discovering my secret Russian heritage if I wasn't careful. I was thinking maybe I could squeeze an Order of Lenin, or a Hero of the Soviet Union out of him. I heard they both looked nice, were obsolete and came without an actual pension.If Katrina wouldn't let me write off this calamity as PTO, I was going to be irate. I was on the verge of having a large family to support after all, unless you considered me marrying a billionaire's heiress to be compensation enough. The only group involved who weren't trying to actually see me was the Khanate.Temujin most likely had some shamanistic mojo that would let him know if I croaked. That bit smacked of paganism, so it was kept under wraps because he had to appear dutifully Islamic for the masses. Still, some koumiss would have been nice. Heck, right then I could have gone for an 'atta boy', perhaps even a 'two thumbs up'.Oh yeah; the general of the 4th Romanian Division wanted me to stop by when I had the chance (if I didn't, he'd send men to kill me, or so it was insinuated). The 61st Mountain Troops was part of his division's combat command and if the General Staff went looking for someone to crucify, he was making damn sure it wasn't going to be him.It occurred to me that I could send a handsome-looking Spetsnaz (if there was such a thing) to go in my place. They were brother Slavs, right? I was sure that between the 'Fall of the Berlin Wall', Moldavian Independence and Romania joining NATO, they would have much to discuss. Out of the blue, Pamela smacked me on the back of my head, Jethro Gibbs' style. My 'more-evil Russian doppelganger' idea must have been poorly thought out.Before I could implement that silliness, or trigger the big brouhaha, there was a preamble: I had three compatriots. Of greater importance, I had three heavily armed/gravely-serious bodyguards who wouldn't surrender their weapons and/or abandon me. So I thought "play nice" thoughts to myself.Diplomacy, sovereignty and legality all reared their ugly heads. I wasn't really an Irish diplomat. My paperwork was still valid, but the Romanian government hadn't permitted my entry into their country under the standard diplomatic protocols. Ireland wanted to talk to me about that, why was I running around armed and killing people in two Central European countries? I was acting more like an Irish adventurer from the 17th century, than a genteel civil servant from the 21st.Then there was the niggling little complication that involved me, my friends and our criminal possession of military-grade hardware. Chaz had the dubious excuse of being an official British government agent on assignment. That meant he could hope for a prisoner exchange within the next decade. Rachel and Pamela were private citizens with painfully sketchy proofs of US citizenship.When the Romanian legal system finished buggering them, it would be off to Hungry and its serious inquiry into all the dead bodies we'd left in our wake. Who was I kidding? What I was really worrying about was how many members of the Romanian penal system would die when they escaped. Their flimsy identities gave no clue to how dangerous they actually were. Hell, they'd beat me home.I had the added difficulty of Ireland and their questions about who the fuck I was and why I had their gold filigree on something I didn't deserve sitting snugly in my back pocket.So first off, this new band of 'Eagles' wanted to disarm and separate us."Don't insult me," I scoffed. "I am your Prince. Don't make me explain it to your widow.""I'm not married," the Lieutenant snarled back, daring me."Well, rush out and marry somebody. I haven't got all day. We don't want me to be caught in an idle boast now do we?" I grinned. Verbal sparring apparently wasn't in his repertoire."What?""Shut the fuck up, Carl," Chaz blithely inserted himself into the conversation."But you don't even speak Romanian," I countered. "How do you even know what I said?" The Romanians didn't know English, but they knew Carl. The tension between us ebbed."By the expression on the officer's face, Hercege," he winked. "It's universal to the brotherhood.""Who is he with?" The officer questioned me."You and he are the same," I answered."You cannot go any farther armed," he returned to his mission parameters."I don't envy you going in and telling the Colonel to come out here, but so be it," I held my ground."We could kill you and take them off your corpses," he studied my reaction."You are the second handsome man to tell me that today," I shook my head. "I'll tell you what I told him: 'you sure are cute, just not my type'." Pause then laughter."You are a madman," the lieutenant snorted. "I'll go talk to the Colonel."I was a jerk, loved maidens and was a master of bullshit. Did that make me a modern day Minotaur? The lieutenant came back out, then ushered me inside; Riki had to wait for the moment. He motioned my team come along. In the staff room of the 61st were a handful of officers and several suits."Mr. Nyilas," the Colonel gazed upon me. "I don't know what to make of you.""You and my Mother both," I mumbled. Despite the somber atmosphere, a few of the men and women let their moods lighten. They didn't hold my levity against me. I'd been there, on the battlefield and if humor was how I dealt with the experience, so be it."Ha," the greying man mused. "It is wholly my fault that I disregard most of the information you supplied my staff. You were unerringly accurate in your assessment of our enemy's capabilities. I know my men and I know how good they are. Veteran commanders can barely describe what my troops endured. You warned us and I didn't believe you. I was wrong and my men died because of it," he sighed."Sir, I do not believe you could have done anything else and succeeded," I interrupted."Succeeded? Is this what you consider success?" he hardened."Absolutely, Sir. Had you been slower to respond, those men would have most likely come here, to Miercurea Ciuc, and you would have fought the same battle, except your civilians would have been caught in the mix," I lied.If Ajax had escaped he'd have hunted me down. The location would have been irrelevant to him. How he knew where to be was a question for later and something to be presented to smarter, more experienced minds."Perhaps," he allowed. "They were heading north when we encountered them.The Alal in me was going back over the plan. It had been sound."Sir, you had every reason to doubt my military experience and to believe I exaggerated the threat. I was right and I take no joy in that, nor do I think anyone can hold your decisions against you," I stated.Now he gave a bitter laugh. Yes, they could hold all the deaths against him."We both know your men and women didn't die for their country, they killed for it. Quite frankly, I believe they killed some of the most vicious creatures to ever walk the face of the Earth. Fuck them for taking so many of us. Pile their bodies up and burn them," I suggested."They deserve no more Romanian soil than a spot to inter their ashes," I concluded."You do not sound like any diplomat I've ever met," the Colonel regained his gruff exterior."I'm not. I'm a fraud. I know as much about Ireland as I do about being a prince," I confessed. "That said, I didn't come here to kill anyone. I came to save lives.""How has that worked out for you?" a sitting woman in a suit questioned, in Romanian. She was slender, waspish and didn't sound comfortable speaking English, though she knew enough to get by."I am not a fortune-teller. I don't know how this is going to work out," I said."That's not what I asked," she prodded."Yes it was," I corrected her. "You wanted to know if I thought the price of your dead countrymen was worth the life of me, my friends and the lives of your countrymen I came to save. I can't measure the promise of those lives against the loss of all the dead. Don't play games with me. I'm have a degree in Philosophy and I eat morally ambiguous people like you for lunch."Pamela laughed aloud and lively."Kimberly and Katrina would be so proud of you right now," she chortled."I don't think you grasp the deep pit your find yourself in, Friend" the suit stayed chillingly calm."Oh, I think we all know we both screwed the pooch big time," I smirked. "The difference is me and mine are all happy to be alive after two of the most trying, fun-filled days of our lives. You want to throw us in prison. The Hungarians want to throw us in prison. I'm sure if I get back to the States, they will want to put us in prison too. Have I missed anyone?""I'm glad you will confess. It will make it easier on us," she grinned like sexy weasel."Wait," Rachel put a restraining arm on me. "I've wanted to say this for some time." To the weasel, "Blow it out your ass, dipshit.""Rachel, you don't know what she said," Pamela faux-gasped."I don't know the words, but I know what he meant," Rachel glowered. She missed Charlotte so much, she was willing to court pain and death. "I want to go back in time and slap her mother repeatedly for not strangling her in the crib. Is that succinct enough?""I apologize for ever meeting you, Rachel. I've brought you to a bad end," I gave her a tender look."It's okay. I never thought I'd live long enough to sleep with you anyway," she smiled back.Phifft, sigh. It was so sad that I recognized the sound of a low-caliber, silenced round."Listen up, dipshit," Pamela snickered. "Good one, Rachel. If you don't believe the next one is going through your skull, you clearly haven't been listening to us. You are fucking with the wrong monkeys. You have this bizarre idea that if I kill you, your government won't replace your worthless, bullet-riddled hide with someone we find more agreeable. My grandson sent in motion a half million combatants a few hours ago, he nearly died leading your soldiers against your nation's enemies and you want him to kiss your shoes as if you matter at all in the grand scheme of things?" she snarled. "Think again."No one was moving because Pamela had her silenced 22 Beretta out and pointed at Weasel's head. The SF's were caught flat-footed, as was everyone else. No guards came rushing in because the closed doors further muffled the sound. "I think this is a good time for us to get a drink," Chaz advised as he slowly reached out and lowered Pamela's gun hand.It was Pamela's gunboat diplomacy yet again. She hadn't meant to kill the women. Hell, she'd been a random target of opportunity. What Pamela had done was clear up the doubts in the room. Everyone on the staff could self-consciously let themselves off the hook for not being in the front lines, risking themselves with their comrades. Thanks to Pamela, they too had confronted violence.'Crazy' Grandma had fired off her piece and everyone sighed with relief when Chaz got her to lower it. I was pretty sure Chaz was in on this dangerous game. It resided with the Colonel as to how to resolve this hiccup in our dispute."Mr. Nyilas, why don't we take a walk outside, just the two of us?" he 'requested'.I nodded because I'm not always as dumb as I look. He was letting my people off with incredible temperance and I could honorably send them away. They'd scoped out the scene and believed I'd be safe enough. He, in turn, had an excuse to take a step away from his political watchdogs."I think that is for the best," I nodded. "Do you want me to leave my guns behind?""No, Mr. Nyilas, we might run into trouble out there and one of my Captains has suggested you are a man who can take care of himself," he replied. That was very nice of him indeed. If I did do something stupid, he had a ton of troops about who would make my regrets rather temporary. I decided to behave as if I had a passing acquaintance with sanity.His first questions were about the fighting at the ruins. I peppered our exchange with my interest in what had happened to the advance force of the 22nd. It was bleak news, yet the Colonel felt a sense of relief. He was coming to accept the lethality of his enemies, which in turn, led to an understanding, if not acceptance, of the carnage his men had been subjected to.He was in a cycle of context, grief, context. He'd gambled on me and men died. Once the battle was joined though, his soldiers had done precisely the right thing under considerable stress. He could be proud without dishonoring the dead. Only Pamela and I had engaged Ajax earlier. Only I had talked with the man.The Colonel had to look into my eyes to get the spark that led to understanding the mind and ruthlessness of his opponent. The name 'Ajax' never came up. That was more than a rational mind could accept at the moment. He knew his men had fought and killed the best and that helped him cope a tiny bit. Our interview ended when the first of the unwanted guests arrived.Only when I walked inside did it occur to me that this had been my first soldier to soldier chat. We had respected one another and discussed matters like men who knew the score. That was depressing in its own right. It was well passed nightfall when we went back inside. In our absence, Riki had started to redeem my existence. My salvation lay in Romantic Americana Symbolism.Translation: I was a Horatio Alger, a working class kid raised by a widower father, who earned a scholarship to a quiet New England college, graduated near the top of my class and gotten an excellent job (salary and benefits not disclosed). That was the was the first part of the Americana, proof positive that America was still the land of opportunity and a place where poor children could still reach the highest levels of society (umm, okay?).The second Americana Part: my Father had been murdered in a case of mistaken identity. Those heavily-armed foreign corporate/rogue governmental-sponsored terrorist mercenaries (their exact origin was shrouded in double-dealing misinformation) had ruthlessly murdered my Pa to cover up their error. Like any true Son of the American Dream, I had sworn vengeance.The Symbolic Part: My compassionate, understanding government (the good governmental servants of Republican Democracy, not the bad, hires the covert, secret, black-bag, unaccountable private contractors/ pawns of the Wall Street Elite bureaucrats) allowed me to participate in a multi-national taskforce. These selfless guardians of the freedom had formed a coalition which had hunted down the villains.With the priceless assistance of two Central European countries, who currently had to remain nameless (cough: Hungary and Romania), we'd achieved a final, violent confrontation in which my allies and I had emerged bloody, scarred, yet victorious. Once more, free men and women had answered the call of duty and some had made the ultimate sacrifice.See, I had a good government that cared enough about me to let me become a gun-toting menace to the civilized world. Like a Hollywood Western hero of the 1950's, 60's and 70's, I had taken personal revenge against the forces of wickedness, exit the railroad tycoons and cattle barons, enter the shadowy world of private security forces and uncontrolled corporate capitalism.

The UnconqueredBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Politically, this was manna from Heaven. Putin couldn't strong arm both the Ukraine and the PRC. His priorities had switched, so now NATO could jump into the Ukraine which would appease their democratic constituencies.There were also larger economic/political issues to look at. Europe had constantly been threatened by Russia's interference with the oil and natural gas pipelines that first pass through Russia before crossing the Ukraine and Belarus and heading off to Central and Western Europe. A great deal of that fuel originated in what was now the Khanate.If the Khanate survived, and viewed the US and UK favorably, the 'oil and natural gas' boot would be on the other foot. If Russia threatened the European Democracies' petrochemical supplies, the Khanate could threaten to cut off Russia as well. The old Republic of Kazakhstan never had the will to confront Russia. The Khanate was turning out to be a very different beast.Because the world didn't need any more ominous rumblings, catastrophe and madness collided in Pyongyang, North Korea. North Korea was an energy exporter, with most of its power coming from coal-fired plants and hydro-electric facilities. The problem was you can't run armored vehicles and combat aircraft on electric power. You needed oil.North Korea's oil came from China, Liaoning province to be precise, and Liaoning was getting hammered around the clock by the Khanate. The oil pipeline had ruptured and it would be months before it was fixed. In that situation, a sane nation would have shopped around for other avenue of imported oil. But we were talking about North Korea here.Kim Jung-un was looking down the barrels of another famine (trucks and tractors need petrol too) as well as the far more important reduction in the Korean People's Army's readiness. He saw himself possessing the World's 4th largest military and it was in danger of running out of fuel, and Liaoning province was sitting right across the Yalu River, all helpless-like.End World News Behind the Scenes ReportIn the annals of martial history, the bloodiest, costliest battles are when elites face elites. As corny and melodramatic as it sounds, the truth is that neither has 'surrender' in their creed. They attack, defend, ambush, shoot, stab and kill one another until one side loses the capacity to carry on the struggle. It is a grapple to the death.All of Ajax's men were hardened killers, ten year veterans of the Trojan Wars every; one of them. The ranks of the 22nd Mountain Troops Battalion were filled with numerous combat-tested soldiers of the Afghan War. These Romanians were some of the finest combatants produced by the Romanian Army. The two companies earmarked for sealing off the road as a retreat route were about to find out what the price of being elite really was.They were fighting for their homeland, avenging their slain (technically, the slaughtered Amazons were Romanians) and had generations of their own warriors, dating back to the First World War, whose legacy of ferocity they had to maintain. Ajax had the advantage in technology and surprise. The Romanians had numbers, experience with the terrain and the advantage of multi-dimensional warfare.The lead vehicles of the 22nd had rounded the hilly terrain to the East of the Castle of Seven Skulls when they collided with Ajax's team rolling away from those ruins. The Mountain Troops were fast, Ajax's team was faster. One soldier stepped out of his still-braking Eagle transport.He snap-shot a Panzerfaust 3, a light anti-tank weapon, blowing up the first Romanian Piranha IIIc. Two Eagles further down the column, a second team member put another Panzerfaust into the follow-up 22nd MLVN (armored personal carrier). That was as good as it got. The third vehicle, another MLVN swung partially around its burning brethren and poured automatic fire into Ajax's lead Eagle, turning huge chunks of that 'Hummer on Steroids' transport into shrapnel.Trading vehicle for vehicle wasn't something Ajax could afford. For the Romanians, they couldn't race past the blocked road without incurring horrendous losses themselves. Besides, by holding their ground and keeping the enemy focused on them, they were fulfilling their part of the plan. The Mountain Troops disgorged from their MLVN's, spreading out into the meadow on either side of the path and were quickly bounding forward by fire.Ajax reacted quickly. His heavy weapons would allow him to attrition the enemy in front of him, yet he'd be a fool to think they were alone. He knew he was facing army troops, not police. That spelled serious trouble. He ordered his column to reverse course back into the wood cover. He lost his second Eagle to intensive fire.The warriors in the main column bailed out once they reached the shelter of the trees. Machineguns came forward and established a withering cover fire. The two survivors at the first Eagle were badly wounded. With fatalistic resolve, they lashed the advancing Romanians with grenades and their assault rifles until they were both silenced. The second Eagle's demise was much harder.Three of the four crew were alive and unharmed. Their fate was decided by 25 meters of open ground between them and their compatriots. Ajax's gunners kept firing, but the Romanians refused to be suppressed. Worse, that second MLVN was proving impossible to kill. Its driver had parked it so that barely the front of his vehicle body and turret were exposed.Two more of Ajax's precious anti-tank rockets failed to connect, though one did knock the first destroyed IFV into that troublesome vehicle. These were Ajax's brothers-in-arms, yet he knew their situation was hopeless. He cursed that his opposition wasn't made up of raw conscripts. Despite their losses, they were not wavering. Their morale remained solid.The Romanians had spread out to the north and south. They were leap-frogging their machineguns forward and it was clear he was facing over 200 men. The 22nds advance was relentless. Soon they'd be right on top of his trapped men. As a final ploy he dropped two smoke grenades around the endangered trio and every other grenade launcher dropped their payloads onto the aggressive Romanians.The three men ran for it. Their enemy were nobody's fool and sprayed their retreat path with bullets. Only one made it to safety.For the Romanian battalion's commander in his command IFV, this was its own kind of Hell. His boys were getting murdered out there. He hadn't really believed the sketchy intelligence analysis that described his expected foes as the finest trained mercenaries the world has ever seen. Now he was a believer. His opponents reacted like an organic unit. Their weapons were incredibly lethal and their discipline was chilling. Ajax's snipers picked off anyone who seemed to be in charge. One Captain fell, as did two lieutenants. One section lost all its non-commissioned officers.Despite that, individual initiative kept the 'leaderless' men of the 22nd advancing. Their snipers came into play by targeting the opposing machineguns. One gunner went down, then the other. To get one man back, Ajax had lost five dead, or seriously wounded. Ajax ordered the remaining Eagles back to the castle. The rest of the Warband would have to make a fighting retreat.He'd killed or wounded a third of the Romanians out there, yet they were still coming. Even as he pulled out, he got two more pieces of bad:First, his scouts had reported hearing helicopters as they returned toward the castle; this latest enemy was somewhere behind him, to the east.Second, two Mig-21's dropped out of the sky and raked his area with rockets and auto-cannon fire; eight more men gone.Ajax may not have been the greatest military mind of all time, but wasn't a fool. He was being boxed in. Since it was highly unlikely the Hylonome Amazons had sacrificed themselves, this was an ad hoc plan to take him out. Instead of hunting down that male Amazon as he wanted, Ajax had let the Condottieri side-track him on this mission. Now, it was proving far too costly.A whistle, a few traded hand signals and the Mycenaeans started sprinting back upslope toward the castle ruins. It wasn't a rout. His men maintained their élan and cohesion. Ajax was trading space for time and the Romanians wouldn't chase his men as fast as the Mycenaeans were moving because there was always the threat of ambush. Or, they wouldn't have if an An-30 Reconnaissance Aircraft hadn't been tracking his progress from high above.Just coming on-line, it identified the heat signatures of the Greeks and let the soldiers of the 22nd know that their enemies were trying to put some distance between them. The battalion commander knew his men had been mangled, yet believed they were still more than willing carry the fight to the enemy. Right as the 'pursuit' order went out, the promised company from the 24th Mountain troops rolled up, with the 61st Brigade's 385th artillery battalion. 'Now things were really going to get hot for those bastards', he thought.(The Seven Skulls, Cáel)I was true to my nature. I sent off my plan, Operation Funhouse, to the Russians via their attaché (a hot looking, curvaceous blonde Major) and to the Khanate through the offices of the US and UK. Only after that was done, did I ask for my favor. I wasn't going to bargain with the fate of Temujin's people. I couldn't.My only chip to play was that people in strange places thought well of me. I wasn't so naïve to believe that I got what I wanted because I'd forged emotional bonds that superseded personal ambitions or national loyalties. No, I was now on my own self-inflicted 'Ride of the Valkyries' because people in authority felt I could still be useful and they were willing to risk the lives a few hundred Romanian soldiers to pander to my eccentricities.Our intelligence came from Google Maps, a woman's recollections from twenty-five years ago and the frighteningly precise memories of a battle-scarred 11 year old girl. For the 24th Mountain Troops battalion intelligence officer, it was a stunning introduction to Amazons. The girl was one year away from her Rite of Passage and she'd been raised to take in the terrain and the sounds of battle.Several times, he tried to trick her, altering information she had provided minutes earlier, but the girl corrected him every time. Seventeen minutes and the man relayed to his battalion commander his belief that the girl's story was solid. The men and women of the 24th may not have known the specific of the valley we were going to, yet this was their backyard.They knew the rocks, trees and bushes. They knew the ground was crinkled and what marsh soil looked like, without stepping into it. They could do this, attack a rogue mercenary band threatening their native land. They were going to do this and do it quick. Me and mine coming along was problematic. But Me being one of the first ones in, I had to play my trump card."I am Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege," I proclaimed. "I have returned to my people in their hour of need. Besides, I'm the only one who can kill their leader.""You can kill Ajax?" Riki snorted in disbelief. "Ajax from the Trojan Wars? That Ajax?""Don't sweat it," I put my arm around her shoulder. "I got this covered. Get me close and I can make him dead.""You've lost your mind," Rachel muttered."I love you to," I grinned. To the Captain of the first company to rappel next to the ruins, "I'm your Prince. Let's do this.""Do you have any combat experience?" he shook his head."There are a whole bunch of dead Chinese who think so," I assured him."Let him go," Sakuniyas stated regally. "He is the Scion of Alal. He is invincible in battle." Hey, I liked that. Someone believed in me."Do you believe that?" Pamela asked Saku."Of course not, but if he's about to die, he should be allowed to feel good about himself," she told Pamela. Shit, I wish I hadn't heard that part."Oh, in that case, I agree. Let him go," Pamela added her preference to the final decision. The real weight in that Captain's final call was the small, well-armed group of supporters who seemed rather insistent that I get a chance at Valhalla.He took it well. The officer even announced to the entire battalion that their feudal overlord was leading them into the fight. My codename was 'Prince'. I hope I didn't turn out like the singer, I had no aspirations for being Machiavelli's 'hero', but being remember as someone like Prince Harry wouldn't be so bad.What I did know was this was my choice of actions and I couldn't send others into the madness I had inspired. I didn't blame myself for the deaths. Those were inevitable if Ajax was going to die. I didn't blame myself for Ajax, that was the Weave of Fate being a bastardly bitch. No, I had to kill Ajax because I was an idiot, and I loved my companions, and if it wasn't me making the attempt and possibly dying, it would be one of them. Not on my watch.Our IAR 330 Puma Helicopter lifted off into the sky. Our two companion birds, another troop carrier and an assault variant of the Puma, followed suit and soon we linked up with the rest of the company that was going to rappel into the clearing next to the ruins. Could I rappel? Sure, I lied. Hey, I'd made it to the top of the rope in gym class at the end of my senior year. That had to count for something.I was even lucky to have the lynchpin of my master plan sitting next to me. One in sixteen, what were the odds? "You, what's your name?" I asked the soldier barely older than me. "Master Corporal Menner," he grinned. Maybe he sensed my insanity. "Székely?" I asked. He nodded.   "Do you believe I am your Prince?""Either that, or you are crazy," he kept grinning. I leaned over and after some helmet shuffling, I whispered my request in his ear. I didn't demand that he agree, only that if he didn't, he wouldn't turn me in. Our eyes met."Why?" he was now filled with disbelief. I had passed beyond the realm of comedian to the land where all crazy ideas go off to die."It is the only way. Trust me, I don't love this plan either, but it is the only way I can think of to keep as many of you alive as possible," I explained. "He's a monster.""How will this help?" he was still confused, even if he was being swept away with my intensity."I don't have time to explain. All I can tell you is that I'm not crazy and I don't want to die, but this is the only thing I can think of to keep my people alive," I remained firm and confident in my beliefs."I will have to think about it," he conceded. At least he wasn't insisting I be forcibly committed to a mental institution. I did annoy one of the two crewmen in the back with the rest of us combatants when I stood up and looked out the side window. I glimpsed it, her, flowing through the forest beneath us. After I sat back down, the Captain flagged me.I had forgotten to cut on my communications rig on. "First Force (the two companies of the 22nd) has encountered the enemy before they could exit into the flatlands," he paused, somewhat shocked. "They are taking heavy casualties. It is just like you warned us. These foes are exceedingly lethal." "Don't worry about it," I overflowed with charisma. "Just follow me and we'll be fine." "But, I thought you said you didn't know anything about the compound?" the Captain looked at me funny."I don't. I'm relying on luck," I pumped my eyebrows. The Captain knew enough English to groan."I have a sudden desire to club a baby seal," Rachel stared at me intently. Who, me? "Let me and my men take the point," the Captain insisted. "Captain, either I'm diving headfirst out of our ride, or you are letting me rappel down in the first wave, either way, my boots are the first on the ground," I demanded. "No," the Captain shook his head. "You are a civilian." "Captain," I leaned forward. "Everyone else is fighting and dying because I made a judgment call. You can't ask me to hold back now."That shone through. Over his battalion frequency, he could hear the confusion and chaos chiseling away at his brethren in the 22nd. He could tell by my countenance that I both knew the enemy he was going to fight and that I wasn't ruled by guilt, or a death wish. I wanted to go first because I thought I could make the difference between someone else's life and death. "Who are the other three with you?" he stated. Four could rappel down at a time. "Rachel, Chaz and Master Corporal Menner here," I indicated. Rachel didn't freak, the Colour Sergeant looked my way and gave his acknowledgement, as did Menner. "I'll go down with you, Captain," Pamela spoke up.Of my group, Delilah, Wiesława and Virginia had stayed behind to guard Odette, Riki, the Lovasz sisters and the Loma family. Two troopers of the 24th joined them to provide extra security if needed. Vincent had pulled seniority to be the sole American going. With Chaz and Delilah, there hadn't been a real discussion about it. Chaz was the professional ground-pounder.Selena had volunteered to go even though this wasn't really her fight. She claimed the right of revenge for Ajax's attempt to kill the Vizsla, but I thought it was something else, some desire to step forward and make the point that the Black Hand were invested in this global struggle. There had been no doubt that Rachel  and  her team plus Sakuniyas and Pamela would be joining me.In my estimation, we were over the target area way too fast. I hadn't thought of a good reason to talk myself out of this harebrained scheme of mine. The side doors of the Puma opened. Rachel would be going down on my side."Look and see what Rachel does and do the same thing," Pamela yelled to me over the roar of the engines."And don't lock your knees or you'll sprain your ankles," she added. It was just another day of 'on the job' training at Havenstone Commercial Investments, I rationalized. I was scared, which was also a good indicator that I was still marginally sane. Rachel made her movements slow and steady.I went down a second later, barely remembering to avoid rope burn through my gloves and not bust my feet when I hit bottom. Rachel crouched. She was waiting for follow up troops before advancing. Me, I ran straight toward the ruins. Why? It was Alal once more. From the relayed chatter from the 22nd and whatever spy plane the Romanians had above, I 'knew' that Ajax hadn't made it back to the fortifications yet.If we hurried, we could beat him there. Then we would be ambushing his ass for a change. It almost worked. Whatever Chaz and Menner thought of my actions, they kept it to themselves. I didn't have to be a psychic to realize Rachel wasn't a fan. I leapt over the first Amazon corpse. The second one I passed was sitting with her back to the tree, hands tied around the trunk and had been tortured before she died.I believed that was when the momentum shifted. This was barbarism and the three following me knew it. Menner relayed our findings to his Captain even as the first helicopter was pulling away. My mind was picking up the details and processing somewhere in the back of my mind so as not to distracting me from the task of staying alive.A pile of bodies lumped too close together, they had been executed. A small girl, three, or four, with a close-contact wound to the temple. The smell of burnt flesh, more torture. Whatever Code of Military Conduct the Mycenaeans had, it wasn't the rules we, their opponents, fought by today. We were outraged and help was coming.We were running in from the northeast. Three meter from what had once been a doorway, I broke free of the underbrush and saw the closest Greek and the row of vehicles behind him. He was to my east, maybe ten meters away. I wasn't stopping. The terrain had funneled us down so that we weren't coming directly from the helicopter's noise.That must have been the reason he wasn't staring at us when we appeared. I didn't stop. Chaz and Menner were right behind me. Rachel only slowed enough to fire her P-90 at full-auto at the man as she ran. She killed him. The three of us ran across the open-aired, ruined room until we found the doorway to the other side of the building. From there, we had a good view of Ajax's remaining Eagles and the eight remaining men with them."I'm going for higher ground," Chaz growled before he took off."Rachel, go back and secure the corner we came in by," I shouted. She grimaced but obeyed. Menner had his own ideas. He fired off his first rocket-propelled grenade from his AG-7 at the farthest Eagle he could clearly see, blowing it to smithereens. I added the

A day in the life of rural Hungary.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.'Here be Dragons' wasn't always a tourist gimmick."I didn't say you could have a drink," the Vizsla commented."Oh, my apologies," I shrugged. I put the stein on a nearby table and waited."Have a seat," she directed. I came up to her table and examined the three empty chairs. I held back until she pointed to the chair opposite her. I sat down, but didn't make eye contact. Instead, I examined the various paintings and photographs on the walls. It was an old place."You killed Matthias, even though you knew he worked for me," she uttered."I can confirm that information to be correct," I looked her way. That, wasn't what she expected."Why?""Why what?" I countered. There was a method to my madness; this was going to be a lesson in competence, and what happens when you don't respect it."Why did you kill Matthias?""I needed a reason?" I tried to look pensive. "Maybe I didn't like the cut of his facial hair?""Do you think this is a joke?" she replied dryly. "The Black Hand always avenge our own.""Damn," I looked perplexed. "No one told me that when I arrived. Can we call Matthias's extermination a 50/50 bad call, both ways?""Matthias was my cousin," the Vizsla continued."My condolences," I sighed. "The next Black Hand douche-bag the Amazons waste, I'll have them ask if he's related to you first. How's that?""You are so not likely to have that opportunity," she pointed out."Oh," I laughed, "you are so wrong about that.""You are far stupider than I had been informed," the Vizsla's eyes narrowed."Nope. You and your cast of 'Dumb and Dumber' have been treating us like idiots since we touched down at Ferenc Liszt International, so I'm pretending to be that simpleton sock-puppet just for you, Vizsla. You've added to that by heaping disrespect and derision on my people," I grinned."You tried to have me and my entourage murdered and Matthias paid the price for that. Everyone knows I'm here. And after your bungled attempt to have me killed, no one is going to believe you did anything but murder me, if I don't show up eventually. Now do you prefer the stupid me, or the brighter than normal me?""If you think acting like a smart-ass is somehow endearing, you are mistaken," she let me know."Whatever," I shrugged. "You called this meeting. What do you want?""Beyond killing one of my lieutenants, I wanted to know what you are doing here?" she studied me."I would like to leave now. I'm wasting my time here," I responded."I want answers," she pressed."You have been given the answers to both your talking points, Matthias died because of your orders and I am here looking for three lost Amazon bloodlines," I replied."That seems bizarre," the Vizsla expressed her doubts."Bizarre? You are talking to the sole male Amazon House Head in three thousand years," I reminded her. "Besides, you only just now finished telling me how the Black Hand look after their own. The Amazons are the same way; we have lost kin who need to be made aware of their background.""What do we do about Matthias?" the Vizsla asked."In all honesty, had he not personally threatened to stab a member of my team, I would have settled for kicking the crap out of him. He put a knife to Ms. Martin's throat. That assured his death sentence. I think the Host will be willing to accept my hypothesis that Matthias was acting on his own initiative, which should settle the matter."And just like that, the expediency of the Black Hand shown forth. The truth of the matter was that he had acted on the Vizsla's orders. Unfortunately, that would have meant my side would have come after the Vizsla and she would have had to avenge his death, lots of needless bloodshed. So Matthias posthumously became a rabid dog gone rogue and one who ended up crossing the wrong people. No vengeance required by anyone. We could get back to business."That is settled. So, what do you want from your new allies?" the Vizsla inquired. A certain level of cold-blooded ruthlessness had been required to achieve her spot in the Black Hand. Likewise, honesty was the best policy when dealing with casually lethal people. They didn't like self-important asses wasting their time."I need to find an individual named 'Branko'. He has kidnapped a young lady who is one of our lost Amazons. We don't require any aid, but if you could leave Selena with us, it would be appreciated," I requested."What are you going to do when you catch up with this 'Branko'?" she questioned."I'd like to say I am going to buy her back, but I think we both know that is a pipe-dream. He's not going to like me interfering in his business, so I'm going to kill him, and any other bastards who are in close proximity," I confessed. She studied me for over a minute."Do you wish a piece of advice?" the Vizsla said."Of course," I nodded. It cost me nothing to acknowledge her vastly superior experience."Take a step back," she advised. Seeing that I didn't understand, "If you recall every single death by your hand, you will go mad. You don't possess the detachment of a true killer, Cáel. Not every member of the Black Hand is an assassin.Your driver, Josef, is from a long line of Black Hand members. He doesn't have what it takes to get close and personal in order to kill a human being, so he drives and provides security. He still matters and serves a necessary function." That was almost nice of her. The advice was based on her decision to keep me around as a useful tool. Going nuts would derail that."There is the life we wish to lead, and the life we must lead, Vizsla," I recalled. There was so much there, whirling around in my skull, it took me all this time to find the link I was looking for. Recall every single death by my hand, "On January 26th, 1847, the Black Hand Chapter House of the Wolf in Verona was wiped out, there were no survivors.""If you say so," she regarded me oddly."Yeah, look into it. Then come back to me when you have the right questions," I stood up. "And 'Branko'?""I will relay information on this individual to Selena. We should have something by the time you get back to Buda," she got out before one of the bodyguards came running our way.He had his H and K MP5 out and was in deep conversation with his ear piece."Our two spotters failed to respond correctly," he told the Vizsla in Hungarian. She gave me another quick once over."My people?" I rose slowly.The Vizsla gave the man a subtle hand gesture. Seconds later, pushing Alkonyka ahead of them, Pamela, Selena and Josef came running through the door. Pamela and Selena had our duffels. Two more Black Hand materialized from a back room.The Black Hand was actually a small outfit. Each Chapter had two or three houses, each with four or five true assassins and maybe six times that in support personnel/recruits in each location. That meant the entire Black Hand organization numbered less than 1000. They had several thousand peripheral contacts across their sphere of Europe and they could purchase some sort of private security given time. But their best protection was their hidden nature and small size. That also meant what we had was what we had. There was no Black Hand SWAT team on the way.Working with hand gestures alone, the Vizsla was directing us to a trap door behind the bar. Josef's phone rang. He hesitantly answered."It is for you," he offered it to our host. She took it. Halfway through the caller's diatribe, she shot me a suspicious look."Why don't you ask him?" she stated, then handed me the phone."Hello Nyilas. Do you know who this is?" the man on the other end stated, in Mycenean Greek."Yes, I do. What do you want? I'm kind of busy here?" I grinned. It was laughing at death all over again."I can relieve you of your pressing schedule. You and the other Amazon step outside and I'll make it quick.""No can-do Studly," I smirked. "If I go out there, it is going to take a while.""I sincerely doubt that.""Don't sell yourself short," I jibed. "I figure clipping off those bull-sized testicles of yours is going to take some work. But I do promise that after I make you a eunuch, I'll use a condom when I bend you over and make you my bitch too. Was there anything else you wanted to know?""No. I think we have a mutual understanding," he laughed. "I'll be seeing you soon." He hung up."Who was that?" Vizsla inquired. She wasn't alone in her curiosity."Ajax," I beamed confidence. I was confident my tenure on this Earth was ending real soon."I think we should be leaving," Vizsla suggested."Selena, help Alkonyka get her sister back," I requested. "I'll catch up when I can. Pamela, you do what you feel you need to do. Vizsla, they are after me, so I'm going to keep them busy while you get away," I explained.No useless 'you don't have to do this' nonsense. She knew the score, I wasn't a member of her outfit and she wanted to live. She did do me one favor. She gave another hand movement. Selena slit Josef's throat in a surprise motion.He didn't die right away. Selena's slash made bleeding out inevitable, but he'd be a while in dying. Odds were, that only Vizsla and Josef knew in advance where we were meeting. Whatever payoff the Condottieri had put in his bank account wasn't going to do him any good. Selena bent over his still-thrashing body and removed his pistol."I will bring you Angyalka Lovasz," Selena pledged. Pamela and I were gearing up. Ajax and his buddies were going to be coming for me any second now. Alkonyka gave me one more worried look before she vanished into the secret basement. "Don't be late," was the last thing Selena said before going down into the darkness. Pamela made sure the trap door was covered up.Lust and Bullets"We've used Butch and Sundance," Pamela checked her L42 Enfield Sniper Rifle. It was the weapon Pamela had trained with and used for longer than I'd been alive, old yet very effective even today."Heat?" I offered up. "You can be De Niro and I can be Kilmer.""Nice. Michael Mann really had a way of killing people," Pamela grinned, then pumped her eyebrows. "Too bad I end up dead in this one.""We'll avoid airports, you should be safe," I joked. Three explosions rocked the building, shooting glass throughout the place. Fortunately, Pamela and I were hiding behind the bar."Let's go," she whispered over the din. Charging out the front door seemed pretty suicidal to me, but Pamela's copious battle lore was something I had the utmost faith in. I respected her judgment and followed along. There was a method to her madness. Two 40 mm grenades had taken out the two cars parked in front. A third launched grenade had blown open the door.The petrol in the cars equated to flaming wreckage and a huge smoke screen. It was broad daylight, no night vision goggles. The flames made IR useless and the smoke temporarily obscured regular vision. The machineguns going off around us scared the crap out of me. It was my old buddy, suppression fire: they weren't shooting directly at us.Metaphysically, Ishara was dueling with Ares. There was a low stone wall, a little over a meter high, that separated an adjacent field from the inn's gravel parking lot. Right as we got to our side of it, three of Ajax's boys came up on the other. Pamela and I remained perfectly still, crouching tightly against our shelter.Two knelt and fired several bursts from their H and K HK416 (Wow! Germany's newest killing machine, they looked slick) into the closest open windows while the third one fired a grenade in. Again, we remained perfectly still. We were about two meters from those three. The drab color of our hastily donned dusters, the congested air and our stillness combined to save us from their notice.The second after that grenade went off, the three vaulted the wall and rushed the building. From the cacophony of the battle, they were storming the building from several directions at once."Quick, go find that guy with the machinegun," Pamela whispered over a feral grin. How was I going to do that?The old fashioned way, I leapt over the wall and ran away from all the flames, explosions and the continuous widespread fusillade of assault weapons fire. I was partially bent over as I ran. I'm still a big guy though. The machine gunner was in a shallow dip in the meadow 30 meters away, on the edge of the woods.He saw me, shifted his MG4 (fuck Ajax and his crew for having the best Bang-Bangs) minutely and unleashed hell my way. In hindsight, the 1st round flattened against my duster as it impacted my upper left thigh. Round #2 hit the duster again, coming below my vest, but hitting my belt (every bit of leather helps).The #3 556 mm slug hit my vest due south of my belly button (Fuck!), # 4 landed a few centimeters up and to the right, taking in both the duster and my ballistic vest. The #5 round clipped my lower side of my right ribcage. The resulting force sent me spinning back and to my right.Honestly, as I landed hard on my back (no rolling with the blow this time), I thought a midget mule team had kicked me in the guts. Apparently, I made a convincing mortally wounded human being. He stopped shooting and Pamela got pissed.I learned a few things at that moment: you do not get used to being shot; you can never appreciate the value of good body amour enough; you can never understand the true value of a sniper until your life is totally in their hands; and damn, Pamela was exceptional. Pamela put a bullet through his nasal cavity in that split second between him exposing himself with his muzzle flashes and deciding to put a few more bullets into my prone form.Pain dictated that I lie where I was. Survival instincts overrode that. I went to my side, pushed up and resumed my crouched stance. Then I was running once more until I could throw myself beside his corpse. I was stunningly calm. Machineguns, snipers, I had to cover Pamela's run across the meadow. I didn't stay by the dead gunner.I grabbed his weapon, some spare ammo and quick-stepped it to the wood line. I rapidly assessed the best spot that could provide cover from each flank. That was where I went down, cradled the device and started shooting at any muzzle flash I could see. The moment I opened fire, Pamela began her own sprint.Unlike my mad dash, Pamela took evasive maneuvers, serpentine, which worked out well when one sniper figured out she wasn't one of them. He/she had two shots at her before she dove past me. Her mien was one of intense, emptiness? She gave me a quick pat-down to make sure I wasn't gushing blood, took a deep breath and then smirked."Come on, Dummy!" she laughed. "We still have a shot at a sequel.""Shot, sequel, you are a laugh riot," I wheezed as I stood, abandoned the MG4 and joined her as we both ran deeper into the woods. A few shots zinged past us before Ajax's crew realized we were in full-on flight mode. They weren't going to waste the bullets.This was the point where archaic and modern warfare diverged. In the olden (pre-Pamela, ow! How did she know what I was thinking?) days, when your enemy broke and ran, it was relatively easy to run them down and slaughter them in their panic. If a few men tried to stem the tide, they would be quickly overwhelmed.After the invention of rapid-fire rifles, that changed. Suddenly, headlong pursuit could be incredibly costly. All it took was a small, resolute band to find some sort of hard cover and they could buy minutes, or even hours, for their retreating brethren. Sure, if you were willing to pay the butcher's bill, you could storm their position.But you had to understand, each defender could fire and work the bolt action in under three seconds. You reloaded your magazine with a prepared clip ~ maybe five more seconds. Ten men could put 150 bullets down range per minute as long as their ammo held out. Sending men into that kind of firepower was murder; very few troops could sustain their attack under those conditions.Ajax's resurrected Mycenaean's were tough enough to do it. Ajax's problem was their finite number. Despite catching Ajax off-guard with Pamela's mad plan, her ungodly skills and a great deal of my pain, we had only managed to kill one so far. The great unknowns were terrain (we didn't know where we were,) and my luck.As Pamela and I ran through the forest at a good clip, we began to make out a specific background noise. It was a river. Not a creek, stream, waterfall, or dam, a river."Did you pack your jet ski?" Pamela snorted."I left it in the car. You said it was so '1990's'," I panted back. A few more footsteps and,

In this episode, we uncover the Mycenaean roots of Ancient Greek deities and beliefs about death and the afterlife. The Mycenaeans controlled much of Greece and the Aegean Sea starting about 1700 BCE until about 1200 BE, when the Late Bronze Age collapse led to hundreds of years of political, social, and climate upheaval for the entire region. But through their monumental architecture, art, and stories they left behind, Classical Greek mythology was born. Discover the origins of deities like Dionysus, Poseidon, and Hermes and their original underworld associations. Journey into sacred sites the Greeks inherited from the Mycenaeans, like the Sanctuary of Poseidon with caverns that have been associated with sacred burials and the underworld as far back as the Neolithic. Then we'll take a look at Hades and several less famous Greek goddesses, gods, and monsters of death and the underworld.Transcripts For transcripts of this episode head over to: https://archpodnet.com/tpm/09Links See photos related to episode topics on Instagram Loving the macabre lore? Treat your host to a coffee!ArchPodNet APN Website: https://www.archpodnet.com APN on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/archpodnet APN on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/archpodnet APN on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/archpodnet Tee Public Store: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/archaeology-podcast-network?ref_id=5724Affiliates Motion

Ash Men, Sins, and the Will of the Ancestors. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. ‘Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone.'  11:00 p.m. Thursday Night. Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She'd looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada's unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn't too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light. She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn't wise. In the same vein, the 'stun gun' I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada's imagination. With the flash of my weapon, Rhada's eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim' would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine. It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps. I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm. Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife. ‘What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?' I taunted her softly as I caught my breath. I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs. ‘Fuck it,' I mused. ‘You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.' I wasn't sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole' really excited her. ‘You are probably so loose I couldn't feel a thing if I did fuck you,' I kept up the pressure. ‘Maybe I'll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut' and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said '$5 per hole', do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?' She whimpered. Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants. After slapping against her molten labia a few times, ‘What? You don't want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?' Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative. ‘Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?' I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing. All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me. I snatched up Rhada's knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me. ‘No,' Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me. Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like', or 'let me explain' to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster. ‘What are you going to do?' I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment. ‘How could you?' Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back. ‘There is no way I can explain this,' I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada's knife. ‘Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn't put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.' Okay, that last bit was bullshit. ‘Is Rhada okay?' Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later'. I freed Rhada's hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it. ‘Ask her yourself,' I suggested. Sensing Rhada's insanity rising up. ‘No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won't allow it.' Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn't understand. ‘Rhada, I came here to save you,' Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight. ‘You came to take my Cáel for yourself,' Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all. ‘I need to; get something from my backpack,' I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada. ‘You brought a change of clothes for her?' Oneida was still playing 'kinky games' catch up. ‘Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,' Rhada seethed. ‘How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around; ?' Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her. ‘None of this makes any sense,' Oneida protested. It didn't matter. ‘Oneida, are your guardians close by?' I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant. Oneida nodded. ‘Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I'll try to have this make sense to you one day,' I said. ‘No!' Rhada yelped as if I'd stuck her. ‘I cannot wait any longer.' ‘Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,' I insisted. I wasn't afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn't waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away. Rhada looked at me as if she'd witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida's way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk' and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I'd pay the bill later. (Friday Morning) I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner' security types. Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn't look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up. What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me. ‘Cáel Nyilas,' the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG's) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was. A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn't recognize. ‘Have I just won Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?' I grinned foolishly. I'm sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I'm not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me. ‘Let go,' one of them hissed. ‘Do I at least get a claim check?' I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell; not an elevator and down I went. Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'screw it' moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me. She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard. Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn't try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall. I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I'd lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double. Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn't going anywhere fast. I wasn't done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position. ‘Stop that,' one of the guards stated. ‘I'd like to sit up, please,' I requested. With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions. ‘Thank you,' I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh? ‘They all said you would fight,' the leader grinned. ‘We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,' she informed me. ‘Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,' I said. ‘Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.' Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I'd cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum. ‘Is there any way I could make a video message?' I inquired. ‘No,' was the reply. ‘Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I'm okay, but won't be able to see her for a while,' I pled my case. ‘You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?' another asked. ‘I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,' I explained. ‘Save some of that defiance for your relocation,' the leader snickered. ‘You'll need it.' ‘Thanks. I will,' I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious. ‘You've accepted your fate?' the one I'd knocked out questioned. ‘The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,' I shrugged. ‘Bravado,' a different Amazon snorted. ‘You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I'm left with,' I stared at her. ‘I've beaten your ilk enough times to know I'll escape that life before too long.' That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring. ‘When is the meeting?' I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation. She didn't look surprised. She hid it well. ‘What meeting?' she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest. ‘Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?' I looked up. ‘What do you know?' she prodded. The others were now watching. ‘I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I've been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,' I laid out my case. ‘If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?' the leader wondered. ‘I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,' I mused. ‘I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,' I answered. ‘Their friendship and affection is pointless. I'm good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.' ‘You sound angrier than your words indicate,' an Amazon noted. ‘I am angry. I don't desire death,' I shrugged. ‘I don't think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.' ‘What would that be?' the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom. ‘Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That's a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,' I stated. ‘Does that fantasy make you feel better?' she pressed, somewhat amused. ‘Of course not,' I laughed. ‘That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.' ‘You know nothing of us,' she said and the others laughed. ‘Yeah; right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?' I grinned. ‘Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,' I chuckled. ‘Sterile females, deformed babies; you taught those men a lesson alright.' ‘You are all such epic bad-asses, you've butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you've got your racial superiority, right?' I chortled. ‘You should shut up now,' the leader's eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence. An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise. ‘Get dressed,' she ordered. ‘Why?' I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time. ‘You will do it because you've been told to do it,' Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. ‘Help me get him dressed,' she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I'd dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps. I ended up farther down that I'd ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively. ‘He has been summoned,' Constanza informed the door guards. One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden's chair. ‘Stand there,' Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it. ‘Sure,' I did as I was instructed. ‘Why am I here?' ‘Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,' Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me. My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt; because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine. Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn't know. ‘Good morning Cáel Nyilas,' she said. ‘This is my cousin, Arwen.' The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain't easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor. ‘Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?' Katrina smirked. ‘Cut me some slack, Boss. I'm three insults away from slinging poo,' I grinned back. ‘Nice to meet you, Arwen,' I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn't shake. ‘She's your apprentice?' I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. ‘That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?' ‘She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,' Katrina enlightened me. ‘What is her survival stratagem then?' I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina. ‘Have her cake and eat it too,' Katrina mused. ‘She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves; because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.' ‘I'm about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,' I shrugged. ‘Take care Katrina.' ‘Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,' Arwen 'clarified' things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn't get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough. Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn't take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing. The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren't sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden's pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren't afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer. The 'junior' members started the chorus as the last 'senior' joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down. ‘A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,' Hayden began. ‘A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.' And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden's right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn't know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti. Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward' for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida's life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet. ‘I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,' Hayden announced. ‘Does anyone have other salient points to add?' That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention. ‘I do, High Priestess,' the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused. ‘I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,' Hayden nodded then resumed seating. ‘My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,' Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant. (1)'First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,' Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. ‘At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.' Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order. (2) ‘Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn't for the New Directive.' ‘As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,' Shawnee looked around the table. ‘At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter's life.' ‘As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense; unless,' Shawnee's face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. ‘Thus I had Cáel's genetic identity tested, to see if; ‘ ‘To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,' Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order. ‘Oh Ursula,' Shawnee smirked, ‘the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti's sins and the Council's decision.' ‘But;' Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon's looked my way, clearly bewildered. ‘We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,' Shawnee stated. ‘We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.' ‘Who?' Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far. (3)'Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,' Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. Not good. The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side. That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn't part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision. ‘You are all incorrect,' the unknown tablet-reader spoke. Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling. ‘Elsa, who is that?' I whispered. ‘Krasimira, Keeper of Records,' Elsa quietly informed me. ‘What; what do you mean?' Messina, Fabiola's Mom stammered. ‘Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,' Krasimira related. ‘So?' Ursula remarked. ‘He's still a male.' Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old. ‘He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel's ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.' ‘He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,' an old enemy from Egypt chimed in. ‘Perhaps,' Krasimira nodded. ‘That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.' ‘There is no Head of House Ishara!' Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair. ‘Again, you are incorrect,' Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. ‘There is a Head of House Ishara and he's standing right there.' Even Hayden had a problem with that. ‘But he's male,' Hayden declared. ‘That is Irrelevant,' Krasimira said. ‘To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,' she quoted Amazon law, ‘so he is House Ishara's head.' Silence reigned. ‘Gun,' I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. ‘Don't make me repeat myself.' I growled. Elsa didn't look for guidance. She wasn't that type. She drew her 45 automatic and put in in my hand. ‘The safety is engaged,' she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my' seat. ‘One more step and I'll shoot you where you stand,' Ursula threatened. ‘No you won't,' Saint Marie stood. ‘I'll kill you first.' ‘Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,' Hayden explained. ‘I don't like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.' There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn't stop because that wouldn't be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First' House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First' Houses as well. The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower. It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn't forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves. I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn't be sitting in it. ‘I will stand for House Ishara,' I announced. ‘I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.' ‘No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,' I kept going. ‘Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I'm not going to start now.' ‘You insult us,' Messina stood up. Five other women joined her. ‘By all means,' Katrina stood, ‘we eagerly await your challenge.' Eight other women joined her. I hadn't suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First' Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup. Messina's backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn't going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That's why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons. They couldn't make them 'not-Amazons' and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they'd never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill. No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children; sure, let's walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he'd obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I'd worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this screwed-up language. I'd re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I'd like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I'd like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever. Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible. I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man; with two axes. That was; no I couldn't accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus. Oneida hadn't been trapped by madness and pride. She'd been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She'd seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she'd had to save me and she couldn't tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn't the time to ask. I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee's head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida's head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn't like those ideas. ‘Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?' I mocked them. ‘You don't; ,' a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out. ‘They didn't sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,' I glared. ‘They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you screwed up.' Tons of 'how dare you' and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence. ‘Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice's' throat?' I posed. I could see the 'no' forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head. ‘Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,' I explained. ‘You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host; and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I'm wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.' ‘You are correct,' Krasimira said. ‘All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.' What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess. The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona's house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass. The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal; that was the issue now. Miss Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process. ‘What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?' she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest. ‘Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?' I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips. ‘I am not sure Cáel,' Hayden responded. ‘Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.' ‘He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,' Fatima stated. ‘His status is not in question,' Hayden purred. That was the 'I'm about to lose patience with you' purr. ‘I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?' I inquired. ‘I don't know you, or your ways,' Fatima spat. ‘You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,' I snorted. ‘So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don't know me.' ‘If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,' I stated. ‘After all, they risked everyone's anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti's long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn't do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,' I challenged the Host. ‘You trained your monkey well,' Messina mocked Katrina. ‘Ah;' I mused as I picked up my pistol. ‘Safety.' I got a feel for the weapon. ‘Messina, what's the name of your 'apprentice'?' ‘You wouldn't dare,' Messina hissed. ‘You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,' I smiled insanely. ‘Why do you think I'll let you get away with that? I'm not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.' ‘Pull that trigger and you will die,' Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events. ‘Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,' I pointed out. ‘Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down; please,' Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.   Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare' coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina's hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time. ‘Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?' the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. ‘I don't like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.' ‘Wait! Hayden, now that I'm;' I got all excited. ‘No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady',' Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths. ‘Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady'?' this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn't one of my fans. ‘Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,' I revealed. ‘I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.' It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair. ‘You are very poetic,' another commented. ‘That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,' I informed them. ‘Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,' Ursula griped. ‘In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?' Hayden countered. ‘He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because He values our traditions.' ‘He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,' Hayden lectured the room. ‘Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?' ‘He said 'What. Had enough already?'‘ she snorted. ‘Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.' ‘This is not a humorous matter,' Egypt Senior was still cranky. ‘I don't know about that,' Saint Marie reposed. ‘I found it to be fun actually.' ‘Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,' Saint Marie continued. ‘Pity he missed you,' Messina glared. ‘He didn't miss me, Messina,' Saint Marie sneered. ‘I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He's not disloyal, just pugnacious.' ‘What of Arinniti's crime?' Beyoncé prodded. She wasn't feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn't let go of the fact they'd lost. That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina's goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented. If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was screwed. Let's not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain. A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti's 'omission' of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash' brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren't erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons. I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly' Amazons shot me a remark. ‘I supposed you are elated,' she grumbled. ‘Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you'll have an inkling of how I feel,' I smiled serenely. ‘You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,' she got truly pissy. ‘Lady, I won't be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,' I kept smiling. ‘Until then, I'm afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,' I added. ‘Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?' she salivated at the prospect. ‘Sure. I'll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I'll meet you downtown at noon,' I proposed. It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They'd have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch. "Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds - in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed," Hayden instructed. "Thank you. I appreciate that," my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth. "My judgment wasn't for you, Cáel. You've caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us," Hayden gave me a truly serene response. "Give me a little time to prepare." "Oh! Great idea," I exclaimed. "Gotta go!" and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun. "Should I shoot him?" Elsa suggested. "Only to slow him down a bit." I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter. I caught one of the 'hater' juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly. "Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff," I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over. Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme. "What did you do that for?" her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn't knock the device out of my hands. "I don't know," she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back. "Your 'apprentice' has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts," I nodded gravely. "What is your name?" "Gale," she batted her eyelashes. "What did I do?" "What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?" I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. "I'll explain it then." "You may not spend time with this...person," Senior insisted. "We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House," Gale countered. Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat - yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I'd introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy's room until I got Gale warmed up after all. I was the first one of the 'team' to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina's office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk. "Is this going to be really bad, or really good?" Desiree mused. "Why should you have to choose?" I laughed. "Besides, we are aiming for epic status today." "Why are we here?" Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!' moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn't given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass. "Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry," I looked at her expectantly. "My pleasure," Desiree rocked up from her seat. "Slapping then knife?" I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered. "Can anyone join?" Buffy asked Paula. "I...I don't think so," Paula shook her head. "He's got a plan. I don't know what for." I dodged Desiree's final swing. I had gathered enough tears - I hoped. "That was truly therapeutic, Cáel," Desiree stated. "Let me know if you need a repeat performance." She handed me her small knife. Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens. "Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages," I requested. "What the hell?" Buffy growled. "What is this about?" "Trust me," I met her gaze. "Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he's not crazy. He's up to something," Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina's desk. "Come forth and kneel before me," I commanded. This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm...Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost...I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes. "There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz," I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. "With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors." That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy's eyes evaporated. I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits. "With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield," I met her gaze. She started crying. "You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth," I continued on. "You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts." Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking', the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later. "House Ishara is dead," Daphne stated the obvious. "Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House," I started. I motioned for my two House-mates...members to rise. "The Second Betrayal," Violet interrupted. "Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me - being here - today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too," I recalled recent edited events. "By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or..." I continued. "The eldest of the house," Daphne gasped. "Since Ishara is...since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host." "You don't have to be a female?" Desiree muttered. "That's insane. We are Amazons." "There hasn't been a male in the host for over 2500 years," I explained. "It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren't enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female' was redundant." "That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd," Paula muttered. We all looked at her. "What? Since I met Cáel, I've been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall." "Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory," I lied. "So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?" Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years. "Why do you think I called Buffy first?" I snickered. "I won't let you down," Buffy declared with grim determination. "Calm down, Buffy," I assured her. "I don't think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They've already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation." "So why did you pick me...and Helena?" Buffy studied me. "Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know," I told her. "You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next." "Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around," Buffy's eyes grew bright. "Which reminds me - can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two," I begged my 'new hire' companions. "I'll take two nights a week," Daphne offered. "I'll take one night," Paula added. "I'll take a fourth," Violet completed the set. "Damn it," Desiree cursed. "This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors." "You are right," Buffy gasped. "I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now." "One note - I don't vote," I informed them. "I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I'm keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights." Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life - only traditions - they had ever known and I had sacrificed something of importance to them out of respect to their sensibilities. "Cáel's decision makes it easier for you, Buffy and Helena," Daphne explained. "This allows the other Heads of House to get used to him being there - less of a culture shock," she continued. "In a few years he may end up getting a vote anyway as they learn to respect him and House Ishara. You are one of the First Houses - reborn, I imagine." Buffy's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. "Yeah Buff," Desiree shook her head. "One of the first twenty war leaders of the Host. You have the blood of Mycenaean warriors on your hands." "Cáel, I..." Buffy began. "I gave you nothing, Buffy. If you think there is someone more deserving than you, please point them out," I touched her tear-drenched cheek. "I do want something from you," I said compassionately. Buffy was attentive. "I want you to undergo a sex change operation and become a real woman." Ow! Buffy punched me. "Buffy, you might not want to damage your House Head in public. It is bad for his prestige," Paula pointed out. "Good point," Buffy frowned. "Cáel - bathroom - now." "Uh-oh, no way, no how," I back-pedaled. "Today has been painful enough. I had a run in with some Security Detail and House Guard on the way to the podium." "What did they do to you?" Helena inquired. "For starters, they haven't given me back my valise," I complained. "Also, who do I report these additions to House Ishara to? Finally, Buffy promised me she'd wear a thong and those little, circular Band-Aids if I got her into the Full-blooded gym again." "Decorum, Buffy," Desiree stopped Buffy from punishing me. "Decorum." "Why don't you have to behave?" Buffy glared at me. "I'm the ghost of a man dead for over 2500 years," I winked. "I'm allowed to be eccentric." "I'll start calling around to find out who gets told what and where your stuff is Cáel," Helena grinned. She was full-blooded now; the goal of every Runner who joined. "What is next for you now?" Daphne questioned. "I imagine I have a job to do," I replied. "I mean, Katrina works and she's head of House Epona. I'm an intern, just like I was yesterday. That hasn't changed." "Oh goodie," Buffy smacked her hands together, "you can still work for me." "Oh - yay," I groaned sarcastically. "What's wrong now?" Katrina said as she waltzed into the room. I caught sight of a few SD chicks hanging around outside. "There are for your protection if you feel you need it." "Nah," I shook my head. "I have that taken care of. I brought Buffy and Helena into House Ishara." Katrina stopped and looked at me. There was definitely some tension between us. "You might want to consult with - others before you do something like that again," Katrina cautioned me. "I'll definitely consider your offer. For now, I chose the best for the future of Ishara," I said, "as is my duty and responsibility." We locked gazes once more. Things had changed between us. They had to have. "I seem to have missed my Firing Range practice today as well as the morning meeting," I reminded Katrina. She'd known what fate awaited me when I walked in the door and not warned me. I didn't blame her. That was what she was looking for - the anger. Before, I couldn't have acted on it. "Cáel, get dressed. I saw Helena running off on some sort of errand which I imagine is your fault, so you are working with Daphne for the rest of the day," Katrina resumed her pace to her desk. She examined the nearly empty glass. "My tears," I answered. "It is part of my ritual for induction into House Ishara." In case you missed it, I never said 'my house'. This was on purpose. As long as I made no open claim to such a lofty spot, they could ignore me hanging around a bit better. "You may want to talk with House Arinniti, or Šauška about such rites," Katrina advised. "He burned their old names to ash, scored their left cheeks with his tears to remind them of his ancestors and mixed his blood with theirs so they would be known to all as members of House Ishara from this day forth," Daphne related. "It was very touching - simple and to the point." "That's Cáel for you, simple and straight to the cultural jugular," Katrina shook her head. "He did nothing wrong," Buffy protested. I was getting dressed. "Buffy, I have wanted to initiate you into House Epona for years. Family politics have prevented that. Sixty years after the First Initiative, fewer than a fifty 'Runners' have been brought into the Host. Mutual condemnation has kept each house in check - restrained from recruiting new blood into the Host." "And now we have Cáel," Desiree groaned. "Who does care not one bit about social ramifications of bringing a hundred runners into one of the oldest houses of the Host," Daphne sighed. "But, we deserve this," Buffy proclaimed. "That, Buffy, is the point and the problem - you and others like you do deserve it," Katrina fondly regarded her 'now-Full-blooded' friend. "Most of the other houses would disagree though, but they won't be able to convince Cáel of this - thus begins the next quagmire of Cáel's creation." It was the prejudice laid bare. The 'Runners' knew they had very little chance of being accepted into a House. They had a long history of neglect to look back on. The few who had graduated had been virtually superhuman to be accepted. Then I came along. Suddenly, for some of the best and brightest of the 'Runners' there was a serious likelihood they could be brought into a highly prestigious House, because its leader was a nutjob. This morning, when the meeting adjourned, House Ishara had been a tiny blip on the Council's radars. Those women so disregarded the 'Runners' they hadn't even thought about my reaction to the dilemma of the miniscule size of my house, despite the answer being all around them (though safely contained upstairs in their minds). House Ishara with a lone member, a male at that, wasn't a threat - not really. The specter that Katrina foresaw was something different. She saw a House Ishara with a thousand members, and all hardened, dedicated and trained Amazons - formerly 'Runners'. Loyal to me?

At what point did the concept of civilization and civilizations emerge? In what ways  do we know that societies were mingling and exchanging ideas and objects with each other? How were the Crusades responsible for our culture's current sugar obsession?Josephine Quinn is a Professor of Ancient History at the University of Oxford, and the author of several books, including her latest work How the World Made the West: A 4,000 Year History and also In Search of the Phoenicians.Greg and Josephine discuss the challenges and insights from piecing together 4,000 years of global history, and digging into the concept of 'civilizational thinking' and its origins. Josephine explains how civilizations intertwine through war, trade, and cultural exchange, and also highlights how modern perspectives shape our understanding of past human interactions. They also discuss the subject of another of Josephine's books and unpack the significant yet often misunderstood impact of Phoenicians and other early civilizations on today's world.*unSILOed Podcast is produced by University FM.*Show Links:Recommended Resources:PhoeniciaAge of DiscoveryCrusadesLevantHerodotusOttoman EmpireMinoan civilizationArthur EvansKnossosHeinrich SchliemannBarlaam and JosaphatAbbasid CaliphateThe Invention of TraditionZoroastrianismFernand BraudelGuest Profile:Faculty Profile at the University of OxfordWikipedia ProfileSocial Profile on InstagramHer Work:Amazon Author PageHow the World Made the West: A 4,000 Year HistoryIn Search of the PhoeniciansThe Punic Mediterranean: Identities and Identification from Phoenician Settlement to Roman RuleThe Hellenistic West: Rethinking the Ancient MediterraneanThe Rise and Fall of the Classical World: 2500 BC - 600 ADEpisode Quotes:Tracing the roots of civilizational thinking 10:52: One of the things I really want people to take away from my book is that war is one of the most effective modes of communication that people have. But all the same, depended on fundamental notion of similarity between peoples. [11:36] But around 1500, what's happening with this European expansion is to me, a very radical change in that, at the same time as Europeans are engaging in mass conversions to Christianity overseas, they're expelling the significant Jewish and Muslim populations from Europe itself. And so, it's creating a, sort of, us and them situation. Basically for the first time, a significant scale, I mean, things like that happen on a smaller scale and throughout history in all societies but I think this is really, in terms of a global history, something really quite new. And so, to me, it is the roots of that civilizational thinking that gets fully articulated a few hundred years later, starting in the 18th century. The idea of continents is fictional and is used by other geographers to create divisions in their works. 17:01: The idea of continents is a fascinating one to me. It goes back, in fact, to ancient Greek-speaking scientists who are working on the coast of what's now Turkey, very much in touch with what was going on in the big intellectual centers of antiquity, like Babylon, with Egyptian scientists, and so on. But we don't have any evidence that anybody else thought about the world in terms of continents. But they invented it with some geographers, and it was a kind of label. It wasn't a sort of major concept. One of my favorite commentaries is by another Greek historian, Herodotus. I say Greek-speaking. He also was from Anatolia, grew up in Persian lands, but he says, Well, people say that there are these three continents, and they're all named after women: Europa, Asia, Libya, [the] Greek term for what we now say—Africa, but I think this is nonsense. I mean, people don't even know where they begin and end. And, of course, that's right. I mean, some continents exist. The America exists. Australia exists. But Europe, Asia, and Africa?Why do people care about the heterogeneity of origins of things in the modern world?43:05 This is the big question, isn't it? Do people have an investment in the idea of a pure West that is facing pollution or even replacement from the outside right now? I think it's the same kind of question. And I think part of it is just that that's an easier way to think. It offers certainty. I think certainty is a terribly attractive thing but the problem is that human history isn't certain. It's fuzzy and complicated and if there's one thing that I would love people who read this book to think harder about, it's the idea of heritage. I think heritage is often seen as a very positive thing in the world today. But actually, I feel like there's a danger that people invest in a collective past at the expense of a collective present. And that, I think, is quite dangerous. But it is much easier to read things than it is to have conversations.The idea of the Minoan and Mycenaean civilizations as two separate cultures is a historical typo.The whole idea of Minoan and Mycenaean are basically just two rival labels of two basically warring groups of archaeologists about exactly the same thing. It's like a historical typo that people now think of them as different.

The Greek Dark Age, spanning roughly from 1100 to 750 BC, marks a mysterious chapter in the history of ancient Greece. Characterized by a sharp decrease in population, the abandonment of the once might Mycenaean palatial centers, disruption of trade networks, the loss of literacy and a steep decline in artistic endeavors, this time period was generally one of economic hardship and political fragmentation. However, amidst the darkness there were pockets of prosperity and social changes that eventually allowed for the rise of powerful Greek city-states and the dawn of Archaic Greek civilization.Contents:00:00 Introduction and Context02:50 What was the Greek Dark Age08:36 Greece enters the Iron Age09:59 Greece starts to Recover11:15 Chiefs and Chiefdoms15:51 The Geometric Period17:35 The Greek Alphabet18:33 Panhellenism21:53 Thank You and PatronsSupport the Show.

Thaao Penghlis is a legendary actor who appeared on "Days Of Our Lives", "General Hospital", "Mission Impossible", and more. Yet he is also an intellectually curious person, and put together a mini-series on the archaeology of Homer's Greece. In ArtiFact 62, writer and filmmaker Alex Sheremet speaks with Thaao about Homer's "Iliad", the nature of cultural memory, and controversies surrounding Greek archaeology. You can also watch this discussion on our YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnNGWHmNrBg Listen to Thaao Penghlis's "Lost Treasures" on Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/thaao-penghliss-the-lost-treasures/id1705933001 If you found this video useful, support us on Patreon and get patron-only content: https://www.patreon.com/automachination Learn about and contribute to our first film, "From There To There: Bruce Ario, the Minneapolis Poet": https://www.gofundme.com/f/new-film-the-minneapolis-poet-bruce-ario Subscribe to the ArtiFact podcast on Spotify: https://spoti.fi/3xw2M4D Apple Podcasts: https://apple.co/3wLpqEV Google Podcasts: https://bit.ly/3dSQXxJ Amazon Music: https://amzn.to/2SVJIxB Podbean: https://bit.ly/3yzLuUo iHeartRadio: https://ihr.fm/3AK942L Read more from the automachination universe: https://automachination.com Read Alex Sheremet's (archived) essays: https://alexsheremet.com Follow us on Twitter: https://twitter.com/automachination Timestamps: 1:24 – introducing Thaao Penghlis's “Lost Treasures” podcast; Thaao's boyish desire to be an archaeologist; cultures which “don't steal”; the spoken word & pre-literate cultures; human memory & the Trojan War; Heinrich Schliemann 8:28 – how time levels what is least important; the longevity of Homer, the Iliad, and the Odyssey; why Thaao Penghlis was drawn to Homer & Homeric archaeology; Thaao: a country without a culture dies; when Thaao found ancient treasure in a tomb; Homer as the beating heart of Greek culture; the Greek respect for what's ancient 15:48 – Alex: Homer was probably a writer, not illiterate; Thaao: Homer delivered a point of view; the nature of theater & theatrics; Ithaca as metaphor; the relevance of Homer's blindness; Thaao's on Barack Obama's oratory; superficial distractions; why Thaao Penghlis stopped doing Days of Our Lives 23:38 – Alex: Greek mythology has been simplified for a pop audience; why Aphrodite is not the goddess of love; the Iliad does not give one much backstory; Helen was stolen by Paris as well as by her former husband, Menelaus; the amorality of ancient Greece; Hector's wife, Andromache, describes ancient ethics; the child-like depiction of Achilles; the startling lack of heroes & heroics in Homer's Iliad 32:27 – Homer's indirect storytelling; Thaao: the Greeks did not go to war over a woman, but the development of steel; America's War in Iraq vs. the Trojan War; intellect in Odysseus; why women as property might still explain war in an anarchic system 38:27 – Achilles and the death of his male lover, Patroclus; Athens vs. Mycenaean Greece; Heinrich Schliemann & the Mycenaean tombs 42:30 – Thaao Penghlis: when I touched Schliemann's documents and palace, it finally felt real; Homer's Greece and the Italian Renaissance 47:55 – was Heinrich Schliemann merely an impressive conman; Schliemann's romantic entanglements; Schliemann as Pygmalion; Thaao: every rich businessperson (and politician) deals with fraud; Schliemann's Orientalism in neglecting Turkish history in favor of “Greek” relics; Germans stole Greek relics, then Russians stole them back 56:00 – how Russia and Iran take war booty; why transitioning away from Putin won't help Russia; Alex's thoughts on Thaao's podcast; taking the difficult path in the arts and art education; Hollywood's bastardization of Greek mythos; Thaao on superficiality in the showbiz world; “Lawrence of Arabia” is “too slow” for the young; how Woody Allen taught Alex about avoiding relationship mistakes Tags: #tv #literature #greece #poetry #ancient #epic

Rafah bombings, P.E.I. foreign workers, Mycenaean armour, Toronto Jewish girls' school, Papua New Guinea landslides, Philippines golden rice ban, and more.

Show Notes:Toxic Toadyhttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/ohmtowndaily/f/d/florida-pet-owners-warned-of-invasive-toad-highly-toxic/EV and Pedestrians meethttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/ohmtowndaily/f/d/electric-cars-fuel-rise-in-pedestrian-crashes-new-study-finds/Century Old Train Shaped Weathervanehttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/primeglass/f/d/stolen-century-old-train-shaped-weathervane-returned-to-authorities-in-vermont/Mycenaean Marine Combathttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/mobble/f/d/marines-fought-each-other-in-ancient-mycenaean-armor-to-see-how-well-it-worked/Intermittent Hood Featurehttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/four-wheel-tech/f/d/lamborghini-recalls-200000-suvs-to-fix-hoods-that-may-fly-open/Congratulations you're suspendedhttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/technologytoday/f/d/emory-university-awarded-two-students-10000-for-their-ai-study-tool-then-suspended-them/Outdated NFL Finally Changeshttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/ohmtowndaily/f/d/nfl-finally-working-to-eliminate-outdated-way-of-measuring-first-downs/Huge Busthttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/ohmtowndaily/f/d/customs-authorities-bust-woman-who-taped-87-trafficked-animals-to-body/Stock Trading Dialing Wandhttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/stockmarketeers/f/d/a-citi-trader-intending-to-sell-58-million-of-shares-ended-up-selling-1-4-billion-now-the-bank-has-been-fined/OpenAI to pay for News Corps Newshttps://www.ohmtown.com/groups/wanted/f/d/openai-will-reportedly-pay-250-million-to-put-news-corps-journalism-in-chatgpt-2/

In dieser Folge darf ich euch einige Mykener:innen vorstellen. Diese Individuen haben nachweislich existiert und führen uns ein in die mykenische Gesellschaft ein. Wir lernen Beamte, Landbesitzer, Arbeiter:innen, Priesterinnen sowie Sklav:innen kennen. Sie zeigen uns, dass die mykenische Gesellschaft und der Staat nicht nur klar strukturiert und gegliedert war, sondern vermutlich auch ein starkes hierarchisches Gefälle herrschte. Quellen Aprile, Crafts, Specialists, and Markets in Mycenaean Greece (…), 2013 Beckmann/Bryce/Cline, Writings from the Ancient World (…), 2012 Beckmann, The Ahhiyawa texts, 2011 Beeks, Etymological Dictionary of Greek, 2010 Best, The Language of Linear A, 2010 Bryce, The Trojans & their Neighbors, 2006 Chadwick, Mycenaean World, 1976 Cline, The Trojan War (…), 2013 Colvin, A Brief History of Ancient Greek, 2014 Deger-jalkotzy, Ancient Greece (…), 2006 Duhoux, A companion to Linear B (…), 2008 Efkleidou, Slavery & Dependent Personell in Linear B Archives of Mainland Greece, 2004 Felder, Mycenaean Citadels c. 1350–1200 BC, 2004 Ferdinand, Die Ahhijava-Urkunden (…), 1975 (Archiviert 2018) Forrer, Vorhomerische Griechen in den Keilschrifttexten von Boghazköiu, 1924 (online einlesbar) Ebd., Forschungen I/2, 1929 Grottanelli, Encyclopedia of Religion (…), 2005 Gurney, The authorship if the Tawagalawas Letter, 2002 Heinhold-Krahmer, Untersuchungen zu Piyamaradu, 1983 & 1986 Hoffer, Letters from the Hittite Kingdom, 2009 Kelder, The Kingdom of Mycenae (…), 2010 Lidell, An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon (Perseus Project) Morris, A Tale of Two Cities, 1989 Musgrave/Neave/Prag/Musgrave/Thimme, Seven Faces from Grave Circle B at Mycenae, 1998 Palaima, The Nature of the Mycenaean wanax (…), 1995 Papadopoulos, Greek Protohistories, 2018 Raymore, Minoan Linear A & Mycenaean Linear B, 2017 (Archive) Schachermeyer, Mykene und das Hethiterreich, 1986 Schofield, Mykene (…), 2009 Shelmerdine, Mycenaean Society, 2010 Singer, Purple-Fyers in Lazpa, 2009 Tausend, Bemerkungen zur Identifikation der Ahhijaqa, 2012 Thomas, The Components of Political Identity in Mycenaean Greece, 1995 Wright, A survey of Evidence for Feasting in Mycenaean Society, 2004 Damaos in Database of Mycenaean at Oslo (University of Oslo) Wanasa & Wanax bei Palaeolexicon Mycenaean Society bei Worldhistory

Episode 254 – Archeology and the Bible – Part 9 – As Old As the Bible Welcome to Anchored by Truth brought to you by Crystal Sea Books. In John 14:6, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” The goal of Anchored by Truth is to encourage everyone to grow in the Christian faith by anchoring themselves to the secure truth found in the inspired, inerrant, and infallible word of God. Script: The LORD possessed me [wisdom] at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of old. Ages ago I was set up, at the first, before the beginning of the earth. Proverbs, Chapter 8, verses 22 and 23, English Standard Version ******** VK: Greetings. Welcome to Anchored by Truth brought to you by Crystal Sea Books. I’m Victoria K. This is our 9th episode in a series that we are doing on archeology and the Bible. We’re 9 episodes into this brief overview of just a few of the thousands of archeological discoveries that support the accuracy of the Bible’s text. So often today we hear critics attempt to label the Bible as a book that has little connection to the real world. But when reviewed objectively it is obvious that the Bible is a book that is firmly set in time and place. And as a book set in time and place it is demonstrable that the human history that the Bible chooses to report is accurate. And archeology is very supportive of the Bible’s historical trustworthiness. That’s why we wanted to do this series. To help us continue to explore this topic, in the studio today we have RD Fierro. RD is an author and the founder of Crystal Sea Books. RD, today you said you wanted to begin to wrap up the series. So, what do you want listeners to begin to think about as we think about the series as a whole? RD: Well, before we begin our summary I’d also like to greet everyone and welcome them to Anchored by Truth. As we have stressed throughout this series archeology is the study of the past. And the vast majority of archeological interest pertains to times and dates that occurred long before anyone currently living was alive. This means that anyone attempting to glean information about the past from archeological finds and artifacts is always looking at evidence that is available in the present and interpreting it. This is going to be true whether the person making the interpretation is a Christian or non-Christian. This means that it is likely and reasonable for similarly qualified experts to disagree on what a particular find means or tells us. In other words, we cannot obtain the same degree of certainty about past events from archeological science that we can from branches of operational science where the replication of results is possible. This certainly doesn’t mean that rigor and discipline aren’t possible in archeology. They are. And it doesn’t mean that we can’t rule certain possible explanations in or out based on the application of evidence and reason. But it does mean that alternative explanations are possible in many situations and we must therefore be prepared to sort among those explanations. VK: What you’re saying is that as Christians we must always be aware that – no matter how convincing a Biblical explanation may be for a find, artifact, or site – that we must be aware that other explanations for that same evidence are possible. And we must be prepared to deal with those alternative non-Biblical explanations because the world is going to consider those explanations. Because if we can’t intelligently discuss why the Christian explanation is at least as reasonable as the non-Christian alternative we will be far less effective in our witness for Christ in the public arena. In other words, we have to know what “the other side” believes and we must be prepared to engage their arguments – kindly, compassionately, and sensibly – but firmly. RD: Right. The old saying is that “there are two sides to every story.” But, while the saying has some truth to it that does not mean that each side is equally credible or reasonable. So, one of the things we need to talk about as we wrap up our series is to give a couple of examples where there are competing explanations for archeological sites that are the subject of Biblical accounts. VK: Where do you want to start? RD: Well, we spent the last couple of episodes of Anchored by Truth talking about the city of Jericho especially about God’s miraculous intervention in the Hebrews’ conquest of it at the end of their wilderness wanderings. VK: This is the well-known story found in the book of Joshua, chapter 6. The Hebrews encountered Jericho just after crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land. Militarily the Hebrews needed to conquer Jericho but it was a walled and heavily fortified town. And the Hebrews did not have the kind of siege equipment necessary to breach those kind of walls – at least not quickly. But, fortunately they didn’t have to. As God directed, they marched around the walls once a day for 6 days. Then, on the 7th day they marched around the walls 7 times, shouted, and the walls fell down. And, while we won’t go over the evidence that supports that account again – because we covered it in our two previous episodes – we will note that there is substantial archeological evidence that supports the Biblical account. RD: Yes. There’s an abundance of archeological evidence that Jericho was located where the Bible says it was, at one time had large and imposing walls, and that the walls did in fact “fall down flat” as the English Standard Version puts it. Several excavators have determined that most of the walls collapsed flat likely due to an earthquake. But even though these facts are well known one topic that is hotly debated is when the walls fell down. There are various dating options for when the Exodus occurred and therefore when Jericho fell to Joshua. We don’t have time to go into all the options but there are two that often talked about – to so-called late date for the exodus and the early date for the exodus. VK: So, the most commonly accepted date for the exodus in scholarly circles is the late date. That’s the dating theory that was used in Cecil B. Demille’s famous movie, The Ten Commandments, starring Charlton Heston as Moses. What time period is in view for the late date? RD: Around 1290 BC. This would be referred to as early in the 13th century BC. VK: And what time period is in view for the early date? RD: Around 1445 or 1446 BC – about a hundred years earlier. This is the date that is arrived at by calculating the time periods that are referenced in the Bible in verses such as 1 Kings, chapter 6, verse 1. VK: That verse in the English Standard Version reads: “In the four hundred and eightieth year after the people of Israel came out of the land of Egypt, in the fourth year of Solomon’s reign over Israel, in the … the second month, [Solomon] began to build the house of the LORD.” RD: Yes. We know that Solomon’s reign as king of Israel began in 970 BC. That means his 4th year would have been 966 BC. That means that 480 years earlier would have been 1446 BC. But let’s remember that the Hebrew calendar is not the same as the Gregorian calendar that we use today. So, they didn’t use a January to December year. Also, in the Bible some numbers may have been rounded off. So, allowing for those factors orthodox, conservative Christian scholars have usually placed the date for the start of the exodus between 1447 BC and 1442 BC. It’s common to refer to Joshua’s conquest of Jericho as taking place late in the 15th century BC. VK: The 15th century BC began in the year 1500 BC and ended in the year 1401 BC. RD: Right. So, while there may be agreement on the fact that at some time around in the distant past the walls of Jericho did collapse as the Bible describes, there is a very clear division of opinion on exactly when the walls fell down. VK: So, a Bible critic may acknowledge that there is archeological evidence that is consistent with major portions of chapter 6 of the book of Joshua but then immediately turn around and say the Bible still isn’t trustworthy because it got dates wrong. And as we started out saying, all any present day investigator can do is look at the available evidence and then interpret what that says about things like ancient dates. It’s not as though anybody 3,300 or 3,400 years ago chiseled dates into the sides of buildings to make it easier to assign precise dates. RD: No, they didn’t. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t have some tools that can help us resolve our dating dilemma. And while we don’t have time to discuss all the ways dating is accomplished for archeological sites let’s just mention a couple. First, we can look to see what information can be gleaned from artifacts that are found at a site. Often, even if there aren’t written records that contain helpful references there may be jewelry, coins, or other decorative items that provide clues as to when that item was being used. This is particularly true with pottery pieces or even shards. It has been common throughout human history to decorate items even ones used for practical purposes like jars or lamps. And, just as today, decorative styles come and go. And since pottery is a lot more durable that items made out of cloth or paper pottery is often present at a site even hundreds or thousands of years after it was in use. In the case of excavations at the city of Jericho over 100,000 pottery fragments have been unearthed. VK: So, what do the pottery fragments found at Jericho tell us? RD: The pottery fragments favor the early date theory. This is because there is almost no pottery fragments at Jericho that are what would be labeled Mycenaean. As we mentioned in other episodes of Anchored by Truth Mycenae is another name for the region we think of as Greece. The Mycenaeans were a sea faring people and traveled widely including to the eastern coast of the Mediterranean which is where Israel is. As a consequence their pottery is found all over the Mediterranean coastal lands. And it began to appear in Palestine from about 1400 BC onward. Therefore, if the conquest of Jericho had been around 1290 BC as the late date theory posits then there should have been plenty of Mycenaean pottery fragments present. But there aren’t. The early date theory explains this absence easily. The Hebrews conquered Jericho before Mycenaean pottery became commonplace in Palestine. By 1290 Mycenaean pottery would had been circulating in Palestine for over 100 years. So, its absence at Jericho is hard to reconcile with the late date theory. VK: How about other artifacts found at Jericho? What do they tell us about whether the late date theory or the early date theory is most likely to be correct? RD: There are other archeological findings that point strongly to the early date. For instance, Palestine in the 15th century BC was connected to Egypt. Remember that at this time Egypt was the dominant power in that region. The Egyptians had mines and other economic interests in Palestine. Trade between the two regions was extensive. One common item that circulated in those days was scarabs. VK: According to the Wikipedia entry “Scarabs are beetle-shaped amulets and impression seals which were widely popular throughout ancient Egypt. They still survive in large numbers today. Through their inscriptions and typology, they prove to be an important source of information for archaeologists and historians of the ancient world, and represent a significant body of ancient Egyptian art.” In other words, scarabs were like modern jewelry pieces. They were valuable and therefore were not thrown away or destroyed. They are frequently found in graves with their owners. Like some modern jewelry items they often contained images of royalty. Think about things like commemorative lockets made for the various milestones of Queen Elizabeth’s long reign. So, as the Wikipedia quote states, by looking at the images contained on scarabs we can get an idea about when they were produced and in circulation. What do the scarabs found at Jericho tell us? RD: One of the best known archeologists who did extensive excavations at Jericho is John Garstang. After years after his excavations of a cemetery at Jericho not a single scarab was found that could be dated later than the reign of Pharaoh Amenhotep III who reigned from 1412 BC to 1376 BC. VK: We probably should remind our listeners that in the time before the birth of Jesus the years are frequently labeled “BC” which simply means “before Christ.” Since these yearly designations get smaller as you approach the birth of Jesus the larger numbers are actually farther back in time. This is the opposite of how we assign annual dates today where it’s the smaller numbers that are older. So, for the years before Christ 1412 BC is older than 1376 BC. It can be easy to get confused. RD: That’s a good note. So, Pharaoh Amenhotep III began his reign in 1412 BC and it lasted for 36 years. That’s plenty of time in which his cartouche would have put on decorative items. VK: A cartouche is just a common graphic symbol. It’s an oval with a line at one end and it indicates that the name that is found within the oval is a royal name. RD: Right. So, the absence of any scarabs with the cartouches of any pharaohs later than Amenhotep III means that later pharaohs weren’t known or represented at that site. That would be very strange if the late date theory was correct. The late date theory says that the pharaoh at the time of the exodus was Ramses II and there were a lot of pharaohs between Amenhotep III and Ramses II. This is a strong indicator that the early date theory about the date of the exodus and the destruction of Jericho by Joshua is correct. VK: So, the really big point that we want to make by this discussion is that there may be competing explanations about how to correctly date events from the past. And even though no one living was present then we can look at the evidence available in the present and make reasoned determinations about which explanation is most likely to be true. And one way to do that is look at finds and artifacts and see what they tell us about what was going on in the world at that time. Who was in power? What trade was occurring? What building techniques were available and in use? Are there any written records from the period? Information can be gleaned from any sources. And, of course, some people will say that scientific measurements such radiocarbon dating can be helpful. Well, how about radiocarbon dating? Isn’t it frequently used to assign dates to ancient sites and artifacts? RD: It is, but there are a lot of problems with radiocarbon dating which are well known in the scientific community. Radiocarbon dating depends on determining the ratio present in a specimen between carbon-14, which is radioactive, and carbon-12 which is not. We don’t have time today to go into all of the details of how carbon-14 is formed but here are a couple of big points. Radiocarbon dating can only be used on organic residue such as wooden artifacts because it must be absorbed by a living entity to be present at all. Next, radiocarbon dating depends on certain baseline assumptions which are unprovable. Third, the rate of formation of carbon-14 is affected by the strength of the earth’s magnetic shield which is known to decline through time. As such, the farther back in time we go – especially as we get closer to the flood of Noah – the more adjustments are necessary to compensate for the stronger magnetic shield. The net result of these issues – and there are others – is that, as you said, radiocarbon dates are assigned not measured. Radiocarbon dating can be a useful tool for certain things like determining relative dates but it has limitations in assigning absolute dates. VK: In other words we simply don’t possess all of the information that would be necessary to precisely calculate a date by measuring the ratio of one substance and compare it to another. We can never be sure what the starting ratio was unless somebody had been there who reported it – which is never going to happen with archeology. We can never be sure about whether assumed formation rates are accurate or whether contamination occurred at some point. Dates assigned by measuring ratios of various elements often differ by tens of thousands or even millions of years. In such cases the scientists will often dismiss dates that don’t conform to their expectations but this just amounts to selecting data that reinforces an original hypothesis or bias. RD: Right. Radiocarbon dating can be helpful for certain purposes but it is sometimes offered as if it settles all dating questions of ancient finds. It doesn’t and can’t. It rests on unprovable assumptions. This doesn’t mean it must be dismissed. It means we should bear its limitations in mind when it is used to offer evidence. The point that we want to drive home today is Christians must be prepared to hear explanations for archeological finds that the world will tell us “disprove the Bible.” But we need not accept such claims on face value. Certainly one of the best known explorers who did excavation at Jericho was an archeologist named Kathleen Kenyon. She disagreed with Garstang’s findings about the correct dating of the ruins at Tell-el-Sultan which is normally agreed to be the site of ancient Jericho. One reason she disagreed with Garstang was that she said the pottery shards she found in the collapsed wall that is believed to belong to the Joshua conquest were not from the mid-15th century BC. VK: In ancient times, and even today, when builders are building walls they will throw scraps of unusable building material as part of fill. The builder knows the fill won’t be seen. So, it doesn’t matter whether its broken concrete, metal scraps, or old pieces of pottery. That’s a common building practice today and it was in ancient times. So, we can derive some dating information about when a structure was built if we find scraps that have some identifying information. Someone who tore down a fireplace and found a coin that had fallen into the cement would know the latest date the fireplace was built. But it seems to mean that Kenyon’s conclusion doesn’t necessarily follow her observation. There are houses in America that date from the Revolutionary War period that are still standing today 250 years later than they were built. If one of those houses fell over today it’s walls are still going to be composed of building material from 1776. The fact that the walls fell in the 21st century doesn’t change that the fallen material was from 250 years ago. RD: That’s a very good observation. And it illustrates that we have to think carefully through the conclusions that are drawn from evidence. The evidence may be consistent with multiple and varying conclusions. Then we will have to look at other evidence to see if we can determine which of those conclusions is most accurate. VK: And you say we need to be particularly vigilant when we examine conclusions about the dating of ancient ruins or artifacts. RD: Right. Here’s a simple example. If you do an internet search on the oldest buildings in the world you will find that are a few buildings dated by secular science to be several thousand years older than the date the Bible tells us the great flood occurred. Often the reason the ruins are dated older is by using radiocarbon dating. But as we just discussed radiocarbon dating has real problems for assigning absolute (not relative) dates. So, if we step back from the radiocarbon dates we find that it is at least as likely, if not more likely, that all of the ruins that are assigned these pre-flood dates were actually built after the flood. VK: In other words the question that occurs is whether the evidence from these sites is just as consistent with being built after the flood as before. RD: Yes. So, let’s think about this for a second. Some of these sites display a remarkable degree of mathematical precision in their layout and construction. Yet, conventional science says that the people at that time were all hunter-gatherers. Why would people living off hunting game and gathering food from plants that grow wild all of a sudden divert a great deal of effort into building large structures that had no relevance to how they stayed alive. Isn’t it at least just as probable that these structures were built by people who had descended from a family that possessed a sophisticated knowledge of building techniques and who were now occupying land that was completely free of groups or tribes? VK: Noah built a huge ark that survived a great flood. And we know from the Bible that Adam’s earliest descendants founded cities, worked with metal, and even made musical instruments. Said differently, rather than human beings having to learn everything by trial-and-error the human race was started with the kind of knowledge to build sophisticated structures. RD: Yes. And then there’s the whole question of why – if the modern human race had been in existence for hundreds of thousands of years – all of a sudden one day they began building these complicated buildings and complexes. Remember there is absolutely no evidence in the world of human sites that existed tens of thousands of years ago. Dinosaur bones supposedly survived intact for millions of years. So, even if humans 20,000 or 50,000 years ago had built homes or communities it seems probable that some evidence would have survived. The evidence from the most ancient structures we know about on earth fits in very well with a Biblical narrative but runs into some significant difficulties with the secular explanation. VK: And that is why we all need to know a little bit about archeology. There’s an old saying that “you better teach your kids about faith. Otherwise the only faith they will know will be what comes from the world.” Archeology may or may not interest us as a subject. But we must know enough to be able to help our kids understand and avoid the pits the world will put in their path. Knowing a little bit about archeology can help with this greater goal. God has given us ample evidence that His word is true. But He expects us to exercise our minds and wills to become familiar with the evidence and to incorporate into our lives and faith. This sounds like a time to go to God in prayer. Today let’s listen to a prayer for our nation. The Bible tells us that we are to be good citizens of the nation in which we find ourselves. And certainly part of doing that is to work for the common good, pray for our communities and states, and encourage everyone to grow in godliness. Only a Godly people will persevere and prevail in a fallen creation. ---- PRAYER FOR THE NATION VK: We’d like to remind our audience that a lot of our radio episodes are linked together in series of topics so if they missed any episodes or if they just want to hear one again, all of these episodes are available on your favorite podcast app. To find them just search on “Anchored by Truth by Crystal Sea Books.” If you’d like to hear more, try out crystalseabooks.com where “We’re not perfect but our Boss is!” (Bible Quote from the English Standard Version) Proverbs, Chapter 8, verses 22 and 23, English Standard Version Göbekli Tepe shows evidence of geometric planning (creation.com)

In this video we'll journey back to the late Bronze Age and explore Mycenaean Civilization in Greece and the wider Aegean world.  We'll also delve into the historical events that may have led to armed conflicts between Mycenaeans and Hittites and that may have ultimately served as the basis for Homer's great epics, the Iliad and the Odyssey. Contents:00:00 Contents and Introduction02:43 Helladic Chronology Explained03:42 Discovery of Mycenaean Culture05:35 Geography of Greece07:28 Early Mycenaeans10:58 “Mycenae, Rich in Gold”13:32 Linear B16:54 Mycenaean Society and Material Culture21:21 Mycenaean Palatial Centers and Major Kingdoms23:39 Orchomenos25:30 Gla26:00 Thebes27:00 Athens29:10 Tiryns29:49 Pylos31:15 Daily Life, Food and Economy 36:41 Importance of Bronze38:08 Warfare and Weapons40:25 Hunting and Horses41:47 Roads42:26 Religion45:28 Minoans and Maritime Trade48:07 Earthquake on Thera49:26 Mycenaeans on Crete52:22 Mycenaean Political Unity?53:31 Ahhiyawa and the Hittites55:31 Attarissiya of Ahhiya57:55 The Assuwan Confederacy 1:00:10 Piyamaradu and the Tawagalawa Letter1:05:16 Alaksandu of Wilusa (Troy)1:08:29 Ahhiyawa and Tudhaliya IV1:11:20 Are Mycenaean Greece and Ahhiyawa the Same?1:13:07 Mycenaean Trade with the World1:15:08 The Uluburun Shipwreck1:18:01 Fear and Dread1:23:15 Desperate Times, Desperate Measures1:25:53 Possible Theories for the Fall of Mycenaean Civilization1:27:24 End of an Era1:28:54 Thank You and PatronsSupport the show

The United States returned to Greece 30 ancient artifacts, including marble statues, armor helmets, and breastplates, found to have been illicitly removed from the country, authorities said. The pieces handed over to Greek officials in New York date back from as long as 4,700 years ago to the Middle Ages. Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg said the “exquisite” works were collectively valued at $3.7 million (3.39 million euros). Nineteen of the artifacts were voluntarily surrendered by New York gallery owner Michael Ward, the DA's office said in a statement. Three others were seized from British art dealer Robin Symes, the statement said, while one was seized from a storage unit belonging to an unspecified New York-based private collector. “This is an exquisite set of 30 antiquities that represents the extraordinary depth and beauty of Greece's cultural heritage,” Bragg said. The works include a Roman-era headless marble statue of Aphrodite, the ancient Greek goddess of love. Bragg's office said it was recovered from a storage unit that belonged to Symes, where it had been hidden since at least 1999. There were also seven bronze helmets dating from the 6th century B.C. to the 3rd century B.C., two bronze and two iron breastplates for soldiers, a medieval silver platter, a marble Cycladic figurine dating to 2,700-2,300 B.C. and Mycenaean and Minoan Cretan pottery. Greek Culture Minister Lina Mendoni praised in a statement the “strong cooperation and hard work” by U.S. and Greek experts that led to the antiquities' return. The return follows two similar operations last year, involving 29 antiquities, and in 2022, when 55 works were returned from New York. Greece has for decades been targeted by criminal networks engaged in the trafficking of illegally excavated antiquities that command high prices worldwide. By law, all ancient artifacts found in the country are state property. This article was provided by The Associated Press.

Hatten die Mykener leichtes Spiel die Minoer zu erobern, da diese ein wenig kriegerisch Volk waren? Was liegt an dem sogenannten "Minoischen Frieden"? Übten die Minoer tatsächlich eine sogenannte Seeherrschaft aus? Wo gründeten sie Kolonien? In der letzten Episode zu den Minoern werden wir diese Fragen unter anderem versuchen zu beantworten und auch woher die Minoer kamen. Quellen & Lektüre: Herodot Homer Thukydides Alexiou, Kretologia 8, 1979. Argyropoulos et al., The Angle Orthodontist, 1989 Best, de Vries, Interaction and Acculturation in the Mediterranean, 1980 Branigan, The Annual of the British School at Athens, 1981 Branigan, The Nature of Warfare in the Southern Aegean During the Third Millennium BC, 1999 D'Amato, Salimbeti, Early Aegean Warrior 5000–1450 BC, 2013 Dickinson, The Aegean Bronze Age, 1994 Driessen, The Archaeology of Aegean Warfare, 1999 Floyd, Observations on a Minoan Dagger from Chrysokamino, 1999 Furumark, Opuscula archaeologica, 1950 Gates, Why are there no scenes of warfare in Minoan art?, 1999 Gere, Knossos and the Prophets of Modernism Gschnitzer, Kleine Schriften zum griechischen und römischen Altertum, 2001 Harland, Prehistoric Aigina: A History of the Island in the Bronze Age, 1925 Hoffman, Imports and Immigrants: Near Eastern Contacts with Iron Age Crete, 1997 Hughey et al., Nature Communications, 2013. Knapp, World Archaeology 24/3, 1993. Lazaridis et al., Nature, 2017. Lazaridis et al., 2022 Melas, Studies in Mediterranean archaeology, 1985 Molloy, Annual of the British School at Athens 107, 2012 Niemeier, Studi Micenei ed Egeoanatolici Nixon, Changing Views of Minoan Society, 1983 Papagrigorakis et al., Anthropologischer Anzeiger, 2014 Rehak, The Mycenaean 'Warrior Goddess' Revisited, 1999 Strobel, Der spätbronzezeitliche Seevölkersturm, 1976 Swindale, Ayia Photia Warren, The Miniature Fresco from the West House at Akrotiri, Thera, and Its Aegean Setting, 1979 Hier sind die separaten Internetadressen, die in deiner Literaturliste enthalten sind: 1. Ayia Photia 2. Pax Minoica in Aegean 3. Google Books - Early Aegean Warrior 4. Minoan Shipbuilding 5. Archaeology - Minoan Shipwreck 6. Global Editorial Services - First Minoan Shipwreck 7. Husemann - Vaterschaftstest für Pharao 8. DNA der Minoer 9. Y-Chromosom Griechen & Kreter 10. Linear B Inschriften in Chania 11. PubMed - Cephalometric analysis 12. NCBI - Minoan archaeogenetics 13. Live Science - Minoans genetically European 14. NCBI - Further Minoan archaeogenetics 15. NCBI - Latest Minoan archaeogenetics

Episode 245 – Archeology and the Bible – Part 1 - Affirmation Welcome to Anchored by Truth brought to you by Crystal Sea Books. In John 14:6, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” The goal of Anchored by Truth is to encourage everyone to grow in the Christian faith by anchoring themselves to the secure truth found in the inspired, inerrant, and infallible word of God. Script: Goliath … wore a bronze helmet, and [a] bronze coat of mail ... He also wore bronze leg armor, and he carried a bronze javelin on his shoulder. … The shaft of his spear was … heavy and thick … His armor bearer walked ahead of him carrying a shield.” 1 Samuel, Chapter 17, verses 5 through 7, New Living Translation ******** VK: Hello and Happy New Year! I’m Victoria K. Welcome to Anchored by Truth brought to you by Crystal Sea Books. We’re excited to be with you at the start of this New Year and we pray that this year will be a year of joy and blessings to all our listeners. We pray especially that this year will see us all grow in our knowledge and adoration of our Lord Christ Jesus. Today on Anchored by Truth we’re going to start the new year with a new series. As just about everyone knows, the Christian faith in America has been subjected to more challenges in the last decade than probably in the first two centuries of the country’s existence. So, as we open up this New Year we want to revisit a subject that has particular relevance in our day and time –being able to demonstrate that the Christian faith has a firm basis in reason and evidence. RD has entitled this series “Archeology and the Bible.” So, we have RD who is an author and the founder of Crystal Sea Books, in the studio today. RD, why did you decide we need to take a special look at the topic of archeology? RD: Well, I’d also like to say Happy New Year to everyone who is joining us here today. As we begin a new year I wanted to take several episodes of Anchored by Truth focusing on archeology because it seems like in the last few years the number of times I’ve heard the Bible criticized as a book of “myth and fairy tales” has increased dramatically. This is sad but it’s also silly because it is a criticism that is so easily disproved. The Bible is a book that is set in place and time. While the Bible contains a large variety of literary genres, a large part of the Bible is the history of those places and times. As such we can validate the accuracy of the Bible’s reporting through other ancient documents that also contain reports about the same places and times. And we can also affirm much of the Bible’s reporting through the findings of archeology. VK: As Anchored by Truth listeners know at Crystal Sea Books we believe that there are two criteria that would have to be true for any book that claims to be the word of God. First, the book would have to be consistent with what we know about human and natural history. How could you trust a book that claims to be the product of a divine and infinite mind if it contains easily demonstrable errors? Second the book would have to contain evidence of supernatural inspiration. After all, humans write books all the time. And even human beings can produce books that accurately report history and contain meaningful insights about life and society. RD: Yes. There are other criteria that some people might think are appropriate when considering whether a particular book is the word of an almighty, everlasting God but we would submit that those two criteria would have to be true at a minimum. And we would urge that anyone who is trying to decide whether one book or another is God’s word should apply their minds as well as their hearts to the decision. Many people think that faith is believing in something in spite of reason and evidence, but it’s not. Becoming a Christian and embracing faith in Christ Jesus doesn’t require us to suspend the use of our minds. To the contrary, knowing and loving Jesus means we should increase our efforts to grow in knowledge as well as trust. Real faith is far more likely to arrive by placing trust in something or Someone after careful consideration of the truth claims at issue. This includes being able to explain why some truth claims are true but others false. Reason and evidence are an essential part of doing that. VK: So, just to ensure that’s clear, at Anchored by Truth we believe that any book claims to be the word of God must be consistent with what we know about human and natural history and must contain marks of supernatural inspiration. Well, we also believe that are four lines of evidence that demonstrate that the Bible meets those two criteria and is, therefore, the inspired, inerrant, and infallible word of God. First, the Bible is historically reliable. Second, the Bible displays a remarkable unity for a book that was composed by over 3 dozen human authors who wrote over a span of 1,500 years. Third, the Bible gives evidence of supernatural origin, especially through a large body of fulfilled prophecy. And the 4th line of evidence is that the Bible has resulted in an untold number of lives that have been positively changed by its transcendent message. So, what you are saying – and what we are going to be talking about during this series - is that archeology can be a useful to aid to helping affirm the historicity of the Bible. RD: Yes. For those of us who are concerned about helping people understand that the Bible is the inspired word of God archeology can have two roles. First, as we mentioned we started this discussion archeology can help demonstrate that the Bible is not, in fact, filled with myth and fairy tales. Archeology can help us demonstrate that Bible accounts of certain exploits that may seem legendary are historically accurate. VK: Why don’t you give us a quick example of what you’re thinking about? RD: Many people might think that the encounter between David and Goliath is some kind of myth and legend. VK: Because the idea of a short, teenage boy defeating a heavily armed and armored warrior with only a sling and stone does seem improbable doesn’t it? RD: It might but it’s not. And one of the reasons that we can have confidence about what the Bible says about the encounter is the large number of details that the Bible gives us about the fight. For instance, the Bible describes in great detail – as you put it – Goliath’s arms and armor. VK: And among many archeological finds that have confirmed the accuracy of the Bible’s description of Goliath’s equipment is a depiction of Philistine warriors in a temple in Egypt, right? RD: Right. Let’s start by reminding everyone that while the Bible is mostly concerned about the activity of the Philistines in their interactions with ancient Israel, the Philistines came into contact with all of the civilizations of the ancient Mideast including Egypt. The Egyptians fought the Philistines on many occasions. The Egyptians called the Philistines the “Sea Peoples” because the Philistines had come to Palestine from Mycenae which was located in modern day Greece. This means they would have arrived on the coast of Palestine by way of ships crossing the sea. VK: So, the Egyptians were very familiar with Philistine warriors like Goliath. RD: Yes. According to an article in Biblical Archeology Society website one of the most vivid depictions of the Philistine warriors is in a “mortuary temple at Medinet Habu in Thebes. The battle scenes depicted on the walls of this temple are our most precious and most graphic representation of the Sea Peoples’ dress, weaponry, chariotry, naval equipment, and battle tactics. The Philistine infantry is shown fighting in small phalanges of four men each; three men are each armed with a long, straight sword and a pair of spears, the fourth with only a sword.” Notice that the Egyptian drawings show the Philistine infantry armed with a pair of spears exactly like Goliath – although the Bible is more precise and notes that the second spear is a javelin which was used for throwing. The spear that Goliath carried in his hands was actually more like a long club. It was used for smashing and bashing … VK: Smashing and bashing … really? RD: Really. Every infantryman knows that one of the keys to victory is break through the enemy lines. And the David encounter notwithstanding, that’s what Goliath’s job was – to create holes in the enemy’s front lines that the soldiers behind him could exploit. Homer referred to such soldiers as “first men.” VK: That explains why the Bible tells us that Goliath’s spearhead weighed 15 pounds. A 15 pound piece of iron on the end of a heavy and thick spear – the Bible says it was as thick as a weaver’s beam – is to going to be good for, as you said, “smashing and bashing.” And it’s also important to note that in the Biblical description of Goliath’s armor his helmet and coat of mail are said to be made of bronze, as was his javelin. The battle between David and Goliath took place just as the Iron Age was beginning. At that time there would still have been a lot of bronze weapons and armor in use. Bronze had been in common use since about 2500 BC. Iron would later become far more common and the Philistines were very proficient at shaping and forming iron but this battle occurred before that transition was complete. And even at that time bronze was easier to form into weapons. Bronze has a much lower melting point than iron – about 1000 degrees Celsius. Iron’s melting point is closer to 1600 degrees Celsius. So, on first blush, the Bible’s description of the fight between David and Goliath might seem to be legendary but the details that the Bible provides and archeological discoveries show us that it is not. So, what is the second role that archeology plays for those who are interested in the Bible? RD: Archeology can help shed new light on the history the Bible contains and it can also help us understand the Bible text as well. We’ll get more into this as we move through the series, but one quick example of how archeological finds can improve our understanding of the Bible’s texts are clay tablets referred to as the Ugaritic texts. These came from an archeological excavation in Syria. The tablets dated over a thousand years before Jesus and contained cuneiform writing in a variety of languages. Cuneiform writing was a writing form common in ancient Mideast languages and used wedge shaped characters typically impressed into soft clay. The Ugaritic texts were helpful to Bible scholars because some of the tablets were written in an alphabetic script that recorded a northwest Semitic language that overlapped with Biblical Hebrew. The Ugaritic language shared a number of words with Biblical Hebrew so this has helped scholars better understand some words contained in the text of the Bible, especially words that occur only once in the Bible. VK: So, one important role that archeology plays is to help affirm the reliability of the Bible’s historical reports. And a second important role that archeology plays is actually to amplify our understanding of the Bible’s texts as well as increase our understanding of the times, cultures, and places recorded in the Bible This second role is true for those of us who accept the Bible as the inspired word of God as it is as for those who don’t regard the Bible as being inspired. The first role of archeology can be especially important in the Christian work of apologetics which is a defense of the Christian faith. But in this first role you say that it is important for Christians to not say things like, “archeology proves the truth of the Bible.” Why is that? RD: Yes. It is not proper to say that archeology proves the Bible is true because doing so carries the risk of both over claiming and under claiming at the same time. VK: Ok. Over claiming and under claiming at the same time would seem to be a bit of a mystery. Why is saying that “archeology proves the Bible is true” an “over claim?” RD: Archeology, like any human endeavor, has limits in the amount of certainty it can provide. Archeologists are always looking at artifacts from the past and they do their best to derive information from those artifacts. But, the archeologists were not present at the time the artifacts were created. So, their interpretation is exactly that. It’s an interpretation not a history based on first hand observation. And archeologists will differ in their interpretations and it is not at all uncommon for subsequent discoveries to necessitate revising previous opinions. None of this is to suggest that archeology is valuable and can’t be conducted with rigor. It certainly can. But archeology, while it can and does provide important support for the Bible, cannot “prove” the Bible is true. VK: That makes sense. The Miriam Webster online dictionary defines archeology as “the scientific study of material remains (such as tools, pottery, jewelry, stone walls, and monuments) of past human life and activities.” It’s important to note in that definition that archeology is concerned with “past human life and activities.” So, while we can do much to try and determine what actually happened in the past we will always fall short of absolute certainty. Why is saying that “archeology proves the Bible is true” an “under claim?” RD: Well, simply put the Bible is true because it is God’s word. It would be true regardless of whether any human being were to accept as being true or not. Now, I’m well aware that a critic would accuse me of circular reasoning in saying this. The Bible is God’s word and it is true because God is all-knowing and all-powerful. But it is the Bible that tells us that God is all-knowing and all-powerful. But that is not what I am saying. Anything that is true – that is that it corresponds to reality – is true regardless of agreement or acceptance of the truth. The man who decides he doesn’t like having cancer and rejects the doctor’s report will still have cancer regardless of whether he accepts the report. The Bible is or is not the inspired, revealed word of God regardless of whether we accept it as such. So, when we say that archeology “proves” the Bible we are, in effect, turning the truth of the Bible over to archeological judgment. Again, I’m not saying that archeology cannot be a valid and important venue for obtaining evidence that helps us understand the Bible but we don’t need archeology to establish the Bible’s truth. VK: I think I see the point you’re making. Some theologians will refer to the Bible as being self-authenticating. The Bible’s truth will pierce through all the fog and distractions of the world and the inward witness of the Holy Spirit will confirm its truth to us. Sometimes people will say, “most of the time we judge books, but the Bible is a book that judges us.” You’re not disagreeing with this position are you? RD: I’m not disagreeing with this position but I am trying to look at the question from all angles. One of the reasons I believe God will be able to hold all people accountable because He has given sufficient witness of Himself through His creation and His superintendence of history. The Bible tells us this explicitly in Psalm 19, verses 1 through 4 and in Romans, chapter 1, verse 20. God has given all humanity ample witness of His existence and attributes. Well, I believe something similar is true about the Bible. We can use reason and evidence to evaluate whether the Bible can be legitimately considered the word of God. We laid out our criteria and lines of evidence for doing so at the start of today’s episode. In considering those lines of evidence, especially whether the Bible contains reliable history, archeology can be an important source of information and support. But this role of archeology is ministerial not magisterial. If we made our opinion about whether the Bible is true based on the findings of archeology, that would make archeology magisterial not ministerial. VK: What you’re saying is that the Bible is true and was true before archeology ever entered the scientific dialogue. Like all science, when properly used and properly understood, archeology sheds important light on questions of truth. And there are literally thousands, or maybe tens of thousands of archeological findings, that confirm the accuracy of the Bible text and the history recorded in the Bible. So, saying archeology “proves the Bible is true” is an under claim because it suggests the Bible’s truth was uncertain until archeology came along. RD: Right. As we’ve said archeology can play two very important roles in our study of the Bible and that’s why we’re doing this series. Archeology can help skeptics see that the Bible is not, in fact, a book of “myth and fairy tale.” It is a book firmly set in place and time and its reports of those places and times are trustworthy. Archeology can also help us expand our understanding of the places and times of the Bible and of the people, societies, and cultures that the Bible describes. This helps us understand the Bible’s messages more clearly. VK: Regardless of how old anyone living is, the reality is that the Bible’s text was completed two thousand years before they were born. And the Bible was written in and to cultures and countries that are much different from those with which we are familiar. Archeological findings help us understand the people that the Bible was written to and about so we can get closer to standing in their shoes, seeing the sights they saw, and thereby know exactly what the Bible writers meant to communicate. RD: Yes. So, before we close, let’s go back to our David and Goliath example for just a second to amplify how archeology increases our confidence that this incident is accurate historically. One simple fact that has been confirmed by archeology is that Goliath’s home city of Gath was a real city. Gath was one of the 5 major cities of the Philistines. Its existence has been confirmed by Egyptian inscriptions. It is thought to be located at Tel Zafit (in Hebrew) which is located inside Tel Zafit National Park in modern day Israel. So, this is a finding of archeology that is consistent with the Bible. Another detail of the story that has been confirmed is the Bible’s description of Goliath’s armor. The Bible tells us that Goliath wore a coat of scale armor. The fact that Philistine warriors wore such armor coats has been confirmed by an archeological find. In 2006, bronze scale armor was discovered in a Mycenaean palace on the island of Salamis. Remember that the Philistines were thought to have originated in Mycenae. VK: This finding was especially relevant because some scholars who were critical of the Bible’s account of the fight between David and Goliath alleged that the story was just a fictional account probably made around the 6th or 7th century BC. Their assertion was that the story was concocted to make the Hebrews have a greater sense of national pride. The Hebrew pride supposedly needed a boost at that time because the Hebrews were either still captives in Babylon or had only recently returned to Israel. Part of the reason critics made that assertion was because the shirt of scale armor the Bible reports that Goliath wore was not thought to be typical of Mycenaean soldiers. Mycenaean soldiers were often armored by wide bronze bands connected by hinges. It was thought that scale armor had gone out of use before the Mycenaean heyday, around 1400 B.C.E. So, the critics alleged, that the Bible’s description of Goliath’s armor was inaccurate. But archeologists finding a coat of scale armor in a Mycenaean palace shows that their soldiers did use scale armor at least part of the time. RD: Yep. The Bible reported that Goliath wore a type of armored coat that had not been commonly associated with the Philistines. This was a detail that the Bible writer knew that would have been unknown to a writer who wrote three or four hundred years later. Writers in the 7th or 6th century would have had little to no idea how Philistine warriors had been armored in the earlier Bronze Age. So, this is another discovery from archeology that supports the Bible’s account of David and Goliath. And let’s mention just a couple of more items to complete our discussion. We now have prolific evidence that the kind of “contest between champions” was common in combat between Bronze Age armies. Single combat to determine the outcome of battles spared bloody casualties. The armies of the Bronze Age were willing to do this because wars were thought to actually be contests between the gods of the respective armies. The armies believed that each side’s god would fight on their behalf to determine the outcome that would have resulted anyway. Archeologists have unearthed texts from this time that provide numerous examples of this belief. Examples include the Egyptian account of Sinuhe, the Babylonian Epic Enuma Elish, and the famous duel between Paris and Menelaus in Homer´s Iliad. VK: And the Bible even records this detail in its account. In 1 Samuel, chapter 17, verse 43 the Bible says, “And the Philistine cursed David by his gods.” Then in verses 45 and 46 The Bible tells us that David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down.” RD: Yep. So, the big idea that we wanted to introduce today is that archeological finds can be a valuable source of support for the accuracy of the history that the Bible reports. Actually, for decades the relationship between the Bible and archeology has been mutually supportive. Many scholars, including ones who weren’t Christian, used the Bible as a source document when planning or conducting their excavations. The Bible was and is widely regarded as an important source of information about ancient peoples and cultures. This symbiotic relationship was well known. The trend to dismiss the Bible’s accuracy in matters of dates and places in the Mideast has become popular among skeptics but it is completely out of sync with how the Bible was viewed among professionals. The Bible’s history has been shown to be accurate even when doubted and we’ll get more into that in later episodes in this series. VK: Well, sounds like we’re in for quite a thought-provoking journey. Hopefully, listeners will let others know about this series. It really can be a valuable resource to the skeptic and the believer alike. This sounds like a great time to pray. Today let’s listen to a prayer of praise of Adoration for the Creator God who set the cosmos into motion and established a home on the earth for His people as He prepares them for an eternity with Him in heaven. ---- PRAYER OF ADORATION FOR THE CREATOR VK: We’d like to remind our audience that a lot of our radio episodes are linked together in series of topics so if they missed any episodes or if they just want to hear one again, all of these episodes are available on your favorite podcast app. To find them just search on “Anchored by Truth by Crystal Sea Books.” If you’d like to hear more, try out crystalseabooks.com where “We’re not perfect but our Boss is!” (Bible Quotes from the New Living Translation) 1 Samuel, Chapter 17, verses 5 through 7, New Living Translation https://www.baslibrary.org/biblical-archaeology-review/8/4/1 https://patternsofevidence.com/2018/10/26/david-battles-goliath/)

It's time for Jeff and Dave to finish off their brief foray into all things Philistine and Mycenaean. This week we wrap up our look at Neal Bierling's short but deep monograph on the state of excavation in Palestine. After a quick review of inscriptional and ceramic evidence, the Phaistos Disc, anthropoid coffins, and more, the conversation takes us on to the different eras in Philistine history: Judges to David, David to Solomon, Solomon to Hezekiah, and finally to the eventual dissolution or absorption of the Philistine people at the time of Babylonian Nebuchadnezzar's devastating invasion. Things get a little testy in the vomitorium when it comes to the trickster archetype, Jungian analogues, and the exact relationship between Samson and Hercules (and Paul Bunyan?) So tune in for what we hope was a careful thinking through the issues, some silly laughs and (on Dave's part) horrible puns, and a big announcement from one of our sponsors, RatioCoffee.

https://www.patreon.com/GnosticInformant Please Consider joining my Patreon to help finding scholars to bring on. Any amount helps me. Thank you existing Patrons. The ancient Pelasgians mentioned by the Greek poet Homer were a mysterious and enigmatic people who played a significant role in early Greek mythology and history. Homer described them as a prehistoric civilization, often associated with the region of Thessaly and the city of Argos. However, the exact origins and characteristics of the Pelasgians remain a subject of debate among historians and scholars. According to Homer, the Pelasgians were a people who lived in the time before the Trojan War and were associated with the construction of massive structures, such as the walls of Mycenae. They were considered skilled builders and were often depicted as a semi-divine or legendary group. Some ancient Greek writers even suggested that the Pelasgians were the original inhabitants of Greece, predating other Greek-speaking tribes. The historical reality of the Pelasgians is complex and elusive, as they appear in various ancient Greek texts with different interpretations. Some scholars argue that they were a distinct ethnic group, while others propose that the term "Pelasgians" was used to refer to various indigenous populations of the Aegean region. Ultimately, the true identity and nature of the Pelasgians remain shrouded in the mists of antiquity, leaving us with fragments of mythology and historical accounts that continue to intrigue and fascinate to this day. The proto-Indo-European ancestors of the Greeks in and around the Black Sea region are generally believed to be the people known as the Proto-Greeks or the Mycenaean Greeks. The Mycenaean civilization, which flourished from around the 16th to the 12th century BCE, is considered an important precursor to classical Greek civilization. The Mycenaeans were part of a broader group of Indo-European speakers who migrated into the Balkans and Anatolia during the Bronze Age. These migrations are often associated with the expansion of the Indo-European language family, which includes Greek as one of its branches. The exact origins of the Proto-Greeks are still a subject of ongoing research and debate among historians and linguists. The Mycenaeans established a powerful civilization centered around the southern part of mainland Greece, with major centers such as Mycenae, Pylos, and Tiryns. They were skilled warriors, traders, and builders, known for their impressive palaces and fortifications. Their culture and language laid the foundation for the later development of ancient Greek civilization. It's important to note that while the Mycenaeans and their language are considered a significant part of the proto-Indo-European ancestry of the Greeks, the complex history of ancient migrations and cultural interactions in the region makes it difficult to attribute the Greek population exclusively to a single ancestral group. Civilization around the Black Sea region has a long and rich history, dating back thousands of years. The area has been inhabited by various cultures and civilizations since ancient times. The earliest evidence of human habitation in the region can be traced back to the Paleolithic era, around 45,000 to 12,000 years ago. In terms of more complex civilizations, one of the notable early cultures in the region was the Cucuteni-Trypillian culture, which flourished from approximately 5500 to 2750 BCE. This Neolithic culture was known for its advanced agriculture, pottery, and sizable settlements. Moving forward in time, the Black Sea region saw the rise and fall of various ancient civilizations. The ancient Greeks established numerous colonies along the coast of the Black Sea from the 8th century BCE onward, fostering trade and cultural exchange in the region. Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NealSendlak1 Discord: https://discord.com/invite/uWBZkxd4UX#gnosticinformant #oldest #documentary --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/gnosticinformant/message

"History is a dialogue between the past and the present." So how do we know anything about history? To what extent is our knowledge of history merely modern day historians projecting their own thoughts and interpretations on the past? How do we know that ancient peoples felt the same emotions we do? What role should emotion, feeling, and motivation play in the study of history? Archaelogist Guy Middleton's paper "I Will Follow You Into the Dark: Death and Emotion in a Mycenaean Royal Funeral" provides a reconstruction of an Ancient King's burial in order to give us insight into these complex questions.  You can read the paper here: https://www.academia.edu/36792792/I_will_follow_you_into_the_dark_Death_and_emotion_in_a_Mycenaean_royal_funeral_ -Consider Supporting the Podcast!- Support the podcast on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/reflectinghistory Check out my podcast series on Piranesi, Arcane, The Dark Knight Trilogy, and Nazi Germany and the Battle for the Human Heart here: https://www.reflectinghistory.com/bonuscontent Try my audio course "Nazi Germany and the Battle for the Human Heart"-- Why do 'good' people support evil leaders? What allure does Fascism hold that enables it to garner popular support? And what lessons can history teach us about today? My audio course 'A Beginners Guide to Understanding & Resisting Fascism: Nazi Germany and the Battle for the Human Heart' explores these massive questions through the lens of Nazi Germany and the ordinary people who lived, loved, collaborated and even resisted during those times. Through exploring the past, I hope to unlock lessons that all learners on the course can apply to the present day - from why fascism attracts people to how it can be resisted. I'm donating 20% of the proceeds to Givewell's Maximum Impact Fund, and the course also comes with a 100% money back guarantee. Check it out at https://avid.fm/reflectinghistory or on my patreon page at: https://www.patreon.com/reflectinghistory. Try my audio course "Piranesi: Exploring the Infinite Halls of a Literary Masterpiece"-- This course is a deep analysis of Susanna Clark's literary masterpiece "Piranesi." Whether you are someone who is reading the novel for academic purposes, or you simply want to enjoy an incredible story for it's own sake, this audio course goes chapter by chapter into the plot, characters, and themes of the book...“The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; it's kindness infinite.” Piranesi lives in an infinite house, with no long-term memory and only a loose sense of identity. As the secrets of the House deepen and the mystery of his life becomes more sinister, Piranesi must discover who he is and how this brings him closer to the “Great and Secret Knowledge” that the House contains. Touching on themes of memory, identity, mental health, knowledge, reason, experience, meaning, reflection, ideals, and more…Piranesi will be remembered as one of the great books of the 21st century. Hope you enjoy the course as much as I enjoyed making it. Check it out at https://learner.avid.fm/course/s/piranesi or at https://www.patreon.com/reflectinghistory. Subscribe to my newsletter! A free, low stress, monthly-quarterly email offering historical perspective on modern day issues, behind the scenes content on my latest podcast episodes, and historical lessons/takeaways from the world of history, psychology, and philosophy: https://www.reflectinghistory.com/newsletter. Leave a rating or review on apple podcasts or spotify!  

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After the Bronze Age Collapse, Greece changed dramatically. The palaces were gone, long-distance trade declined, and crafts became much simpler. Most of all, there were fewer people living in Greece than there had been during the Mycenaean period. For all these reasons, scholars have often called this time the "Greek Dark Age." But how dark was it, and what was life like after the palaces fell?Patrick's book is now available! Get The Verge: Reformation, Renaissance, and Forty Years that Shook the World in hardcopy, ebook, or audiobook (read by Patrick) here: https://bit.ly/PWvergeListen to new episodes 1 week early, to exclusive seasons 1 and 2, and to all episodes ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App https://wondery.app.link/tidesofhistorySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Zakynthos is a separate regional unit of the Ionian Islands region, and its only municipality. It covers an area of 405.55 km and its coastline is roughly 123 km in length. The name, like all similar names ending in -nthos, is pre-Mycenaean or Pelasgian in origin

Ash Men, Sins and the Will of the Ancestors.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone. (11:00 p.m. Thursday Night)Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She’d looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada’s unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn’t too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light.She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn’t wise. In the same vein, the ‘stun gun’ I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada’s imagination.With the flash of my weapon, Rhada’s eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim’ would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine.It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps.I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3.00 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm.Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife.“What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?” I taunted her softly as I caught my breath.I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs and over her cunt.“Fuck it,” I mused. “You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.” I wasn’t sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole’ really excited her.“You are probably so loose I couldn’t feel a thing if I did fuck you,” I kept up the pressure. “Maybe I’ll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut’ and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said ’$5 per hole’, do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?” She whimpered.Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants and readied my rod. After slapping my cockhead against her molten labia a few times,“What? You don’t want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?”Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative.“Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?” I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. My cock rose up, Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture my penis on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing in.All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered her pussy into my pelvis with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me.I snatched up Rhada’s knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me.“No,” Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me.Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like’, or 'let me explain’ to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster.“What are you going to do?” I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment.“How could you?” Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back.“There is no way I can explain this,” I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada’s knife. “Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn’t put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.” Okay, that last bit was bullshit.“Is Rhada okay?” Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later’. I freed Rhada’s hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it.“Ask her yourself,” I suggested. Sensing Rhada’s insanity rising up. “No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won’t allow it.”Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn’t understand.“Rhada, I came here to save you,” Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight.“You came to take my Cáel for yourself,” Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all.“I need to…get something from my backpack,” I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada.“You brought a change of clothes for her?” Oneida was still playing 'kinky games’ catch up.“Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,” Rhada seethed.“How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around…?” Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her.“None of this makes any sense,” Oneida protested. It didn’t matter.“Oneida, are your guardians close by?” I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant.Oneida nodded.“Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I’ll try to have this make sense to you one day,” I said.“No!” Rhada yelped as if I’d stuck her. “I cannot wait any longer.”“Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,” I insisted. I wasn’t afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn’t waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away.Rhada looked at me as if she’d witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida’s way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk’ and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I’d pay the bill later.(Friday Morning)I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner’ security types.Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn’t look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up.What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me.“Cáel Nyilas,” the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG’s) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was.A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn’t recognize.“Have I just won Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?” I grinned foolishly. I’m sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I’m not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me.“Let go,” one of them hissed.“Do I at least get a claim check?” I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell…not an elevator and down I went.Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'fuck it’ moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me.She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard.Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn’t try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall.I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I’d lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double.Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn’t going anywhere fast. I wasn’t done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position.“Stop that,” one of the guards stated.“I’d like to sit up, please,” I requested.With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions.“Thank you,” I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh?“They all said you would fight,” the leader grinned.“We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,” she informed me.“Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,” I said. “Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.”Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I’d cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum.“Is there any way I could make a video message?” I inquired.“No,” was the reply.“Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I’m okay, but won’t be able to see her for a while,” I pled my case.“You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?” another asked.“I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,” I explained.“Save some of that defiance for your relocation,” the leader snickered. “You’ll need it.”“Thanks. I will,” I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious.“You’ve accepted your fate?” the one I’d knocked out questioned.“The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,” I shrugged.“Bravado,” a different Amazon snorted.“You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I’m left with,” I stared at her. “I’ve beaten your ilk enough times to know I’ll escape that life before too long.”That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring.“When is the meeting?” I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation.She didn’t look surprised. She hid it well.“What meeting?” she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest.“Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?” I looked up.“What do you know?” she prodded. The others were now watching.“I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I’ve been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,” I laid out my case.“If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?” the leader wondered.“I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,” I mused.“I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,” I answered. “Their friendship and affection is pointless. I’m good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.”“You sound angrier than your words indicate,” an Amazon noted.“I am angry. I don’t desire death,” I shrugged. “I don’t think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.”“What would that be?” the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom.“Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That’s a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,” I stated.“Does that fantasy make you feel better?” she pressed, somewhat amused.“Of course not,” I laughed. “That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.”“You know nothing of us,” she said and the others laughed.“Yeah…right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?” I grinned. “Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,” I chuckled. “Sterile females, deformed babies…you taught those men a lesson alright.”“You are all such epic bad-asses, you’ve butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you’ve got your racial superiority, right?” I chortled.“You should shut up now,” the leader’s eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence.An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise.“Get dressed,” she ordered.“Why?” I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time.“You will do it because you’ve been told to do it,” Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. “Help me get him dressed,” she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I’d dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps.I ended up farther down that I’d ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively.“He has been summoned,” Constanza informed the door guards.One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden’s chair.“Stand there,” Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it.“Sure,” I did as I was instructed. “Why am I here?”“Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,” Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me.My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt…because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine.Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn’t know.“Good morning Cáel Nyilas,” she said. “This is my cousin, Arwen.”The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain’t easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor.“Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?” Katrina smirked.“Cut me some slack, Boss. I’m three insults away from slinging poo,” I grinned back.“Nice to meet you, Arwen,” I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn’t shake. “She’s your apprentice?” I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. “That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?”“She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,” Katrina enlightened me.“What is her survival stratagem then?” I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina.“Have her cake and eat it too,” Katrina mused. “She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves…because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.”“I’m about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,” I shrugged. “Take care Katrina.”“Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,” Arwen 'clarified’ things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn’t get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough.Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn’t take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing.The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren’t sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden’s pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren’t afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer.The 'junior’ members started the chorus as the last 'senior’ joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down.“A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,” Hayden began. “A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.”And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden’s right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn’t know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti.Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward’ for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida’s life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet.“I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,” Hayden announced. “Does anyone have other salient points to add?”That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention.“I do, High Priestess,” the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused.“I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,” Hayden nodded then resumed seating.“My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,” Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant.(1)“First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,” Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. “At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.”Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order.(2) “Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn’t for the New Directive.”“As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,” Shawnee looked around the table. “At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter’s life.”“As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense…unless,” Shawnee’s face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. “Thus I had Cáel’s genetic identity tested, to see if…”“To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,” Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order.“Oh Ursula,” Shawnee smirked, “the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti’s sins and the Council’s decision.”“But…” Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon’s looked my way, clearly bewildered.“We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,” Shawnee stated. “We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.”“Who?” Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far.(3)“Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,” Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. NOT good.The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side.That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn’t part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision.“You are all incorrect,” the unknown tablet-reader spoke.Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling.“Elsa, who is that?” I whispered.“Krasimira, Keeper of Records,” Elsa quietly informed me.“What…what do you mean?” Messina, Fabiola’s Mom stammered.“Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,” Krasimira related.“So?” Ursula remarked. “He’s still a male.”Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old.“He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel’s ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.”“He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,” an old enemy from Egypt chimed in.“Perhaps,” Krasimira nodded. “That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.”“There is no Head of House Ishara!” Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair.“Again, you are incorrect,” Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. “There is a Head of House Ishara and he’s standing right there.” Even Hayden had a problem with that.“But he’s male,” Hayden declared.“That is Irrelevant,” Krasimira said.“To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,” she quoted Amazon law, “so he is House Ishara’s head.” Silence reigned.“Gun,” I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” I growled. Elsa didn’t look for guidance. She wasn’t that type. She drew her .45 automatic and put in in my hand.“The safety is engaged,” she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my’ seat.“One more step and I’ll shoot you where you stand,” Ursula threatened.“No you won’t,” Saint Marie stood. “I’ll kill you first.”“Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,” Hayden explained. “I don’t like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.”There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn’t stop because that wouldn’t be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First’ House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First’ Houses as well.The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower.It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn’t forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves.I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn’t be sitting in it.“I will stand for House Ishara,” I announced. “I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.”“No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,” I kept going. “Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I’m not going to start now.”“You insult us,” Messina stood up. Five other women joined her.“By all means,” Katrina stood, “we eagerly await your challenge.” Eight other women joined her. I hadn’t suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First’ Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup.Messina’s backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn’t going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That’s why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons.They couldn’t make them 'not-Amazons’ and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they’d never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill.No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children…sure, let’s walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he’d obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I’d worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this fucked-up language.I’d re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I’d like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I’d like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever.Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible.I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man…with two axes. That was…no I couldn’t accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus.Oneida hadn’t been trapped by madness and pride. She’d been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She’d seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she’d had to save me and she couldn’t tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn’t the time to ask.I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee’s head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida’s head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn’t like those ideas.“Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?” I mocked them.“You don’t…,” a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out.“They didn’t sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,” I glared. “They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you fucked up.”Tons of 'how dare you’ and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence.“Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice’s’ throat?” I posed. I could see the 'no’ forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head.“Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,” I explained. “You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host…and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I’m wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.”“You are correct,” Krasimira said. “All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.” What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess.The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona’s house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass.The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal…that was the issue now. Ms. Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process.“What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?” she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest.“Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?” I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips.“I am not sure Cáel,” Hayden responded. “Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.”“He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,” Fatima stated.“His status is not in question,” Hayden purred. That was the 'I’m about to lose patience with you’ purr.“I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?” I inquired.“I don’t know you, or your ways,” Fatima spat.“You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,” I snorted. “So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don’t know me.”“If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,” I stated.“After all, they risked everyone’s anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti’s long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn’t do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,” I challenged the Host.“You trained your monkey well,” Messina mocked Katrina.“Ah…” I mused as I picked up my pistol. “Safety.” I got a feel for the weapon. “Messina, what’s the name of your 'apprentice’?”“You wouldn’t dare,” Messina hissed.“You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,” I smiled insanely. “Why do you think I’ll let you get away with that? I’m not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.”“Pull that trigger and you will die,” Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events.“Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,” I pointed out.“Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down…please,” Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare’ coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina’s hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time.“Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?” the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. “I don’t like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.”“Wait! Hayden, now that I’m…” I got all excited.“No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady’,” Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths.“Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady’?” this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn’t one of my fans.“Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,” I revealed. “I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.”It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair.“You are very poetic,” another commented.“That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,” I informed them.“Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,” Ursula griped.“In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?” Hayden countered. “He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because HE values our traditions.”“He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,” Hayden lectured the room. “Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?”“He said 'What. Had enough already?’” she snorted. “Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.”“This is not a humorous matter,” Egypt Senior was still cranky.“I don’t know about that,” Saint Marie reposed. “I found it to be fun actually.”“Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,” Saint Marie continued.“Pity he missed you,” Messina glared.“He didn’t miss me, Messina,” Saint Marie sneered. “I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He’s not disloyal, just pugnacious.”“What of Arinniti’s crime?” Beyoncé prodded. She wasn’t feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn’t let go of the fact they’d lost.That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina’s goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented.If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was fucked. Let’s not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain.A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti’s 'omission’ of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash’ brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren’t erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons.I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly’ Amazons shot me a remark.“I supposed you are elated,” she grumbled.“Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you’ll have an inkling of how I feel,” I smiled serenely.“You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,” she got truly pissy.“Lady, I won’t be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,” I kept smiling.“Until then, I’m afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,” I added.“Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?” she salivated at the prospect.“Sure. I’ll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I’ll meet you downtown at noon,” I proposed.It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They’d have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch.“Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds; in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed,” Hayden instructed.“Thank you. I appreciate that,” my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth.“My judgment wasn’t for you, Cáel. You’ve caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us,” Hayden gave me a truly serene response. “Give me a little time to prepare.”“Oh! Great idea,” I exclaimed. “Gotta go!” and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun.“Should I shoot him?” Elsa suggested. “Only to slow him down a bit.” I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter.I caught one of the 'hater’ juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly.“Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff,” I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over.Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme.“What did you do that for?” her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn’t knock the device out of my hands.“I don’t know,” she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back.“Your 'apprentice’ has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts,” I nodded gravely. “What is your name?”“Gale,” she batted her eyelashes. “What did I do?”“What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. “I’ll explain it then.”“You may not spend time with this…person,” Senior insisted.“We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House,” Gale countered.Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat; yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I’d introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy’s room until I got Gale warmed up after all.I was the first one of the 'team’ to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina’s office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk.“Is this going to be really bad, or really good?” Desiree mused.“Why should you have to choose?” I laughed. “Besides, we are aiming for epic status today.”“Why are we here?” Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!’ moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn’t given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass.“Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry,” I looked at her expectantly.“My pleasure,” Desiree rocked up from her seat. “Slapping then knife?” I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered.“Can anyone join?” Buffy asked Paula.“I…I don’t think so,” Paula shook her head. “He’s got a plan. I don’t know what for.” I dodged Desiree’s final swing. I had gathered enough tears; I hoped.“That was truly therapeutic, Cáel,” Desiree stated. “Let me know if you need a repeat performance.” She handed me her small knife.Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens.“Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages,” I requested.“What the hell?” Buffy growled. “What is this about?”“Trust me,” I met her gaze.“Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he’s not crazy. He’s up to something,” Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina’s desk.“Come forth and kneel before me,” I commanded.This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm…Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost…I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes.“There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz,” I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. “With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors.” That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy’s eyes evaporated.I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits.“With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield,” I met her gaze. She started crying.“You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth,” I continued on. “You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts.” Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking’, the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later.“House Ishara is dead,” Daphne stated the obvious.“Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House,” I started. I motioned for my two House-mates…members to rise.“The Second Betrayal,” Violet interrupted.“Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me; being here; today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too,” I recalled recent edited events.“By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or…” I continued.“The eldest of the house,” Daphne gasped. “Since Ishara is…since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host.”“You don’t have to be a female?” Desiree muttered. “That’s insane. We are Amazons.”“There hasn’t been a male in the host for over 2500 years,” I explained. “It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren’t enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female’ was redundant.”“That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd,” Paula muttered. We all looked at her. “What? Since I met Cáel, I’ve been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall.”“Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory,” I lied.“So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?” Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years.“Why do you think I called Buffy first?” I snickered.“I won’t let you down,” Buffy declared with grim determination.“Calm down, Buffy,” I assured her. “I don’t think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They’ve already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation.”“So why did you pick me…and Helena?” Buffy studied me.“Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know,” I told her. “You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next.”“Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around,” Buffy’s eyes grew bright.“Which reminds me; can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two,” I begged my 'new hire’ companions.“I’ll take two nights a week,” Daphne offered.“I’ll take one night,” Paula added.“I’ll take a fourth,” Violet completed the set.“Damn it,” Desiree cursed. “This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors.”“You are right,” Buffy gasped. “I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now.”“One note; I don’t vote,” I informed them. “I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I’m keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights.”Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life; only tradit

Ash Men, Sins and the Will of the Ancestors.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone. (11:00 p.m. Thursday Night)Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She’d looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada’s unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn’t too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light.She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn’t wise. In the same vein, the ‘stun gun’ I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada’s imagination.With the flash of my weapon, Rhada’s eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim’ would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine.It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps.I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3.00 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm.Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife.“What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?” I taunted her softly as I caught my breath.I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs and over her cunt.“Fuck it,” I mused. “You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.” I wasn’t sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole’ really excited her.“You are probably so loose I couldn’t feel a thing if I did fuck you,” I kept up the pressure. “Maybe I’ll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut’ and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said ’$5 per hole’, do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?” She whimpered.Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants and readied my rod. After slapping my cockhead against her molten labia a few times,“What? You don’t want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?”Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative.“Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?” I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. My cock rose up, Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture my penis on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing in.All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered her pussy into my pelvis with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me.I snatched up Rhada’s knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me.“No,” Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me.Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like’, or 'let me explain’ to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster.“What are you going to do?” I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment.“How could you?” Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back.“There is no way I can explain this,” I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada’s knife. “Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn’t put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.” Okay, that last bit was bullshit.“Is Rhada okay?” Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later’. I freed Rhada’s hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it.“Ask her yourself,” I suggested. Sensing Rhada’s insanity rising up. “No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won’t allow it.”Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn’t understand.“Rhada, I came here to save you,” Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight.“You came to take my Cáel for yourself,” Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all.“I need to…get something from my backpack,” I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada.“You brought a change of clothes for her?” Oneida was still playing 'kinky games’ catch up.“Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,” Rhada seethed.“How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around…?” Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her.“None of this makes any sense,” Oneida protested. It didn’t matter.“Oneida, are your guardians close by?” I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant.Oneida nodded.“Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I’ll try to have this make sense to you one day,” I said.“No!” Rhada yelped as if I’d stuck her. “I cannot wait any longer.”“Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,” I insisted. I wasn’t afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn’t waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away.Rhada looked at me as if she’d witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida’s way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk’ and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I’d pay the bill later.(Friday Morning)I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner’ security types.Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn’t look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up.What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me.“Cáel Nyilas,” the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG’s) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was.A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn’t recognize.“Have I just won Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?” I grinned foolishly. I’m sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I’m not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me.“Let go,” one of them hissed.“Do I at least get a claim check?” I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell…not an elevator and down I went.Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'fuck it’ moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me.She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard.Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn’t try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall.I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I’d lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double.Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn’t going anywhere fast. I wasn’t done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position.“Stop that,” one of the guards stated.“I’d like to sit up, please,” I requested.With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions.“Thank you,” I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh?“They all said you would fight,” the leader grinned.“We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,” she informed me.“Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,” I said. “Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.”Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I’d cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum.“Is there any way I could make a video message?” I inquired.“No,” was the reply.“Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I’m okay, but won’t be able to see her for a while,” I pled my case.“You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?” another asked.“I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,” I explained.“Save some of that defiance for your relocation,” the leader snickered. “You’ll need it.”“Thanks. I will,” I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious.“You’ve accepted your fate?” the one I’d knocked out questioned.“The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,” I shrugged.“Bravado,” a different Amazon snorted.“You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I’m left with,” I stared at her. “I’ve beaten your ilk enough times to know I’ll escape that life before too long.”That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring.“When is the meeting?” I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation.She didn’t look surprised. She hid it well.“What meeting?” she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest.“Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?” I looked up.“What do you know?” she prodded. The others were now watching.“I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I’ve been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,” I laid out my case.“If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?” the leader wondered.“I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,” I mused.“I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,” I answered. “Their friendship and affection is pointless. I’m good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.”“You sound angrier than your words indicate,” an Amazon noted.“I am angry. I don’t desire death,” I shrugged. “I don’t think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.”“What would that be?” the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom.“Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That’s a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,” I stated.“Does that fantasy make you feel better?” she pressed, somewhat amused.“Of course not,” I laughed. “That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.”“You know nothing of us,” she said and the others laughed.“Yeah…right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?” I grinned. “Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,” I chuckled. “Sterile females, deformed babies…you taught those men a lesson alright.”“You are all such epic bad-asses, you’ve butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you’ve got your racial superiority, right?” I chortled.“You should shut up now,” the leader’s eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence.An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise.“Get dressed,” she ordered.“Why?” I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time.“You will do it because you’ve been told to do it,” Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. “Help me get him dressed,” she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I’d dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps.I ended up farther down that I’d ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively.“He has been summoned,” Constanza informed the door guards.One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden’s chair.“Stand there,” Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it.“Sure,” I did as I was instructed. “Why am I here?”“Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,” Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me.My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt…because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine.Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn’t know.“Good morning Cáel Nyilas,” she said. “This is my cousin, Arwen.”The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain’t easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor.“Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?” Katrina smirked.“Cut me some slack, Boss. I’m three insults away from slinging poo,” I grinned back.“Nice to meet you, Arwen,” I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn’t shake. “She’s your apprentice?” I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. “That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?”“She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,” Katrina enlightened me.“What is her survival stratagem then?” I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina.“Have her cake and eat it too,” Katrina mused. “She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves…because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.”“I’m about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,” I shrugged. “Take care Katrina.”“Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,” Arwen 'clarified’ things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn’t get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough.Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn’t take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing.The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren’t sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden’s pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren’t afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer.The 'junior’ members started the chorus as the last 'senior’ joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down.“A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,” Hayden began. “A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.”And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden’s right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn’t know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti.Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward’ for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida’s life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet.“I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,” Hayden announced. “Does anyone have other salient points to add?”That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention.“I do, High Priestess,” the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused.“I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,” Hayden nodded then resumed seating.“My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,” Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant.(1)“First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,” Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. “At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.”Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order.(2) “Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn’t for the New Directive.”“As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,” Shawnee looked around the table. “At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter’s life.”“As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense…unless,” Shawnee’s face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. “Thus I had Cáel’s genetic identity tested, to see if…”“To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,” Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order.“Oh Ursula,” Shawnee smirked, “the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti’s sins and the Council’s decision.”“But…” Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon’s looked my way, clearly bewildered.“We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,” Shawnee stated. “We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.”“Who?” Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far.(3)“Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,” Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. NOT good.The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side.That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn’t part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision.“You are all incorrect,” the unknown tablet-reader spoke.Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling.“Elsa, who is that?” I whispered.“Krasimira, Keeper of Records,” Elsa quietly informed me.“What…what do you mean?” Messina, Fabiola’s Mom stammered.“Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,” Krasimira related.“So?” Ursula remarked. “He’s still a male.”Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old.“He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel’s ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.”“He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,” an old enemy from Egypt chimed in.“Perhaps,” Krasimira nodded. “That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.”“There is no Head of House Ishara!” Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair.“Again, you are incorrect,” Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. “There is a Head of House Ishara and he’s standing right there.” Even Hayden had a problem with that.“But he’s male,” Hayden declared.“That is Irrelevant,” Krasimira said.“To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,” she quoted Amazon law, “so he is House Ishara’s head.” Silence reigned.“Gun,” I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” I growled. Elsa didn’t look for guidance. She wasn’t that type. She drew her .45 automatic and put in in my hand.“The safety is engaged,” she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my’ seat.“One more step and I’ll shoot you where you stand,” Ursula threatened.“No you won’t,” Saint Marie stood. “I’ll kill you first.”“Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,” Hayden explained. “I don’t like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.”There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn’t stop because that wouldn’t be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First’ House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First’ Houses as well.The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower.It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn’t forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves.I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn’t be sitting in it.“I will stand for House Ishara,” I announced. “I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.”“No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,” I kept going. “Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I’m not going to start now.”“You insult us,” Messina stood up. Five other women joined her.“By all means,” Katrina stood, “we eagerly await your challenge.” Eight other women joined her. I hadn’t suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First’ Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup.Messina’s backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn’t going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That’s why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons.They couldn’t make them 'not-Amazons’ and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they’d never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill.No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children…sure, let’s walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he’d obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I’d worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this fucked-up language.I’d re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I’d like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I’d like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever.Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible.I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man…with two axes. That was…no I couldn’t accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus.Oneida hadn’t been trapped by madness and pride. She’d been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She’d seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she’d had to save me and she couldn’t tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn’t the time to ask.I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee’s head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida’s head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn’t like those ideas.“Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?” I mocked them.“You don’t…,” a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out.“They didn’t sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,” I glared. “They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you fucked up.”Tons of 'how dare you’ and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence.“Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice’s’ throat?” I posed. I could see the 'no’ forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head.“Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,” I explained. “You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host…and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I’m wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.”“You are correct,” Krasimira said. “All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.” What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess.The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona’s house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass.The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal…that was the issue now. Ms. Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process.“What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?” she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest.“Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?” I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips.“I am not sure Cáel,” Hayden responded. “Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.”“He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,” Fatima stated.“His status is not in question,” Hayden purred. That was the 'I’m about to lose patience with you’ purr.“I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?” I inquired.“I don’t know you, or your ways,” Fatima spat.“You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,” I snorted. “So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don’t know me.”“If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,” I stated.“After all, they risked everyone’s anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti’s long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn’t do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,” I challenged the Host.“You trained your monkey well,” Messina mocked Katrina.“Ah…” I mused as I picked up my pistol. “Safety.” I got a feel for the weapon. “Messina, what’s the name of your 'apprentice’?”“You wouldn’t dare,” Messina hissed.“You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,” I smiled insanely. “Why do you think I’ll let you get away with that? I’m not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.”“Pull that trigger and you will die,” Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events.“Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,” I pointed out.“Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down…please,” Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare’ coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina’s hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time.“Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?” the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. “I don’t like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.”“Wait! Hayden, now that I’m…” I got all excited.“No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady’,” Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths.“Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady’?” this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn’t one of my fans.“Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,” I revealed. “I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.”It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair.“You are very poetic,” another commented.“That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,” I informed them.“Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,” Ursula griped.“In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?” Hayden countered. “He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because HE values our traditions.”“He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,” Hayden lectured the room. “Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?”“He said 'What. Had enough already?’” she snorted. “Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.”“This is not a humorous matter,” Egypt Senior was still cranky.“I don’t know about that,” Saint Marie reposed. “I found it to be fun actually.”“Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,” Saint Marie continued.“Pity he missed you,” Messina glared.“He didn’t miss me, Messina,” Saint Marie sneered. “I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He’s not disloyal, just pugnacious.”“What of Arinniti’s crime?” Beyoncé prodded. She wasn’t feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn’t let go of the fact they’d lost.That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina’s goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented.If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was fucked. Let’s not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain.A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti’s 'omission’ of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash’ brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren’t erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons.I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly’ Amazons shot me a remark.“I supposed you are elated,” she grumbled.“Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you’ll have an inkling of how I feel,” I smiled serenely.“You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,” she got truly pissy.“Lady, I won’t be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,” I kept smiling.“Until then, I’m afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,” I added.“Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?” she salivated at the prospect.“Sure. I’ll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I’ll meet you downtown at noon,” I proposed.It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They’d have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch.“Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds; in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed,” Hayden instructed.“Thank you. I appreciate that,” my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth.“My judgment wasn’t for you, Cáel. You’ve caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us,” Hayden gave me a truly serene response. “Give me a little time to prepare.”“Oh! Great idea,” I exclaimed. “Gotta go!” and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun.“Should I shoot him?” Elsa suggested. “Only to slow him down a bit.” I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter.I caught one of the 'hater’ juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly.“Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff,” I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over.Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme.“What did you do that for?” her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn’t knock the device out of my hands.“I don’t know,” she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back.“Your 'apprentice’ has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts,” I nodded gravely. “What is your name?”“Gale,” she batted her eyelashes. “What did I do?”“What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. “I’ll explain it then.”“You may not spend time with this…person,” Senior insisted.“We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House,” Gale countered.Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat; yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I’d introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy’s room until I got Gale warmed up after all.I was the first one of the 'team’ to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina’s office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk.“Is this going to be really bad, or really good?” Desiree mused.“Why should you have to choose?” I laughed. “Besides, we are aiming for epic status today.”“Why are we here?” Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!’ moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn’t given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass.“Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry,” I looked at her expectantly.“My pleasure,” Desiree rocked up from her seat. “Slapping then knife?” I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered.“Can anyone join?” Buffy asked Paula.“I…I don’t think so,” Paula shook her head. “He’s got a plan. I don’t know what for.” I dodged Desiree’s final swing. I had gathered enough tears; I hoped.“That was truly therapeutic, Cáel,” Desiree stated. “Let me know if you need a repeat performance.” She handed me her small knife.Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens.“Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages,” I requested.“What the hell?” Buffy growled. “What is this about?”“Trust me,” I met her gaze.“Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he’s not crazy. He’s up to something,” Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina’s desk.“Come forth and kneel before me,” I commanded.This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm…Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost…I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes.“There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz,” I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. “With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors.” That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy’s eyes evaporated.I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits.“With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield,” I met her gaze. She started crying.“You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth,” I continued on. “You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts.” Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking’, the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later.“House Ishara is dead,” Daphne stated the obvious.“Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House,” I started. I motioned for my two House-mates…members to rise.“The Second Betrayal,” Violet interrupted.“Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me; being here; today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too,” I recalled recent edited events.“By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or…” I continued.“The eldest of the house,” Daphne gasped. “Since Ishara is…since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host.”“You don’t have to be a female?” Desiree muttered. “That’s insane. We are Amazons.”“There hasn’t been a male in the host for over 2500 years,” I explained. “It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren’t enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female’ was redundant.”“That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd,” Paula muttered. We all looked at her. “What? Since I met Cáel, I’ve been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall.”“Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory,” I lied.“So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?” Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years.“Why do you think I called Buffy first?” I snickered.“I won’t let you down,” Buffy declared with grim determination.“Calm down, Buffy,” I assured her. “I don’t think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They’ve already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation.”“So why did you pick me…and Helena?” Buffy studied me.“Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know,” I told her. “You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next.”“Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around,” Buffy’s eyes grew bright.“Which reminds me; can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two,” I begged my 'new hire’ companions.“I’ll take two nights a week,” Daphne offered.“I’ll take one night,” Paula added.“I’ll take a fourth,” Violet completed the set.“Damn it,” Desiree cursed. “This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors.”“You are right,” Buffy gasped. “I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now.”“One note; I don’t vote,” I informed them. “I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I’m keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights.”Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life; only tradit

The New York Times recently took its readers to a small village in the southern Peloponnese, Iklaina, where archeologists have uncovered a site that is opening a new window into the world of the Mycenaean civilization, the world described by Homer in the Iliad and Odyssey. Dr. Michael Cosmopoulos, the endowed Professor of Greek studies and Professor of Archaeology at the University of Missouri, St. Louis, who is leading excavations at this site, joins Thanos Davelis to break down why these discoveries are changing the way we understand the world of the Mycenaean Greeks, who lived at the crossroads of history and mythology, and why this matters today. You can read the articles we discuss on our podcast here:Unearthing Everyday Life at an Ancient Site in GreeceDramatic rescues as boats sink off Greece; at least 21 deadGreece crafts response to Turkish moves

Mycenaean Greece was one of the glittering jewels of the late Bronze Age world, but it fell to pieces in dramatic fashion: burned palaces, abandoned settlements, and the end of a centuries-old political tradition. Nor was Greece the only place in the Aegean to suffer: On the Asian side of the sea, a city we know as Troy was among those destroyed at this time. Was this the context that, centuries later, gave rise to Homer's famous tale of the Trojan War?Patrick's book is now available! Get The Verge: Reformation, Renaissance, and Forty Years that Shook the World in hardcopy, ebook, or audiobook (read by Patrick) here: https://bit.ly/PWverge Listen to new episodes 1 week early, to exclusive seasons 1 and 2, and to all episodes ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App https://wondery.app.link/tidesofhistory.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Professor Kozlowski contextualizes the writings of Homer according to the archaeological and historical evidence of the Greek culture from its earliest origins in the Cycladic, Minoan, and Mycenaean cultures, through the Bronze Age Collapse and subsequent Dark Age, to the very beginning of the Classical era. Along the way we'll examine what Homer got right about the Bronze Age, what he imported from the Iron Age, and what that might mean about his sources, the tradition of Greek Epic, and his own artistic priorities. If you have questions or topic suggestions for Professor Kozlowski, e-mail him at profbkozlowski2@gmail.com To see what else Professor Kozlowski is up to, visit his webpage: https://professorkozlowski.wordpress.com/

  In this episode archaeologist Dimitri Nakassis talks about two kinds of archaeological work in southern Greece—a pedestrian survey of the countryside, and a salvage excavation of a Mycenaean cemetery. What happens when farmers plow up archaeological material? What can archaeologists learn from tombs that have been looted? What are some ways in which local people can be better connected to their heritage and thereby better protect it? We address these and other topics, including the usefulness of goats!     More to see, read, and hear: On the Western Argolid Regional Project and archaeological survey: https://westernargolid.org/ van Andel, Tjeerd H. and Runnels, Curtis N.. Beyond the Acropolis: A Rural Greek Past, Redwood City: Stanford University Press, 2022. (https://www.sup.org/books/title/?id=3166). On Agia Sotira and Mycenaean tombs in general: Smith, R. Angus K., et al. Ayia Sotira: A Mycenaean Chamber Tomb Cemetery in the Nemea Valley, Greece. INSTAP Academic Press, 2017. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt1v2xtrn. Murphy, Joanne M. A. Death in Late Bronze Age Greece : Variations on a Theme / Edited by Joanne M.A. Murphy (University of North Carolina Greensboro). Oxford University Press, 2020. (https://global.oup.com/academic/product/death-in-late-bronze-age-greece-9780190926069?cc=us&lang=en&).      

Mediterranean, Aegean, Pirates. In the 14th Century BCE, records from Egypt hint at piracy and raiding across the sea. And artistic images even show Mycenaeans(?) at the pharaoh's court. All of this may reflect the history behind great stories like the Odyssey...Date: c.1400 - 1300 BCE. Music: Michael Levy, "Odysseus and the Sirens," www.ancientlyre.com. Audio editing by www.yourpodcastpal.com. See the "Mycenaean Papyrus" at the British Museum website. Mycenaean pottery from Amarna, at the Petrie Museum University College London. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Or, the Life Aquatic with Gold Scarabs... Around 1325 BCE (estimates vary) a vessel sank near the cape of Uluburun, Turkey. The cargo was immense: twenty tonnes of goods, including copper, ivory, ornamental objects, spices, and more. Amid the finds, a curious item came to light: a gold scarab, bearing the name Neferneferuaten Nefertiti... What was a Nefertiti scarab doing on a trade ship, far from Egypt? And what do the finds tell us about the ship, its crew, and ancient trade?The Uluburun Shipwreck:Date: c.1325 BCE (estimated).Cultures: Multiple, including Egyptian, Canaanite, Syrian, and Mycenaean.Ship destination: Possibly the Aegean, western Anatolia, or even the Balkans.Logo image: Divers working on the Uluburun wreck, via The Institute of Nautical Archaeology website.Catalogue of objects in Beyond Babylon, 2008. Free pdf from MMA.Image gallery at The Institute of Nautical Archaeology website.Artefacts in the Bodrum museum, on Flickr.com.Miscellaneous items, at Wikimedia.A replica of the ship, Uluburun II, at Underwater360.A lecture by Cemal Pulak, one of the lead excavators. YouTube.References:G. Bass et al., ‘The Bronze Age Shipwreck at Ulu Burun: 1986 Campaign', American Journal of Archaeology 93 (1989), 1–29.C. M. Monroe, ‘Sunk Costs at Late Bronze Age Uluburun', Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 357 (2010), 19–33.C. Pulak, ‘Analysis of the Weight Assemblages from the Late Bronze Age Shipwrecks at Uluburun and Cape Gelidonya, Turkey, Volume I', Unpublished PhD. Thesis, Texas A&M University (1996).C. Pulak, ‘The Uluburun Shipwreck: An Overview', The International Journal of Nautical Archaeology 27 (1998), 188–224.C. Pulak, ‘The Uluburun Shipwreck and Late Bronze Age Trade', in Beyond Babylon: Art, Trade, and Diplomacy in the Second Millennium B.C. (2008), 289–310. Book available free, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.C. Pulak, ‘Uluburun Shipwreck', in The Oxford Handbook of the Bronze Age Aegean (2012), 863—876.C. Pulak, lecture on YouTube.J. Weinstein, ‘The Bronze Age Shipwreck at Ulu Burun: 1986 Campaign, Part 3: The Gold Scarab of Nefertiti from Ulu Burun: Its Implications for Egyptian History and Egyptian-Aegean Relations', American Journal of Archaeology 93 (1989), 17–29. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

With the collapse of the Bronze Age the Hittite Empire which had dominated Anatolian lands would vanish from the world stage. Its presence and legacy would only be rediscovered in our modern times showing the influence it once held. With its destruction the region of Anatolia would fragment into many small kingdoms and principalities looking to exert control in their immediate areas.With the passage of time, recovery would take hold seeing conditions arise for the establishment of another empire to spread its influence into Anatolia. Though, internal problems would see that outside pressure would lead to the decline of the Neo-Assyrians, thanks to the Medes and Babylonians. But they would not be the next great empire to emerge. The Persians would rise up out of obscurity and incorporate the Medes into their newly created empire, before then expanding to include much of Asia Minor.Meanwhile over on the West coast of Anatolia, the Greeks had been arriving on the shores, from across the Aegean. Perhaps the collapse of Mycenaean civilisation seen the first influx of Greeks, but the migrations would continue. This would end up seeing a great many Greek cities dot the Anatolian coast line and see such areas as Ionia form. Though, they had not settled in lands that were empty, with hostile and friendly interactions taking place.One of the largest powers to have developed in the western part of Anatolia during the period the Greeks were settling, was the Lydian kingdom. They would be seen to have roots stretching back into the Bronze Age, though it would be their third and final dynasty that would enter the pages of history. By the time of the last Lydian king, Croesus, all the Greek cities of Ionia would no longer be free but under the Lydian Empire, well that was until ever expanding Persia arrived on the eastern Lydian boarder. Cyrus the Great of Persian would defeat the Lydians and absorb them into his empire, the largest yet seen. The Greeks, would not gain their freedom, but would now answer to a new master. Casting Through Ancient Greece WebsiteFollow on TwitterFollow on FacebookSupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/castingthroughancientgreece)

Well, it's our first episode of the new year and boy, do we have a kick ass guest to help ring in 2022! Stopping by to drop some knowledge on us about Mycenaean architecture and Lovecraftian horror is author, film critic, and desktop game designer, Josephine Maria Yanasak-Leszczynski! Dark City may not seem like your standard Lovecraft-inspired genre film at first, but Josephine lays out the case for how it effectively the 1998 sci-fi/noir film incorporates Lovecraft's penchant for pulling from multiple sources and how it plays with the concept of cyclopean environments. It's easy to forget that Dark City after came before The Matrix, seeing as how oddly similar the seminal and influential film from the Wachowskis was whereas Dark City was just kind of...forgotten (unless you're Roger Ebert). Sure, the city may be one of the most poorly thought out science experiments in the history of movies brought down by a half-baked Neo, but it was great to think that studios once spent money on weird, original ideas -- even if they did ultimately end up tinkering with them too much. Follow Josephine on Twitter @JMYales and check out their website where you can find their prequel to "The Shadow Over Innsmouth," "A Coven in Essex County." Check out The Cast of Cthulhu on Facebook or Twitter and email any questions or comments to moviesofmadness@gmail.com.

Homer - The Odyssey - Episode 1 - Greek Gods, Greek Heroes And One of The Oldest Epic Poems Of All Time!   Hi, I'm Christy Shriver and we're here to discuss books that have changed the world and have changed us.    And I'm Garry Shriver and this is the How to Love Lit Podcast.  This week we embark on a seafaring adventure across the seas and through time to the ancient world of the Greeks to meet  someone who some have said is the greatest poet to have ever lived- Homer- and his second epic- The Odyssey.      To be honest, I think I agree with that assessment.      That's high praise. How does one get to that level?    I know.  It really is.  I guess, one way of looking at it may be attrition- how many poets do we still read from 3000 years ago.  That's not a large club.   We certainly don't have anyone in the English language canon that is competitive, but it's more than Homer basically invented the coming of age novel with the Telemachaie; he invented the flawed hero, as I choose to understand Odysseus.  In many ways, his epics, although they are poems, are pre-runners to modern day novels.   They are pre-cursors to fantasy.  Heck, even the success of the Marvel movies to me suggest a thinly veiled nod to Homer.  What is Superman or Wonder Woman if not demi-gods?    Well, if I may weigh in, although I don't feel even remotely qualified to suggest someone is the greatest poet to have ever lived, but what impresses me the most is the level of psychological and archetypal insights into the nature of man that crosses through culture.  Of course, I've heard of a lot of the characters and several of the stories, but I was impressed by how relatable Odysseus is.  And although so many of his adventures at sea are fantastical- they feel like hyperbolic expressions of what I go through- For example, what is Scylla and Charybdis if not being caught between a rock and a hard place?  Another thing that fascinates me is the order he wrote them in- at least the order as we think them- the first one, The Iliad, and then some years later, as an older man, The Odyssey.  That's also psychologically interesting- The Iliad has its version of a hero- Achilles is idealistic, proud in large and obvious way, self-righteous, vindictive even.         It's young man's idea of heroism versus The Odyssey and its version of heroism- a much more nuanced.  He also gets revenge, but it's slow and not very reactionary- he plots, he lies, he bides his time- things we learn by life beating the hound out of us.      I think that is well said.  Studying Homer for me is also very intimidating historically.  There is so much history and culture- beyond just the language differences just between my world and Homer's- 2600 years- give or take.  The language is different.  The culture is different. The geography and the religion are literally worlds and worlds away, and I'm not very confident I can understand the context.  And if that weren't scary enough, when you realize that Homer may have been describing events that may have preceded him by perhaps another 400- 1000 years or so, depending on who you believe- I just get lost in the math.  I might as well be saying, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…”.   It's foreign and mysterious.  Lizzy asked me today as I was sitting on my computer reading some research on the Mycenaens what book I was working on and I said, “Research for ‘Homer's The Odyssey'” – to which she replied, “Sounds boring.”  And Lizzy listens to our podcasts!!  But on the screen of my computer were broken pieces of pottery and archeological data, not super-man and wonderwoman.    Ha!  Well, if you can't guilt-trip your family members into listening to you, even if you are boring, what hope do you have?  But, I totally understand where she's coming from, over the years, I've taught a lot of history from US to Europe to World, and the Ancient World, and I love it.  I will admit, though, even though a lot can be fascinating with the ancients, there's no doubt the farther back in time you go, it can be very difficult to conceptualize.  It is also a lot more guesswork.  Ancient Greece feels far away because it IS far away, and often we don't know what we're looking at when we see it. I hate to keep coming back to the arrogance of the present, but we really have to guard against looking at ancient peoples as primitive thinkers just because their technologies were not advanced.  I mean, honestly, which of us could survive one week on an island?  I think Survivor has proven that that's not happening.    Ha!  Those people always lose so much weight! Survivor also proves that the most cunning and deceptive you are- Odysseus style, the more likely you are to survive, but getting back to the historical side of it.  Did the Trojan war really happen?  And if it did, what was it?      That's a great question.  For years and years, even centuries- the greatest minds said no.  If Troy existed, we would know it.  And just for context, in case you are unfamiliar with the story, the story goes that there was a woman, today we call her Helen of Troy, but she wasn't Trojan, she was Greek, and she ran away with a young lover- named Paris- to a city called Troy across the ocean.  Her sister's husband, King Agamemnon, launched 1000 ships and all the Greek kings and heroes to get her back for her husband Menelaus.   The war to get Helen back took ten years before the Greeks were finally able to penetrate the wall, theoretically using a gigantic horse and a gimmick devised by Odysseus.  The story goes that Odysseus and a few others hid inside this gigantic horse.  Everyone else hid and pretended to return to Greece.  They left the horse there claiming that it was a gift to the god, Poseidon.  The Trojans brought the horse inside the gate, Odesseus came out, unlocked the gate and the Greeks sacked the city.    For forever, no one thought this place even existed with any real certainty.  We couldn't find it.   Until an outrageous and bombastic but exceedingly wealthy amateur self-proclaimed archeologist by the name of Heinrich Schliemann set out to find it in the 1860s and actually did.      Outrageous and bombastic sounds kind of like code for a schmuck?    Well, he did have a few personal issues as well as professional ones.  For one thing, he wasn't trained in archeology, so he just went around blasting everything he saw – to the point that- Historian Kenneth Harl has said that Schliemann's excavations did to Troy what the Greeks couldn't do, destroy and level the city walls to the ground.    Oh no, that's terrible.       Well, it really is and he destroyed a lot of history.  He wanted so badly to get to the jewels belonging to Helen of Troy that he actually blasted through the actual walls of the city.  But, that being said, there is something to the fact, that he actually found the walls of the city and was something no one had done before him.  He found tons of gold and all kinds of very important things- he claimed his loot belonged to people like King Priam and Agamemnon including a very important solid gold.  One of the most famous is still called The Mask of Agamennon.  This, of course, has mostly been debunked by actual archeologists who know how to properly date archeological finds, but that being said, he found stuff that is real and validated many of the events referenced by Homer, albeit in myth form.   And if you ever  have the opportunity to visit Athens, you can see the mask of Agamennon in the National Archeological Museum.  Anyway, The best historical sources we have suggest that the Trojan war actually happened and took place around 1183 BC.  Not everyone is willing to say it lasted ten years or that was fought on the scale the Homer describes with thousands of ships, but we now believe it did happen.    Well, we are less likely to believe it was sparked by petty gods and goddesses and fought by demi-gods fathered by goddesses who dip their children in magical rivers that make them mostly immortal.  But I will say, I wish they would find a mask of Helen.  I would love to see what the uncontested most beautiful woman in human history, daughter of Zeus.      True, Christy, there is so much I don't know about all the myths of the gods and goddesses, and before I started researching for this podcast seris, honestly, I thought the story of the Illiad was the story of the Greeks sacking Troy.  I have to admit I got my information from the movie Brad Pitt made called Troy.  There are so many gods and goddesses and furies and nymphs and creatures and shapeshifters.  It's overwhelming.      True, the Illiad ends with the death and funeral of the Trojan hero, Hector,  and his father very sadly begging for his body and returning it home- not the sack of Troy.  In other words, the Greeks haven't won.  That's a story you get from other places.  The Odyssey references the Trojan horse when Telemachus goes to visit his father's old war buddies, but there is not a Homeric version of the Brad Pitt movie.  I was disappointed to find that out myself.     Speaking of things that have proven disappointing about Homer, One of those things is that we don't know him or even if there IS a him.    I know this is controversial and not universally accepted, but I will say from the get-go, that I am of the persuasion that Homer was an actual person who actually composed both pieces.  Although I'm sure there was a collection of traditional myths, like we saw with the Iroquois confederacy that were passed down orally from generation to generation, I believe that there was a man named Homer who drew from the myths kind of like Shakespeare did in our English tradition from popular stories he knew people recognized, and he composed his own pieces- one being the Iliad- where he doesn't retell the entire story of the war, but focuses on one hero and one aspect of it- and the other being the Odyssey- where he again focuses on one person.  Obviously I'm not an archeologist or a university professor with a degree in classical studies and I'm not prepared or qualified to argue with anyone who is.  But, I've read enough from those who are to convince me of that.    Do we know anything about Homer at all, assuming as you do, that he existed?    Not really- to be honest.  Most traditions claim that he was blind, although I can't find any real compelling reason for that belief except there's a blind poet named Demodacus in the Odyssey that sings at the court of the Phaeacian king- which I wouldn't think means anything at all, except that the ancients themselves took it for something- so if they believed it, maybe it was so.  Oh, This is interesting, there is one tradition that believes Homer was a woman- based in large part to the prominence Homer gives women in the text- that's my favorite theory, but a minority view for sure.  No ancient scholars were making that claim.  Tradition, and by tradition, we're talking about a couple thousand of years- so that's a long time for a tradition to develop- but traditional views consider him to have been  a male bard, or what today we call a professional singer/songwriter.  No one really knows where he's from.  Although, at least seven different places claim him; the most convincing arguments, at least for me, suggest he came from islands that are actually closer to Turkey then mainland Greece- more specifically the island Chios which is in the Aegean sea but close to Smyrna, modern day Izmir.  But maybe he came from Ios or Cyme.        If you are not all that well acquainted with the geography of the Mediterranean Sea or the Aegean ocean, I'll try to create a mini-map in your mind's eye.  Think of the big Mediterranean sea being a like a giant lake, and mainland Greece jets kind of halfway between Turkey and Italy with all of these scattered islands everywhere that go with it.  So, the part of the water that is between Greece and Turkey we call the Aegean Sea.  I don't want to oversimplify to people who know their maps, but, I've learned over the last couple of years, it's harder for those of us who use GPS  all the time to see the world in terms of maps, the way we old-schoolers used to have to do all the time- no disrespect. I definitely love my GPS over a paper map- but there's the trade-off.   I guess a good linked-in question might be, do we need maps anymore?      Anyway, Ancient Troy or modern day Hissarlik is on the north side of this inlet.  If you go down about 120 towards the Mediterranean you run into Chios and Smyrna.  Both of these places are about 158 miles across the ocean from Athens.  So, today, by modern standards they don't take long to get from one to the other, but obviously if you make the gods make, like Odysseus did, it can take up to 10 years.  But, Garry, beyond the geography of Greece being so different from other parts of the world because it's so based around a culture of the sea, I have trouble understanding the different periods- the Bronze Age, the Iron Age, all that stuff.  Can you give us a two minute crash course?    Sure, well we usually call what you're talking about this age of the early Greek glory years where they built the big palaces with the gigantic walls with the gods and heroes that were larger than life- the Mycenaean civilization- and the dates for that, generally speaking, are between 1650-1200 BC.  We really don't think of the Myceans as having a writing system like we think of today-  they likely had some ways of using script perhaps to mark things for business, but the culture and stories were passed down by an oral tradition.  The most important city-states, at least this is what we think today, were some of the ones we see in the Odyssey for example Mycenae was home to the legendary King Agamemnon and Pylos was the home of King Nestor.  All of these city states worshiped the same gods and spoke the same language, but politically, they had different kings.  Kings had to be strong.  Piracy was a way of life and not even considered immoral.  We think today that these people were highly aggressive and warlike amongst themselves as well as against outsiders.  They also made their armor out of Bronze- hence the Bronze Age.  So, back to the Iliad, Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, was the queen of Sparta.  If we referring back to your little mental map- Sparta, Mycenae and Pylos are on the other side of mainland Greece- the side closer to Italy.  The ruins from those cities show big walls and lots of wealth. Sparta is about 300 or so miles across the sea, pass the mainland and into the Aegean Ocean.  This would have been the warpath to Troy but honestly, we really don't know what happened and that is not even just about this particular war.  We don't know for sure what happened to any of these towns.  What we do know is something devastasted all of these beautiful city states.  They were burned to the ground and whatever happened caused this area to fall into a period called the Dark Age- because we know nothing about it.  Almost the only thing we really know is that during the Dark Age, there was a transition from Bronze weapons to the much stronger Iron ones.    The big changes and the big cultural movement that shaped the world- at least the Western world- like we think of today comes out of the next period- the one following the Dark Age. We call this one the Archaic period which we consider to be from 800-500BC.  This era as well as the next are where we get things we're familiar with like the Olympics, the new sophisticated writing system- the Greek alphabet- democracy- like we associate with Athens.  And to make things even more confusing, the big Greek guys that we think of- like Plato and Aristotle and the “Golden Age” do not coincide with Homer- they come much later.  So, it's a lot of history- for us on the American continent who are mostly immigrants from other parts of the world- be it Europe, Africa or Asia, it's more than we can really even conceptualize- our entire nation as we understand it as a nation is less than 250 years old.  If we add what we know of the Indigenous people like the Iroquois confederacy into our timeline -we still fall short by thousands of years- Dekcadeakoah wasn't born til 1200 AD, at least that's our best guess.  So- there's your historical context in the two minute nutshell.  Does that work?    Well of course, so- to summarize even more Homer, a man who comes this Archaic period 8th century BC,  was writing about people who claimed lived during the Mycenaean civilization a full 400 before his life time- so if we want to give Odysseus, the man, an age- he's like 3000 plus years old-  Like I said before- for me it is basically “A long time ago in an galaxy far far away”...and yet…it's not… I want to start out by reading the first page of Fagle's translation- and then let's jump into the story itself- because for me-and I mean to disrespect to history- you know I love history- but I think you will agree with me- that it's not the history of this story that has kept it around for 3000 years.  It's not the religion; it's not the culture.  Homer writes the story of our lives- all of our lives- and we keep coming back to it generation after generation for that reason.      Read page 77    Okay- Christy- I think there's one more thing I think we need to clarify- there are so many translations.  Does it matter?    Well, I think the answer to that is the same if you ask that question about translations of the Bible- whichever you like personally-- which I may add- if you want to compare when Odysseus lived with Biblical characters, Moses arguably lived about 200 years before Odysseus-my best guess from my looking at the most respected timelines for each of these guys – but I stand to be corrected -if you have an article that parallels the two histories, I'd love to see it- email it over.  The more important point- and in some sense this is true for any text- but it is especially true for ancient texts- it's not the nuance of the language that matters really at all.  It's the essence of the ideas of the stories- the universal truths.  Most of the millions who read these stories every year can't read the original Greek. And although those that can really talk about the beauty of  all that- that part is lost on us.   It's not the translation that is going to make or break the story.  The Rouse translation, which, by the way, is the one we used when I taught this text to freshmen in Wynne Arkansas, was the first one I knew and the only one I knew for a really long time.  I really like it because I know it.  But, the knock on it is that it's prose and the Odyssey was not written in prose.  It's by far one of the lesser respected ones today. A lot of people today prefer Robert Fagle's translation because his book is really easy to read but he tries to make it sound like poetry.     Well, for the record, I am using Rouse's translation. I picked up Fagles, but I ended up preferring Rouse's because I wanted to read the story in prose instead of verse, for me that's easier.  But just so I know, Christy, assuming we were Greek and could understand this as it was originally composed what would it be like.    Good question- not that anyone knows for sure- but the general understanding is that it was written in meter- dactylic hexameter to be exact.  DAH -duh-duh- One accented syllable with two unaccented syllables in a row and then each line would have six of these.  Now, this is just me, but I really compare these ancient bards to modern day rap artists.  The Bards that would go around singing these stories- would improvise- but would use the beat to kind of keep them on course- obviously it didn't sound like rap, but it's the same skill that we see rap artists do when they improvise and you wonder- how can they think of all those rhymes?  Well, the trick is to already have little phrases in your mind that you know will make your lines work.  In the case of the Greek bards, they would have these epithets, or phrases they would use to describe the names of different gods- these lines that keep repeating throughout- would help them keep up with the demands of the meter.  So what does that mean- that means when you hear them say, as we will “Bright-eyed Athena”- he's adding syllables to make the meter work.  If that makes sense.      So, the descriptions don't necessarily mean that her eyes are the most important thing about her- it's just to make the music work?     That's it exactly.  The thinking is we aren't supposed to read too much into those kinds of things.  Also, the bards themselves used a very specialized vocabulary which was a mixture of different Greek dialects in order to make it all work.   This is a tangent, but it's kind of interesting, there was a classical linguist named Milman Parry who really wanted to figure out how in the world Homer could memorize so many lines.  You know the Odyssey has over 12,000 lines.  Well, Parry, by studying modern day illiterate singer/songwriters in Bosnia.  He came to believe that Homer didn't memorize anything- he had these patterns, these phrases and names of the gods that he knew rhymed well and fit the pattern and he would just tell the story and improvise the language for every different audience- he'd end the lines with the phrases and patterns that rhymed.  Maybe like professional comedians who do comedy improv in “Who's line is it anyway?”  So, in my mind, a Greek bard is something between a cross between a rap artist and modern day improv comedian.     HA!  Well, there's some creative analogies, but I get it.  Honestly, the idea of improvising makes it cooler than if Homer just wrote a piece of writing and then just read/chanted/sang the same thing over and over again.  As a musician, it reminds me of what Jazz musicians do or even bands in general.  You know, and this is really going to sound nerdy, but every once in a while, I have some buddies that I've known from years ago- we all went to the same church at one time- but many have moved out of Memphis- but we get together about once a year and do something like this. We'll go to a friend's house with our instruments, bring up some good ole' rock and roll music that we like and just improvise.  We all know the songs, but the specific variations, solos- that sort of thing- will be just be stuff that we make up.    Parry thought a Homer show was exactly that- every time he performed The Odyssey it was totally new.  But again, this is all total speculation- no one knows.  It's just too long ago.  So- having said that, back to the question you asked, for most of our purposes none of this stuff really matters- the translation doesn't matter, that Homer may or may not even have been a person, or a male or a person with vision who wrote with letters at all- or that the text itself may not even have been a fixed text or a story with improvised performances- all of those things- all though interesting- are really not the reason we love these stories and teach them in the ninth grade- at least around here.  It's this Homeric universe- this fantastical story- this hyperbolic creation  that has magnified the human experience.  Homer gave us a  new way to conceptualize our world- and a way to feel about the events- both controllable and uncontrollable that plague our lives.  Every once in a while, someone shows up in the world that can produce such a space.  In some ways we could say that Tolkien did this with Middle Earth, that JK Rowling did it, that CS Lewis did it, even George Lucas did it- each of those artists conceptualize entirely new and different universes- and when we spend time in their work- whatever medium we use- can inhabit that universe.  We can understand our world better through their world- it's fantasy.  So, Homer was the first that we know of to do this at the scale in which he did.  This is not to say that there are not legends and stories that predate him- there most certainly are- but they don't exist, that I know of, in this full length single unit form- not like what we have with Homer.  But yet, there is more to it than even that, although that is quite a feat.    Homer defined reality for a large number of people for centuries- maybe even still- and I'm not sure those other writers that I just listed out can say that.  The Greeks for hundreds of years, were able to ground their reality on the backs of the principles, morals, the world view that was laid out in his work- The Illiad and The Odyssey.  It helped people answer basic questions like- how do I conduct myself in the world.        Let's look at those first lines again and go through them-    “Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.”    Christy, is Homer telling us his entire story in the first lines.    Yes- of course he is- first of all, I do want to point out that Homer does not take credit for his story.  He is going to say it was given to him from a Muse.  That's interesting and really Jungian- so, I'll let you speak to that since that's your cup of tea-    Ha!  Well, he's basically saying, it's not that he made up the story- but he found the story or the story found him-the Muse is the originator- the idea being that the story existed before him in some larger context- that there is something here greater than he is.    And of course, all religious traditions speak to this reality, but since you referenced Jung, so does psychology.  There is something greater… and that is his starting point.    Exactly, and then he brings up why we love Odysseus- he was a man of twist and turns.  You know James Joyce who wrote that incredibly complicated masterpiece Ulysses was asked why he wrote his masterpiece about Odysseus- Ulysses is the Roman way to say Odysseus- and he famously responded that he was the only complete man in literature.  Odysseus, as we are going to see is a different kind of hero.  In the Iliad which is the book that came first, the Achilles is a demi-god. He's perfect.  He is totally beautiful, totally powerful, totally honest- that is something he took pride in. He never had to lie, he never had to back down- he was bigger and stronger and could overpower anyone.  That's not Odysseus- he was amazing- for sure.  But he wasn't the absolute biggest- he had to rely on lies- he sacked cities but he also got sacked himself- he had twist and turns- and for two reasons- on the one hand, the gods had agendas that had nothing to do with him that affected his world, but also he, himself,  made choices that steered him way off course.      Odysseus is a hero- for sure-   he definitely gets all the women- haha- if you want to look at it that way- but he's the kind of hero- we as mere mortals might aspire to be.  His life didn't turn out the way he wanted it, but he still wins at life- and actually he gets to make choices that allow him to live the kind of life he ultimately figures out he wants for himself.    Exactly- and Homer shows us how to make that happen.  In this Homeric universe that is safely far away- full of monsters and goddesses and magic- we can test drive some of the things we'd like to do if we could.  In this magical place we see consequences for things like running your mouth when maybe you shouldn't. But we can get some good ideas at how to get back when we're being exploited- ways that are smarter than just running our mouth.   Maybe by watching Odysseus we can get ideas about how to correct the course of our personal odyssey, we can figure out success that looks like for ourselves in our mundane realities. At least, that's the idea.    And yet, Christy, it is magical and otherworldly with characters we don't know.  I'll just be honest, as a person who doesn't know a lot about mythology, am I going to get confused the farther into this I read?  So far, so good, but I'll admit I haven't finished the whole thing yet.    Again, back to Homer's brilliance- the answer is NO.  Homer is going to build a pantheon of gods that is manageable and knowable.  And this is brilliant.  Just like other polytheistic faiths there are hundreds of gods in the Greek pantheon- but how do you wrap your brain around 600 or so? Homer is going to reduce it to a few- the Olympians.  He's going to create a hierarchy we can understand and he's going to personalize the gods so that we can know them.  As we read the story, we meet them little by little.  We learn who they are, what they value, how they operate- and of course- how we appease them and stay out of trouble. First and foremost- we meet Zeus- he's the chief, the god of the sky- protector and father of all the other gods and humans.      We're also going to learn an important principle, that will explain a lot about life- both to us and the ancients- there are things that are in the hands of the gods, but there are also things that are in our control.  We can control what we can control but then there are times we can strive hard and still meet disaster.  Sometimes, we have offended the gods; sometimes they just like us- sometimes we are just victims of happenstance.      Yes- exactly- and how do we account for that?  Let's keep reading…    Page 78    So, we met Zeus- he's the god of the sky- now we get to meet Poseidon- he's the god of the sea- he's Zeus' brother, but he is way more unpredictable and volatile- hence the behavior of the sea.  The big three are Zeus, Poseidon and Hades- God of the Sky, God of the Sea and God of the underworld.  We meet all three in the Odyssey- and in some sense, this brings order to a universe.      There are powers out there- things we can't see but that determine our fate- but are also arbiters of justice.  There is also a spiritual battlefield- spirits- invisible forces, however you want to understand the world- energy forces larger than our own humanity can see through our natural senses- there is a story that is larger than our story, but we play a part.   Sometimes we are just a speck in humanity, but other times we are not invisible, even to these larger forces.    Of course, as we think through this, although, not many of us adopt Greek mythology as our spiritual worldview, there is a lot there, that most of the world still accepts as truth- even if you're a monotheist.    Exactly- those are the major big boys- but there are a few others that we're going to meet.  We meet Hermes pretty quickly and we quickly understand his role in the role- he is a messenger.  He's Zeus' son, but not with his wife, Hera.  Zeus is always getting in trouble with his wife because he has fidelity issues.  But Hermes, as we will quickly learn is in charge of messages.        After we meet the men, we will slowly meet some of the important women of Olympus.  The first one here is probably my favorite goddess- Athena, she might be everyone's favorite goddess. She's a virgin, not controlled by a man, ha- but a goddess of both wisdom and war.  She's awesome.    I don't know that she's everybodies- Aphrodite has fans.      Yeah- you're right- but she's a trouble-maker.  Aphrodite makes you like fall madly in love with someone you know is no good for you- or be sexually compelled to do behave improperly.    Some would say that's low impulse control.      Yes- but those would not be the ancient Greeks.  They would say it's Aphrodite's fault- you are listening to her- that was Helen of Troy's problem.  But back to Athena    Athena seems she likes Odysseus.      She DOES!!  And that's how Odysseus wins.  Someone is watching over him and he is sensitive to her leading.  Athena is the goddess of wisdom, and Odysseus is attuned to this sense of wisdom in the universe.  She speaks to him, guides him, and most importantly, Athena enables Odysseus to always keep his cool. Odysseus, we will see, with a few exceptions, is led by wisdom- not by lust,  not by uncontrollable rage- by god-given wisdom.  Seeing people as being visited by outside forces that inspire them one way or the other is not a bad way of understanding why people are the way they are- even if you don't believe in gods and goddesses- which for the record, I don't personally, but this is my understanding of the ancient Greek worldview.  In the Homeric Universe, men and women are led by one god or goddess for the most part- not by a variety of different ones.  We mentioned that Helen of Troy is attune to Aphrodite, the goddess of sexual love- that's who's giving her direction.  But Odysseus is attuned and sensitive to Athena.  Athena takes credit not for Odysseus' strength, although he is strong, not for his ability with a bow and arrow, which we'll see he's pretty good at that too, but she takes credit for his wisdom.  The Odyssey is a story of this collaboration- there are things that we can't control, but there are things we can, and if we control the things we can, the universe, a goddess or someone outside of ourselves can and will intervene on our behalf with grace and kindness.  It's a way to organize our thinking about how the universe works- a very old way of thinking about how the universe works.     Let's quote Zeus here- again from the Fagles translation- as he explains the responsibility of humans- at this point in the story- Poseidon is out of town, so to speak- he's off in Ethiopia receiving offerings by the hundreds.  And with him away, Athena will make her play to save Odysseus' life, but we also see this philosophy of the Greeks explained here in the beginning of how and why things work out the way they do.    Page 78      But now let me read what Athena says back to her father= here she demonstrates the role the gods play in the destinies of man    page 79-       And so we have our narrative hook.  The gods will intervene in the destinies of men.  Calypso has been holding Odysseus hostage.  Hermes is being sent with a message from the gods forcing Calypso to release Odysseus.  At the same time this is happening,  Athena will visit Telemachus' Odysseus' son back in their hometown, Ithaca.  Telemachus was a newborn when Odysseus' left.  He is now 20 years old.  For ten years Odysseus fought in Troy.  Then after angering Poseidon, he spent the next ten years wandering lost at sea.  Telemachus has been left to be raised by his mother and a man named Mentor (guess where got that word).  Anyway, there is trouble in Ithaca which we'll find out about next episode, but more importantly than that, it is time for Telemachus to take his own journey and go out into the world on his own.        The Odyssey can easily be divided into three parts- the first four books are about Telemachus' journey to visit all of his father's war buddies.  The second part is Odysseus wandering around the magical seas, and the third is what he finds when he gets back to Ithaca, how he finds his beautiful and faithful wife and what he sees in his palace estate.  The first part, which we'll tackle. Next episode is about the coming of age from a boy to a man. After that we'll look at what all these seas trials are all about and then finally, we'll discuss some ideas about the famous finale in our finale.    Well, it sounds like we have a plan.  You know, the Iliad is a pretty straight forward narrative- a linear timeline and a kind of tragic ending.  The Odyssey is written in circles.  It's winding with endless setbacks but it has a happy ending.      I think that's exactly the right way to look at it.  They are both charming and enduring books but for different reasons, my book club recently just finished reading the latest take on the Iliad.  Madeline Miller wrote a novel called The Song of Achilles from the perspective of Patroclus that we read and really liked, but it was sad too.   If we ever analyze the Iliad, we'll get into the appeal of that book- it certainly is there- but if we just look at what's appealing the Odyssey – I think the ending is definitely a factor- many of us know what it's like to offend the gods, experience the wrath of Poseidon, maybe even the lures of Aphrodite or Circe – we've also likely been jilted by suitors or friend-enemies- as we call them nowadays- we can live vicariously through this steady under pressure goddess led hero- and maybe be inspired to face down our monsters- maybe we can even do a little listening for Athena and learn to bide our time and wreck havoc on our foes if we need to.  But mostly, we all want that heart-warming reunion after a long absence with our loved-ones and own home- we want to rest in the prophecy that old Greek prophet Tiresias gave Odysseus during his visit to the underworld- that when our time comes death will steal upon us a gentle painless death, far from the seas it comes to take you down, borne down with the years in ripe old age with all your people there in blessed peace around you.”