Podcasts about Penthesilea

Hana shines and Aya rises.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it.”My equilibrium decided to cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is only me, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy, hi Juanita," I hadn't spotted my designated bodyguard standing behind Chaz."Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious with you." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy."Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added to the regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not a fucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company," Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff."Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have a child," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with two Amazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past ten minutes."You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz dryly remarked."I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom, Deidre and Imogen, plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out the Titanic."Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamela smiled at her two grandsons."Cáel, are you going to tell your fiancée you've impregnated your aunt?" Chaz was back to being mildly sympathetic to my 'totally fucked-up' life."Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garner me enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing her drink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned.I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armed FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox (did you know when a Federal Agent adds 'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?) stood next to my chariot. She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of driving today.I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Her training involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course from the FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well as whatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced.Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind those scholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon') legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successful social instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectful manner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on the original horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform.Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (aka need to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortune cookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store. As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel of folks come down toward us from the fourth level.I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamela each went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in their jackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could fire through the stairs from beneath.Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the S U V because sending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefight did break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up while Virginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself.Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women, early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. A few looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, with no obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance. Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing."Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fiery red-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles. Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelic during orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other love interests?She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with a belly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans and soft leather calf-boots."Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering an all-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering."How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still be alive?" was Chaz's spin on things."We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where you suffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemming stampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled to Pluto because the Sun was too good for you."9, 10, 11 --12 of them looking, 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded me of my fiancée, another red-head, two russet and five with deep, dark brown, or black hair. They were all fit, fit, fit! With an air of 'I graduated college only to discover: 1) no one was hiring Saline Soil Scientists, or 2) I no longer want to do any of the things I wanted to do when I picked this major. I was familiar with both types.Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in to regale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of my bedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so, now I recalled; that particular excuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspicious come calling.I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered, a bit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment, so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangement had been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment at Havenstone.I'd neglected, telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd find a way to make it up to him later."Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off by the Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000 applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident."These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Sea resorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in the Northern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since, that would be the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years.""Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidae catastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using a Bortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending my ashes to Pluto," I explained.Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway, the owner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so, The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and made in Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km, which would leave me crash landing into the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, rendering me and my voles so much frozen food."You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped. Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights."Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don't want my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth's endangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because we suddenly feel bad about neglecting it.""E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her why she knew Maori later, right after I figured why Grandpa knew it."Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused."I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones. It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them."You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leader sighed."Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides, Ba ch ir fear a bheith ar eolas ag a gn omhais, n  a oidhreacht." (A man should be known by his deeds, not his heritage)."Sa ch s go bhfuil misneach, t  s il agam," she replied using my 'family' motto."Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van b tors ga, van rem ny," and "cesaret olduğu yerde umut vardır," all followed. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope' in Finnish, Hungarian and Turkish. I got the sneaking feeling this wasn't a college field trip gone awry. These chicks were coming at me with a purpose that included more than sexual gratification and a kiss good-bye. Ugh."Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of my personal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid I don't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date with my fiancée in a half-hour and will be taking notes at a feminist convention at 8, what can I do for you?" I was establishing my escape plan."We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned one smiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve of these girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight and the last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the Lacrosse Finals."What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted."We are the (Irish) 'Na conairte soith an   S aghdha ar', (Hungarian) 'A szuka kuty kat Herceg Nyilas', (Turkish) 'Prens ok u Kaltak K pekleri' and (Finnish) 'Narttu koirista prinssi jousimies'," they chorused.Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'the Bitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea)."You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irish choice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technically made them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was going to figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her."You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" I nearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back."Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'First Person Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants who joined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession!"Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience at all? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?""Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let you down.""You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?" Chaz sent me a chilling look."Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?" floated around."Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker' human suit to trick the masses.""Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up.By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their native countries, then left after their first term because they found military life to be boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and six of the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy was going to kill them, all twelve at once by herself."I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm a stone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will show up at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms and then warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, we are going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you will write this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet are foolish in practice. Do you accept?""How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and your Crusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked."All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quite extensive.""You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of the Turks blinked in disbelief."Yes. I am not disrespecting you, any of you. You've shown initiative, courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable and worthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also telling you is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat in single combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm only saying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."Their eyes flickered to Pamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, or appear harmless, as she wished."Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriors and in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostile individuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations.""The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three people who could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree, Chaz?""Absolutely," he concurred."We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smile and cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood."You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting her in the ass, not me. Yay?"You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz. That was Welsh, and meant Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow, I imagined his superiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us, him being a 'secret military operator', emphasis on the 'secret'."And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girl pointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret Spy Pamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone back to the origin of the name of Pamela, a fictitious 17th English novelist creation using mangled Hellenic, which translated as 'all-honey'.'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah, those twelve had combed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was and who Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when we were all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSH agent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me, the unspoken 'sidekick' thing.(For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', it really existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foil for James Bond.)"Chaz, since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, we must insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments, in person. I want to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who had thrown himself between me and an explosive vest, probably out of some psychic impulse that I would suffer far, far worse later, like in today, within less than 24 hours of said act."Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned."Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out."We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me."Oh yeah, fortune cookies," I mumbled."Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many of them are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of the Hungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter account. Odette, she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, but I had a feeling that was fading fast."Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on the third floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back."What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" to Chaz, then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught."I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting with some really shady characters and my fiancée," I informed them."Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to love that,""And then," Pamela continued."She is going to want a gun," I groaned.Oh goddess! No! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'."No, I have not," Chaz corrected me, about my mental ruminations."I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my new prospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards,"Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and "Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?""Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have six models," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten times a day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks for food, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is so damn fun."While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed (as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring off the sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incredibly happy smile."Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?"I wanted to cry.(A Family FUNction, minus the 'fun' part)My fiancée giving me a congenial and contented look. Good.My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hook up soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combo with a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, if you can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me.Brooke had joined the lunch group, sharing a smile and wink with Libra with the secret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this, hmm, lunch break Friday, yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks, minus the shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure.Hana was a saint for putting up with those two, and me.Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for the rest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. As for the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel m nage   trois, Buffy was reading the undercurrents and setting up a breakwater. At least her attire suggested well-paid, successful international assassin. I wondered if I had paid for her clothing as well. I'd given Chaz's wardrobe a serious upgrade courtesy of Pamela faking my signature.The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they all had different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable' attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in the same style as Hana.I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for what she assumed would be my support network, Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesława and Juanita, plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. That made me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, if not comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurant this exclusive.Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcano on the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged."Chaz, Pamela, explain," Buffy seethed."I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back, "Sweet-Cheeks.""They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation and assistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sincere manner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his 'inner- Cáel'."I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from four European nations," he nodded.Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns, I thought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to not have seen it coming."What?" Oili gasped."Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me."Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throw a, shrimp at Oili?""It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "Had Oili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect the item with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do all the time. It is pretty neat to watch.""Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in case another decapod was coming her way."You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison on it," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you. She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odette an 'atta girl' high five."Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "What have you been up to?""Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit, Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These fine women have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be my bodyguards," I made the introductions."They have volunteered to be, basically the 'Hounds of Prince O'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fiancée, Brooke, my close friend, Libra, a sweet & sincere childhood acquaintance, my Mother, Sibeal, my O'Shea aunts, Deidre & Imogen and Kalmarasērmi Buffy."Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy let a smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazon language = my Mountaintop."I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offered me drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces."Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured."Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my life and I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distracting bullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think you are yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted and soft-headed.""I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie, her only 'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel's safety. You should invoke whatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well, because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I will exercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay.""Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette."That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way."Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down."Until ten seconds ago, Yes. Now I want to hand you over to these two," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork."Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requested understanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. All we are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you.""To Us," Buffy snapped. "Cáel's vote doesn't count.""Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and your lack of trust is pissing me off.""Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out of sight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failed to take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to be honest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Color Sergeant wouldn't have let them come here, or near Odette."If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'd miss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch and gentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous cocking) I could have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was a goodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?"Marrying you is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooke teased me. Normally only dead people were made saints."A Servant of, probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table can agree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her joking well."Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered over the women of note (the women at the main table)."Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had been Catholic?"Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, I was given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social level between myself and my fianc . Food would be nice too."Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. A waiter slipped in, took my order, I decided to forgo an appetizer because I was late, then the conversation began."Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my family from Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. I was buying time to get a better read on the women around me."I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion."Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed."Wow, I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely could meet Hana's eyes."I am pregnant with your fianc 's child," Imogen cut to the chase. What she said was delivered on purpose. Imogen wasn't as socially maladjusted as Rachel. The fewer women in my life, the easier the O'Shea would have roping me in. Imogen's words were meant to hurt Hana and drive a wedge between us."You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid her anger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate her feeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute at concealing their surprise."She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of a blatant Imogen, or a pained Hana."No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile. It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. Whatever Imogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does have a child inside her, Havenstone verified it and will have the precise genetic make-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying)."If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who played upon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he was seven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as he witnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy because the people who were hunting me down, the two O'Shea before you and the nine who aren't here, would have used numerous means of torture to verify my death."(Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun)"My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. It was too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. He learned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this table knows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well.""Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick to my son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How could this not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman who has already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of his own maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?""Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you, or I. By all means, make a mockery of my son, your nephew, who has pledged to fight for your life when he should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of you yet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness.""There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of here intact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty," she threatened."Ten?" Brooke whispered."The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with, Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing his child take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her."No.""The Six?" Libra scanned the room."My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. They won't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jump straight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz, Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal.""We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with that proclamation."No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me."Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staff will only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and the rest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck so your best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal with things," Mom clarified."Brooke, Libra, this is a wacko chicks with guns moment," I put things in perspective."Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder."Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for cover and not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. Sorry Sibeal, but I don't know you that well yet.""I understand," Mom agreed.To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model) and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When the maytre dee tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entire extended family with a look alone. Been there, done that, and the maytre dee was nowhere close to being in my league.I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been here before I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her over Constanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would still show up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain.It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in an exposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level of response. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do' non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha.Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her team could keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons were paying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing her how to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances."Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known was Granddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand."Oh, I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If there was a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it."Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll.""That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he has always been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations of dead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans to destroy my Cáel.""I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have. He's a handful and reminds you of your Father, the mass-murdering rapist. And Imogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part of your circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I count a person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there is Valor, there is Hope and my fianc  has both in spades. Do we understand one another?""Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equates to being a threat," Deidre countered."Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me."Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hana has to win, or lose, on her own.""Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people, Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some petty bullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenance made a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous."That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are as dysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat one another as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?""You?" Deidre soothed me."No. Ferko Nyilas', my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taught me to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control over our lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-ass bitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I care for you.""I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all of you know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, I will always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold you responsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and it isn't over yet."If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on the mats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warrior culture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on the line. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without, weapons."We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting over the physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten."My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training. Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat techniques.""Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements, and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough', you begin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such as close-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefield medicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and 'training' expertise.""In my current team, the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania, all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five, each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. The leader had eleven years in.""Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specific mindset. What you need to do is think why you shouldn't kill someone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate, someone close to you might be killed, not just me.""Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions, you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxis take you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicating yourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet.""You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group, to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at my side. Go, take a rest, talk it over, search your souls. Call me if any of you want to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?""Do the other women around you do this, make those choices?" one of the Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw."No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never to return. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to, before they are even considered for the task.""Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. You would never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every way except spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offers resonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path you are taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are of accomplishing your goals.""I, I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses."At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel, Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500 elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead, or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded."One of the three was killed, a head shot, and the remainder left her body where she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had to protect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me is exceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes I was picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified."Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeve and Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel's guests to the lobby." A new pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods she interacted with.I have taken a few mystic liberties:Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress.As for the other new hires:Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter)Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother, Guardian of the Lion Throne)}They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answer to their current predicament, learning your romantic adventure was actually a gory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had been gathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps even understanding, of my actions.Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helena cajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left. Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-public setting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were not close enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them to be in New York on this night."Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance from our Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly, calling the meeting to order.I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, when the struggle began."Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointed out the three 'new hires' who were sticking around."Memasant (Amazon for to speak true)," I answered her. Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before the meeting began, I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects these three for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach it to others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in our native tongue.""I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, we are not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. We aren't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have to be kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Host needs.""We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige of our sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it, who cares? None of them have made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not all gathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?""Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out in a ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down."Put forth your complaint," I responded."You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take the time to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sisters to advance your own prestige.""Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies.""Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operations of our House.""Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side of me. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew I would have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host.""Buffy, are you challenging me?""No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me. She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thus her."Helena, are you challenging me?""No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangers you constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equally hostile tone."Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept any challenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to put your own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over one another for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored. Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1 Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter."Cool beans," I nodded.I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I had pre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandished two weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of my opponents muttered in confusion and resentment."Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilities never had then," Madori protested."Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls to pick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, Daphne Cotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise."Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madori glowered. "Cheating, utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equality and justice?""No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyes narrowed. "How about this, call the Amazon's contact with the Earth & Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue a House obligation?""You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head and actually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen a short spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled."Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not the Goddess of," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust. I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spear enough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my left axe on her shoulder, blade against her throat."Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a 22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance' bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such people weren't crybabies. "Next."Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situation was she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. I readied myself."I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" she put out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes."I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me' written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She put the point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close to my kidney."Yield.""Never.""Yield, or I will kill you."I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist and slammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with both of us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shield trapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.I stood up, blood oozing down my side."Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three more Amazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashed water down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness."Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and all of our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refused to yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when you clearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest of arms."Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous, outsider woman."I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne, don't you dare stand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for your disrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would show both of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People, learn. Learn and keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn, don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success until you take yourself to the cliffs."One of the two newes

Not the welcome we expectedWhen your tour guide is an assassin, what can go wrong?By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.You can do wrong while trying to do right.FlashbackAlal's 'milk of human kindness' had finally run dry as the Visigoths sacked his Roman villa. While looters ran off with his latest trappings of wealth, and deserted by his servants and his slaves, Grandpa decided that he was tired of fucking around with the Human Race. He felt they were simply too stupid, venal and weak to make any positive, lasting changes in the world.Alal decided that he was going to make the key choices for them. Fuck free will. Fuck letting the vermin that floated to the top of the cesspool destroy everything good in the world, as he had witnessed them doing time and time again. He had lost count of the monuments destroyed, histories of peoples forgotten and benefits to mankind burned away by barbarism and ignorance.By the fading light of August the 26th, 410 CE, Alal found himself sitting back in the pergola (a sort of mini-gazebo) in his rear gardens, drinking through several amphora of wine all the while having a deep philosophical debate with the several dozen very dead Goths decorating his environs.As three or four looters would enter the garden, he would kill them. And then three or four more would show up looking for the earlier group,, on and on. This reinforced Alal's belief that something drastic had to be done. He seriously considered going to the coast, getting a ship and five solid stone anchors. He'd sail out two days, maybe three, wrap himself in the anchors and jump overboard.The problem, as he saw it, was that given a few decades, the ropes would rot and he'd bob to the surface to see again that none of the fundamentals had changed. Further complicating his current thinking was that every time he came close to throwing in the cosmic towel, some more GOD DAMN GOTHS would come around, calling for their buddies, the dead ones. Somewhere around noon on August the 27th, Alal vowed that he was tired of this shit.Right on cue, around twenty Goths came strolling through the rear of his villa and soaked up the carnage out back. Fifty-two of their brethren were in various states of dismemberment and defilement (Alal had been, as usual, angry). They saw this dark-skinned Roman and rightly asked 'where's the army that killed these fellows?' He walked up to them in his wine-splashed toga."Are you the one in charge?" he asked the meanest looking Visigoth in passible Goth."I am," the leader responded. With lightning speed, he killed the man with his own sword. The Germans weren't sure what to make of that, it had happened so fast."You can join me," Alal indicated himself, "or you can join him," he indicated the corpse of their former leader. He had his new band of followers and the rest was Illuminati history.End FlashbackFor me, this meant more to me than living with the memories of a very bitter, driven and pitiless man. Alal was essentially the anti-me. It gave me chills to realize that all of Alal's gifts were bestowed on me with a purpose. I knew it was part of his greater plan. Normally, to end-run an evil genius, you just find him and kill him. Not only would Alal not stay dead, I now knew how well he could fight.I knew only four people who might be in his league, and I wasn't one of them. Of the four, Sakuniyas wasn't likely to help Pamela, Saint Marie and Elsa get the job done. That meant I had to rev up the deception engine to comfort my Aunts with hope, while dispelling the knowledge of how little they mattered to their sire. Almost as bad, I had to ignore what horribly people they were while extending that portion of my soul.It was with some relief that I hugged, kissed, and forcefully separated myself from the Aunts in Dublin. We were going on to Budapest's Ferenc Liszt International Airport. My next action was to make my request to Selena for a contract with the Ghost Tigers to defend Hana when she arrived in Russia. (Of the three 9 Clan Assassin-Babes, Selena was the least impressed with me.) She informed me that the Ghost Tigers didn't do bodyguard work. I still wanted her to relay my request, so she relented. After that, I passed out.We left Dublin around 9:30 am Friday morning and landed in Budapest at 1:45 pm., still Friday. As Rachel rousted me so I could grab a quick shower before touchdown, I was gifted with the misconceptions of my fellow travelers:To put it nicely, Riki thought I was somewhat revolting, Virginia was disturbed and Chaz had lowered his opinion of my moral character. It was the incest thing. Vincent being polite was a pleasant surprise, Delilah's camaraderie less so and Odette was peaches with my most recent sexcapades. She was far too good to me. The Amazons uniformly didn't give a crap."So, is there going to be any other bizarre behavior we should be prepared for?" Riki sat down next to me as I was drying my hair. I was back to my 'jeans, t-shirt and wind-breaker' style."Fine, " I said loudly. "It is really none of your business what I did with and to my mother's clones. Yes, they are all clones of my mother, who died when I was seven." A lie."They are also the genetic creations of my grandfather, also known by many as Cáel O'Shea. They are sterile, they are wickedly evil, and two weeks ago I didn't know they existed. I do have a real aunt in Maryland. She's my Father's sister and is not part of the menagerie. Oh yeah, my grandpa is currently a disembodied spirit, back from the Netherworld and looking for a body to take over, if he hasn't found one already," I added."He was born roughly five thousand years ago, was cursed by an ancient Sumerian Goddess such that he can never just die and stay dead. I have his memories running around my head, which, along with denying me a good night's sleep, allows me to speak an assortment of languages, use virtually every weapon built before 1970 and know that he is a vicious criminal mastermind the likes of which you've never imagined outside of fiction.How does that sound, Riki? Shall I get more bizarre? Trust me, I can," I regarded her evenly. She was speechless, but not out of awe. No, she was certain that I was completely unhinged."Everyone who believes Cáel, raise their hand," Odette demanded. Her hand went up. Odette and the Amazons agreeing was expected by the outsiders. Delilah and Virginia joining in was not."Captain Fairchild?" Colour Sgt. Chaz Tomorrow requested clarification."You've all seen those five O'Shea's that left the plane in Ireland. Barring some cosmetic changes, they were the exact same woman. You can either go with Sean Connery's Tak-ne creating a female clone army, or you can believe there is an otherworldly plastic surgeon altering a cadre of super-rich bitches to all look alike," Delilah, who was a captain of something, put out there."Who in the Hell is Tak-ne?" Riki mumbled."Duh," I poked the State Department lassie. "Connor MacLeod's Egyptian mentor in Highlander, the original movie and in the less than stellar sequel, Highlander: The Quickening"."You are mistaken. Connery was that Spanish guy," Riki poked me back."Actually, the relevant quote is: 'I am Juan Sánchez Villalobos Ramírez, Chief metallurgist to King Charles V of Spain. And I'm at your service'," Vincent regaled us with his movie trivia. "He later reveals that he was born Tak-ne in Egypt in the 9th century BCE. Also, his Spanish name makes no sense, he has one too many surnames.""Agent Loire, I am beginning to find intelligent men to be attractive," Charlotte said."Umm, thank you," Vincent responded warily."This might be a good point to get something clear," Chaz inquired. "Mr. Nyilas, whose side are you on? It appears to be rather complicated.""Okay, Chaz, call me Cáel. Calling me Mr. Nyilas makes me miss my dad. I can also be addressed as Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, Head of House Ishara of the First Twenty Houses of the Amazon Host. Or, you can call me what the Great Khan does, Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege. Finally, those who love me, or find me amusing, may call me Fehér mén."Selena's snort indicated she'd failed to hide her amusement at my presumptiveness, both titular and physically."Do you want to explain what's so amusing?" Riki looked over to the Black Hand assassin."Your job should be exceptionally easy now," Selena mocked me, "Prince of Hungry and Transylvania, or do you prefer 'White Stud'?""Laugh while you can, Monkey-Girl," I sneered. "The guy currently making a run at erasing seven hundred years of Asian history gave me that title. As for Fehér mén, that means 'White Stallion' and is symbolic of my ties to House Epona, not a phallic reference." Riki's look had gone from disgust, to anger (because she thought she was being played) and lastly, to shock."No," I interpreted her fear. "I am not here as some vanguard to unite the Magyar people to their cultural kinfolk in Central Asia. If you know your Central European history, you might recall that the Mongols devastated my homeland. For the next 450 years, the Turks were unwelcome visitors, conquerors and overlords. My princely status is a pat on the head for a job well done and nothing more.""What job did you do?" Riki prodded."I saved a man's life," I looked pained to admit. She didn't get it."It must have been a major VIPs life," Chaz suggested."You can say that," Pamela nodded. "End of discussion time too."At Ferenc Liszt International, we were diverted to a private hangar once more, courtesy of the Republic of Ireland's diplomatic umbrella. Three grey Ford Focuses and a white panel truck advertising a furniture repair store awaited us. Security issues were immediately obvious. They wanted to separate us (in the Fords) from most of our luggage (in the truck).The five guy welcoming party hid under the cloak of 'don't speak any language you claim to speak' and Selena was of zip help. So, I spoke to them in Hungarian. They glanced my way, but didn't respond. Serbian? Nope. Romanian? Nope."Bows and doves," I commanded.That translated rather logically as 'guns/bows' and 'phones/doves'. Out came our pistols. The only Black Hand to react fast enough was Selena and Pamela had her covered. The Amazons were aiming at the locals while Delilah and Chaz had their weapons out and scanning. Vincent and Virginia hadn't been fast enough, this time. They also didn't have guns pointed at them.The lead BH flunky began talking calmly in German, heavily Slavic accented German."What do you think you are doing?" he inquired of me, in German."Disarming you, ya Moron," I grumbled. Then added in Hittite; "Go", and in my Amazons went to very roughly search, disarm and de-phone our not so friendly friends."Alright, gather up your luggage," I called out to my group. "We are walking to town." That wasn't truly accurate. There was a metro associated with the airport, a kilometer away max. Our guides didn't speak English so they were rather surprised when the bags came out of the truck and were distributed to their owners. Riki Martin and Odette were in some trouble.Girls and 'only packing the necessities', Well, we had some diplomatic lumber to toss at the security services, Vincent had web-searched our location and the route we needed to take to the metro, and Delilah had purchased week-long public transport passes for the group. Only when we started marching out of the hangar did the BH comprehend the totality of their error.The five guys in the hangar were chattering away, in Hungarian, and Selena was peeved."You are upsetting my superiors by blatantly disrespecting their courtesy," she reminded me. "They have guaranteed your safety.""Less than a day has passed since the shootout in London, Selena," I countered."This is the Black Hand's backyard," Selena persisted, "not London.""So, you are only going to help us if we do stupid shit we wouldn't do, even on our own home ground, is that it?" I chuckled. "Sweet," then, to my people, "I guess we are on our own."The airport security guards didn't know what to make of our group of over-worked Sherpa, but the US State department and the RoI (Republic of Ireland) vouched for us, so they let us pass.We hadn't taken the cars and the truck because that would have been theft. The confiscated guns and phones had been disassembled and tossed into a large iron drum of used aviation lubricant. Odette began shopping around for hotel reservations (I was carrying most of her gear). She was the logical choice because she sounded the most human of the bunch.Selena called her people back, explained the fuck up and engaged in a mutual ass-chewing that spilled over a half-dozen languages and ended up with Dick-head, the local BH chieftain providing us with quarters that would turn a blind eye to our arsenal. With that address in mind, we made for the bowels of modern Budapest.Dutifully, Riki contacted the US Embassy to Hungary's CIA mission head and Chargé D' Affaires, a.i., updating them on our arrival and movements. At the last moment, I had Riki relay the wrong address, on a paranoid hunch. I was right to be paranoid except I was looking in the wrong direction.We had just disembarked at the Kőbánya-Kispest M3 station when we walked into the rolling ambush. A 'rolling ambush' is like a meeting engagement, the difference being that one side (ours) is on the move, not knowing it is being hunted while the other side (our attackers) was rushing to catch up with us, not knowing where along the path they would find us.As we preparing to transition from the station to the attached terminal, looking for the bus line that would connect us to the BH safe house in the Kőbánya (X) District, our attackers were dismounting their vehicles from across the street as well as to our left and right. They were dressed like cops. Had they been armed like cops,"Oh look," I snickered to Pamela, "I see a whole bunch of heavily armed people coming our way.""Good for you," Pamela muttered. "Your eyes are still working.""Do you think they are here to raise me up on their shields and proclaim me 'Prince'?" I joked."I think they are here to kill us," Pamela grinned."I prefer to think positively," I grinned back."I am positive they are here to kill us," Pamela laughed. It had to be our relaxed demeanor that confused them.Had we been the droids they were looking for, we wouldn't have been chatting in the open with our bags in our hands. That would have made us crazy, and they would have been right. We were crazy alright and there was a method to our madness. It was mid-afternoon, yet there were plenty of average Hungarians wandering about.Sure, they saw the 'special cops' closing in. They didn't see the upcoming shoot-out because that was plain nuts. A gun battle in a modern metropolis in broad daylight? London yesterday was an aberration, not the new normal. Our impromptu plan was to let the killers get as close as possible to limit the collateral damage.This wasn't classic Amazon training. It was a concession to allies who did care about civilians killed in the cross-fire. The oncoming hit squad was finally putting faces to targets when Odette broke the calm before the storm. All she did was squeak when Vincent pushed her behind a kiosk. Riki took Virginia shifting her to cover in silence.Delilah took off at a dead-run to the south-east. They were raising their shotguns and assault rifles. We were drawing our pistols. Normally this would have been an unequal match, except that in the time period where, in their eyes, we had gone from bystanders to targets, they'd also covered a good deal of ground, to the point that they were out in the open while my fighting band was in close proximity to all kinds of cover.It started out as eighteen to twelve. Pamela, Chaz and Selena quickly cut down those odd by five. Me? I didn't try to shoot and run at the same time, so I made it to cover and was stuck there by our opponents use of fully-automatic fire.My lack of martial prowess could be forgiven by the reality I was the one they were trying to off. My greatest contribution to this skirmish was tossing my SPAS-12 to Chaz so he could use something more than his standard military issue Glock-17. I had barely gotten Chaz's appreciative nod when two grenades went off in close proximity to me.At first, I heard and felt nothing. My eyes were having trouble focusing. When my limbs began to orient themselves, I had to fight down the instinct to move. I was lying down, which was far safer than staggering around in the middle of this hail of lead. The twin grenades turned out to be their second and very fatal mistake on this mission.The first had been their delay in identifying my group. The second, using the stun grenades, did put me, Pamela and Selena out of commission temporarily. But their mistake was having misplaced my six Amazons in this mess they had created. They did have thirteen shooters versus Chaz, Virginia and Vincent. They rushed our position using the classic advance while firing rote.Two meters from me, the six Amazons revealed themselves with five P-90's and one big-ass bow. Four escaped the kill zone only to find themselves flanked by Delilah. Her .480, combined with their confusion, finished off the survivors. That wasn't the end of it. We still had to effect our get-away.I was still getting my head on straight as the ladies decided to hotwire some of the deceased men's rides and get us the heck out of Dodge. Recovery brought with it the knowledge that Virginia and Chaz had been shot. Pamela, Selena and me, we had some scrapes and bruises. Everyone else checked out. Mona let us know that she could handle the wounded. They wouldn't be doing jumping jacks for a week or two, but a hospital was not required. On the downside, no one believed that eighteen killers dressed as cops randomly rolled up on our transit point by accident. The only people who knew about our change in travel plans had been the Black Hand. We'd lied to the US.We broke into an abandoned factory to stash the vehicles and make our next plan. Selena was coldly furious. Not only did she come to the same conclusion we had, the Black Hand had set us up to be murdered, we weren't letting her call in. Wiesława and Charlotte kept their guns pointed at her, so low was our level of trust.Chaz was pretty much of the opinion that Selena should be coerced to provide us with the names and locations of the Black Hand involved so that we could do our own 'fact finding tour'. Oddly, none of the Americans asked to be pulled out. Vincent and Riki wanted to let the US Embassy know what had happened, yet were willing to wait until we were secure somewhere first.Rachel was on board with Chaz's idea, with the addendum that they kill every Black Hand they could get their hands on before fleeing the city. They had tried to kill ME after all. I was touched. It was Pamela who put things in perspective.1) The attackers were not Black Hand, they were mercenaries and that pointed a bloody finger at the Condottieri.2) Selena wasn't a fanatic and her life had been in as much danger as anyone else's. She wasn't part of our ambush. Her buddies had tossed her under the bus.3) It would have been far easier to catch us in that convoy they'd tried to stick us with. Caught in pre-planned crossfires and without our heavier weapons, we would have all died.4) Having failed to deliver us to the pre-planned ambush site, the Condottieri had to rush to our metro stop because, the safe house they had prepared for us wouldn't have worked. We had the numbers to allow us take total charge of our security once we were in place. No, gauging our numbers, this traitor had sent the mercs into a straight-up fight they'd just lost.

Actrice Daphne Agten (recordhoudster van deelnames aan De slimste mens) vertelt in onze Bar Miroir hoe ze kracht haalt uit de female rage in het werk Inflammatory Essays van kunstenares Jenny Holzer, waarom de film Synecdoche, New York van Charlie Kaufman haar iedere keer opnieuw doet huilen, en hoe het komt dat in het theaterstuk Penthesilea van het Internationaal Theater Amsterdam kussen met bijten wordt verward. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Actrice Daphne Agten (recordhoudster van deelnames aan De slimste mens) vertelt in onze Bar Miroir hoe ze kracht haalt uit de female rage in het werk Inflammatory Essays van kunstenares Jenny Holzer, waarom de film Synecdoche, New York van Charlie Kaufman haar iedere keer opnieuw doet huilen, en hoe het komt dat in het theaterstuk Penthesilea van het Internationaal Theater Amsterdam kussen met bijten wordt verward. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Liv reads Book 3 of the Fall of Troy, translated by AS Way. After the death of Penthesilea, Memnon, and the Greek Antilochus, Apollo takes his anger out on Achilles. Help keep LTAMB going by subscribing to Liv's Patreon for bonus content! This is not a standard narrative story episode, it's a reading of an ancient source, audiobook style. For regular episodes look for any that don't have "Liv Reads..." in the title! For a list of Roman/Latin names and who they were in the Greek, visit: mythsbaby.com/names Attributions and licensing information for music used in the podcast can be found here: mythsbaby.com/sources-attributions.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Liv reads Book 3 of the Fall of Troy, translated by AS Way. After the death of Penthesilea, Memnon, and the Greek Antilochus, Apollo takes his anger out on Achilles. Help keep LTAMB going by subscribing to Liv's Patreon for bonus content! This is not a standard narrative story episode, it's a reading of an ancient source, audiobook style. For regular episodes look for any that don't have "Liv Reads..." in the title! For a list of Roman/Latin names and who they were in the Greek, visit: mythsbaby.com/names Attributions and licensing information for music used in the podcast can be found here: mythsbaby.com/sources-attributions.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Die Debatte mit Natascha Freundel, Helene Bukowski und Nino Haratischwili --- "Man muss nicht immer kämpfen, aber widerständig bleiben." (Helene Bukowski) --- Eine Aufzeichnung vom 8. März 2024 im Rangfoyer des Deutschen Theaters Berlin, in Kooperation mit DT Kontext. --- Der Krieg ist zurück in Europa. Eine Zeitenwende, die einen „Mentalitätswechsel“ verlangt: Wir müssten „kriegstüchtig werden“, „wehrhaft sein“, so Verteidigungsminister Boris Pistorius. – Auch oder gerade wir Frauen? --- Die Autorinnen Nino Haratischwili und Helene Bukowski schlagen im Gespräch mit Natascha Freundel einen weiten Bogen von der Antike zur Gegenwart. Haratischwili zeigt am Deutschen Theater Berlin ihre neue Adaption des Penthesilia-Mythos: kein Kommentar zu Russlands Krieg gegen die Ukraine, sondern eine Reflektion über die Zwänge des Kriegs und das Glück der Liebe. Für Haratischwili, die in Georgien geboren und aufgewachsen ist, hat der Krieg nicht erst vor zwei Jahren begonnen. Sie kennt ihn seit ihrer Kindheit und sie warnt vor einer Romantisierung der Amazonen: Jede Ideologie, auch ein radikaler Feminismus, führe zu Gewalt und Leid. --- Helene Bukowski hat für ihren Roman „Die Kriegerin“ über Geschlechterrollen und Körperbilder in der Bundeswehr recherchiert. Soldatinnen fehle oft die Sprache für ihre Wunden und ihre Sehnsucht nach Unverletzbarkeit, erzählt sie. Komplizinnenschaft und Kickboxen sind für Bukowski zwei Wege, widerständig zu bleiben. In einer Welt, in der Gewalt gegen Frauen, gegen weibliche Sexualität, an der Tagesordnung ist. Nicht nur, aber besonders im Krieg. --- Helene Bukowski , geboren 1993 in Berlin, leitet neben dem Schreiben auch Seminare und Workshops für Kreatives Schreiben. 2019 erschien ihr Debütroman „Milchzähne“, 2022 folgte der Roman „Die Kriegerin“ (beide Blumenbar/Aufbau Verlag). „Milchzähne“ wurde in der Regie von Sophia Bösch, u.a. mit Susanne Wolff und Ulrich Matthes verfilmt und kommt 2024 in die Kinos. --- Nino Haratischwili , geboren 1983 in Tbilissi/Georgien, ist Romanautorin, Dramatikerin und Regisseurin. Ihr großes Familienepos „Das achte Leben (Für Brilka)“ von 2014 , in 25 Sprachen übersetzt, avancierte zum Weltbestseller. In „Penthesilea. Ein Requiem“ zeigt sie eine Neudeutung des antiken Mythos mit Schauspielerinnen aus Georgien und dem DT-Ensemble in einer zweisprachigen Inszenierung. --- Mehr Infos und eine Bildergalerie s. www.rbbkultur.de/derzweitegedanke. --- Schreiben Sie uns gern an derzweitegedanke@rbbkultur.de.

Welcome to Penthesilea On Air, the podcast for classical musicians seeking to enhance their artistry, performance, and well-being. I'm Karin Bonelli, and I'm here to share the essence of our journey together through Penthesilea Academy, and this podcast. My vision is to create a space for passionate musicians who are eager to grow beyond the conventional boundaries of classical music education. It's about more than just technique; it's about finding your unique voice and place in the challenging world of music. Let's make extraordinary music together. Would you like to hear more? Website: penthesilea.academy Instagram: @karintbonelli @penthesilea.academy produced by Eli Cardich and podcastly

Mumot, Andréwww.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Fazit

Liv reads Quintus Smytnaeus' the Fall of Troy, translated by AS Way. The epic picks up where the Iliad left off, Hector is dead and the Trojans now have help from the Amazons and their queen, Penthesilea. Help keep LTAMB going by subscribing to Liv's Patreon for bonus content! This is not a standard narrative story episode, it's a reading of an ancient source, audiobook style. For regular episodes look for any that don't have "Liv Reads..." in the title! For a list of Roman/Latin names and who they were in the Greek, visit: mythsbaby.com/names Attributions and licensing information for music used in the podcast can be found here: mythsbaby.com/sources-attributions.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Time for a shout-out to two great Amazon warriors, Penthesilea and Hippolyta. Join old-school hosts, Sean Marlon Newcombe and Dawn "Sam" Alden, as they welcome one of our new hosts, Lauren Torres, to discuss these fabulous warrior women.   It's good to be back!

Annemieke Bosman in gesprek met actrice Maria Kraakman. Maria Kraakman speelt bij ITA de monoloog 'Prima Facie', het prijswinnende toneelstuk van auteur Suzie Miller in een regie van Eline Arbo.. De snoeiharde monoloog maakte eerder furore op West End en Broadway en is nu voor het eerst in het Nederlands te zien. Tessa is een slimme en meedogenloze strafrechtadvocaat die gespecialiseerd is in zedendelicten. Ze heeft zich los weten te maken van haar arbeidersmilieu en wordt nu omgeven door oud geld en de geprivilegieerde elite. Rechtspraak is voor haar een sport. Ze vindt dat ze in vergelijking tot haar mannelijke collega's op een nette manier de slachtoffers van seksueel misbruik onderuithaalt. Zo houdt ze verdachten uit de gevangenis door precies genoeg twijfel te zaaien en altijd ‘de juridische waarheid' boven tafel te krijgen. Totdat de rollen onherroepelijk omdraaien: een onverwachte gebeurtenis confronteert haar met de gespannen verhouding tussen de patriarchale macht van de wet, de bewijslast en de moraal. Maria Kraakman is nauw betrokken geweest bij de vertaling van Prima Facie, om de vertaling op haar stem en spel af te stemmen. Kraakman was eerder bij ITA te zien in o.a. Het jaar van de kreeft (nominatie Theo d'Or), Ibsen huis, De dingen die voorbijgaan, Romeinse tragedies, Kleine zielen, De stille kracht, Lehman Trilogy en Penthesilea.  Kraakman studeerde in 1998 af aan de Arnhemse Toneelschool. Kraakman speelde bij Art & Pro,  het Nationale Toneel en Toneelgroep Oostpool. In 2010 won Maria Kraakman de Theo d'Or voor haar titelrol in Orlando.

Penthesilea was breathtaking. “Aphrodite, the noble bride of the potent War- god, made her beautiful indeed in death, so that the son of Peleus (Achilles), could be pierced by the arrow of chastising love," writes the 4th century AD Greek poet Quintus Smyrnaeus in his poem Posthomerica ("Things After Homer"). In addition to her beauty, Penthesilea was also born into a family of queens. She was the daughter of Ares, the god of war, and Otrera, Queen of the legendary Amazons. Apart from Penthesilea, Ares and Otrera had three other daughters: Hippolyta, Antiope, and Melanippe. Hippolyta went on to become one of the most famous of the Amazon queens, while her other sisters Antiope and Melanippe ruled alongside her over their country's three major cities. Read on the blog. Read more: Aphrodite Battle of the Tragic Heroes: Legends of India's Karna, Greek's Achilles and Ireland's Ferdiad Ares and Athena An Unhappy Divine Marriage

To celebrate Doctor Who's fiftieth and fifty-ninth anniversaries, Brendan, Nathan, Richard and Todd are reunited at last for the first of two panels discussing The Day of the Doctor. We squealed, we laughed, we wept, we injured Brendan, and we spent quite a bit of time fangirling about Ingrid Oliver. Happy birthday, everyone! Notes and links First off, a special anniversary mention of El Sandifer, whose essay on The Day of the Doctor discusses its role on healing the breach between the Classic and New Series of Doctor Who. Perhaps inevitably, John Hurt reprises his role as the War Doctor for Big Finish, recording four box sets of three stories each before his death in 2017. Two Doctor Who novelisations alluded to this week: firstly, again, Steven Moffat's novelisation of The Day of the Doctor (2018), and Russell T Davies's novelistaion of Rose (also 2018), which depicts the Last Great Time War in weird and unfilmable ways. As a man dedicated to recycling, Moffat has used the resolution of The Day of the Doctor in a Children in Need special in 2007 called Time Crash. We discussed it (of course) in Episode 178, Remember Who We Were. Nathan's vague memory of a French ambassador visiting a 65-year-old Queen Elizabeth I and remarking on the poor state of her teeth is largely correct. You can read about this meeting here. This is Ingrid Oliver's first appearance on the show as Dr Petronella Osgood, and so we spend a lot of time talking about how great she is. Richard mentions her role as Penthesilea in ElvenQuest, a Radio 4 comedy series starring Stephen Mangan, as well as her roles in another Radio 4 comedy series, The Penny Dreadfuls Present…. Brendan mentions her appearance as Osgood in The Lonely Assassins, a videogame featuring the Weeping Angels, first released in 2021 and available on just about every platform imaginable. And, for our viewers who are in the UK or who know how to operate a VPN, you can see a brief excerpt from the episode of Watson & Oliver where Ingrid learns that she's been shortlisted to play the next James Bond. Follow us Nathan is on Twitter as @nathanbottomley, Brendan is @brandybongos, Richard is @RichardLStone and Todd is @toddbeilby. The Flight Through Entirety theme was arranged by Cameron Lam. You can follow the podcast on Twitter at @FTEpodcast. We're also on Facebook, and you can check out our website at flightthroughentirety.com. Please consider rating or reviewing us on Apple Podcasts, or we'll spend the next fifty years making fun of your dreadfully unconvincing London accent. And more You can find Jodie into Terror, our flashcast on the Whittaker Era of Doctor Who, at jodieintoterror.com, at @JodieIntoTerror on Twitter, on Apple Podcasts, and wherever podcasts can be found. We'll be back with a new flashcast on the second Russell T Davies era in November 2023. Our James Bond commentary podcast is called Bondfinger, and you can find that at bondfinger.com, at @bondfingercast on Twitter, on Apple Podcasts, and everywhere else as well. In our most recent episode, we watched in awe as Roger Moore and Tony Curtis solved the mystery of The Long Goodbye. We can also be heard on the Blakes 7 podcast Maximum Power, which a few weeks ago started its coverage of Series B of the show. This week's episode: Chris Boucher's Weapon, starring The Talons of Weng-Chiang's John Bennett in a largely non-racist role. And finally, there's our Star Trek commentary podcast, Untitled Star Trek Project, featuring Nathan and friend-of-the-podcast Joe Ford. We've been having a short break to give us the chance to rest on our laurels after our first year of podcasting. Today, we're recommending our coverage of Star Trek: Discovery.

"I never start," says Pascal Dusapin of his composing process, "and I never finish—I continue." The brilliant composer—one of the most acclaimed and widely performed of our day—talks with Gramophone's James Jolly about the discipline of great artists, the place of art and music in a war-torn world, his love of opera and the enduring relevance of myths on the opera stage, why French is less musical than English or German, his private music room at home, the beauty of the string quartet as a form, his seven-movement symphony that took twenty years to write (and still may not be finished), and much more… Presented with the generous support of Madame Aline Foriel-Destezet.

Tanz mit Luca Hänni für die Freundschaft und gegen Mobbing und freu dich mit den Schwiizergoofen! Ladina, Asia und Penthesilea erzählen, wie sie in jungen Jahren schon den Platz 1 der Schweizer Album-Charts besetzen.

Lexman interviews Travis Stevens about his christening and Travis tells us all about his Penthesilea censors.

Hippolyte and her golden belt. Penthesilea and the fall of Troy. The Daughters of Ares. Atalanta and the golden apples. They're everywhere in Greek mythology: fierce, deadly women warriors. But in a society as male-dominated as ancient Greece, what did this obsession with strong warrior women mean? We take a look at some of the more well-known Amazon myths of ancient Greece--and the mystery of their meaning in context. Get ad-free episodes here: https://www.patreon.com/ancienthistoryfangirl Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Trojan War is nearing its end, as new champions arrive at Troy to help fight the besieging Greeks: the Amazon queen Penthesilea and her twelve elite guardians. Driven by her quest for glory and a deep sorrow from her past, Penthesilea enters battle to save Troy, and takes on the deadliest of the Greek champions, the godlike warrior Achilles. A story from Greek mythology, based on Quintus of Smyrna's Posthomerica, Book 1 (3rd century AD), featuring: Penthesilea, Priam, Achilles, Ajax, Diomedes, Thersites --- CREDITS: Music by Giuseppe Rizzo, Suite Tracks Music, and William Van De Crommert (www.storyblocks.com) Episode Thumbnail Image: Scene of Amazons fighting Greeks, with Achilles and Penthesilea in the center, from a marble sarcophagus (Roman Empire, 3rd century AD) WDS Logo Image: Kylix with Apollo playing the lyre and pouring a libation (c. 470 BC, Delphi Archeological Museum) --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

In today's episode, we discuss several of the women involved in the Trojan War from Greek mythology. We talk about Iphigenia, Chryseis, Briseis, Penthesilea, Polyxena, Hecuba, and Andromache. This episode has a TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of violence against women and children, including sexual assault. For more information about today's episode, go to mytholadies.com. To donate and hear bonus content, please go to ko-fi.com/mytholadies. Our cover art is by Helena Cailleaux. You can find her and more of her work on Instagram @helena.cailleaux.illustratrice. Our theme song was composed and performed by Icarus Tyree. To hear more of their music, check out icarust.bandcamp.com.

Paris and Penthesilea move into a Ilione's farm. Penthesilea looks for a way to get back at William and Paris looks for a way just to get Thalia.

After being kidnapped by Penthesilea, Paris Is taken to a hunting camp that is the home of the Denver City Amazons and Helen finds a new ally in Cassandra.

Is there such a thing as a magic number? Many will say it is "three." After all, it was Isaiah who cried "kadosh, kadosh, kadosh!" But three isn't always the magic number. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many Beatles songs which start out with 1-2-3-4! Seven is the magic number for the length of the week, though we can't really explain why. Don't forget about three, though: in his play Penthesilea, Kleist showed how in the dualistic "battle of the sexes" a third way can transcend masculine and feminine.

It's a swing-and-a-miss for Paris,  as Penthesilea and Naomi discussed subtleties of a lesbian relationship.

Troy StoryStar of BBC Radio 4, Natalie Haynes brings her unique combination of ancient history and stand-up comedy to the story of the Trojan War. The women whose lives the war affected largely remained in the shadows, from the Amazon warrior, Penthesilea, to the priestess who foresaw the war, Cassandra. These women will be returned to their rightful place: the centre of the story. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Annemieke Bosman spreekt auteur en literatuurcriticus Margot Dijkgraaf over haar boek ‘In de voetsporen van mijn grootvader'. ‘In de voetsporen van mijn grootvader' van Margot Dijkgraaf is een innemende kleine familiegeschiedenis en een ode aan de mythe van de Amazones. Op een dag opent Margot Dijkgraaf thuis een koffertje dat ze decennialang onder haar moeders bed heeft zien liggen. Ze vindt er een met de hand geschreven artikel in van haar grootvader, over Penthesilea, heldin in de gelijknamige tragedie van de Duitse schrijver Heinrich von Kleist. Ruim een eeuw voordat Dijkgraaf een boek publiceerde over rebelse vrouwen in de letteren, blijkt haar grootvader over een rebelse literaire heldin te hebben geschreven. Ze wordt nieuwsgierig. Wie was die grootvader die ze nooit heeft gekend, zoon uit een geslacht van Zeeuwse boomkwekers en zaadhandelaren, die weigerde zijn plek in het familiebedrijf in te nemen, maar zijn eigen weg ging en zijn passie voor literatuur volgde? Hoe was het om te trouwen tijdens de Eerste Wereldoorlog? Ze volgt zijn weg, van Goes en Domburg, naar Kampen, Brielle en Hilversum. En passant maakt ze kennis met de wereld van P.C. Boutens, de schilders rond Jan Toorop, het werk van Von Kleist en de psycholoog Gerard Heymans.

We're on hiatus until September 2. Until then, please enjoy some of our favorite episodes from the back catalog. Hippolyte and her golden belt. Penthesilea and the fall of Troy. The Daughters of Ares. Atalanta and the golden apples. They're everywhere in Greek mythology: fierce, deadly women warriors. But in a society as male-dominated as ancient Greece, what did this obsession with strong warrior women mean? We take a look at some of the more well-known Amazon myths of ancient Greece--and the mystery of their meaning in context. Get ad-free episodes here: https://www.patreon.com/ancienthistoryfangirl Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Paris learns who owns the bar, why Cynthia and Penthesilea don't like each other, what the sheriff's problem is and exactly and how gullible Ilione's husband can be. 

Paris, Penthesilea, Prostitutes and Prize Fights, Why does everything always start with a “P”?

December 1882 and a sixteen-year-old Paris is stuck in the city of Denver. She's on her own and she has no money left. When she meets Penthesilea and the Legend Of the Whiskey Girl is born.

Karin Bonelli gehört zu den wenigen Philharmonikerinnen. Sie gründete die "Penthesilea Academy" und erklärt wie das Leben verläuft zwischen positiver Probespielerfahrung und einem breit gefächerten Orchesterrepertoire.

Karin Bonelli gehört zu den wenigen Philharmonikerinnen. Sie gründete die "Penthesilea Academy" und erklärt wie das Leben verläuft zwischen positiver Probespielerfahrung und einem breit gefächerten Orchesterrepertoire.

Penthesilea was one of the most badass Amazons... Until she encountered Achilles. This story is not kind to he of the weak ankle.CW/TW: far too many Greek myths involve assault. Given it's fiction, and typically involves gods and/or monsters, I'm not as deferential as I would be were I referencing the real thing.Sources: Amazons by Adrienne Mayor; Quintus Smyrnaeus' The Fall of Troy translated by A.S. Way; Theoi.com.Attributions and licensing information for music used in the podcast can be found here: mythsbaby.com/sources-attributions. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

The incredible women of the Amazons exist in myth and history, even if their myths tend to revolve around certain Greek heroes. Otrera, Hippolyta, Antiope, Penthesilea... CW/TW: far too many Greek myths involve assault. Given it's fiction, and typically involves gods and/or monsters, I'm not as deferential as I would be were I referencing the real thing.Sources: The Amazons by Adrienne Mayor; Homer's Iliad, translated by Caroline Alexander, another translated by Richard Lattimore; Theoi.com entries on Otrera, Penthesilea, and the Amazonian nymph Harmonia.Attributions and licensing information for music used in the podcast can be found here: mythsbaby.com/sources-attributions. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Die letzte Folge vor den großen Ferien! Juli erzählt von ihren Drehtagen im Taunus und welchen Tieren sie auf dem Feldberg begegnet ist, außerdem nennt sie alle Zuhörer*innen in dieser Folge konsequent Zuschauer*innen - Es ist also dringend Urlaub nötig! Wir machen drei Wochen Pause und sind am 10. August wieder am Start.  Zu Gast ist in dieser Woche Marie Förster, Schauspielerin aus Köln! Marie erzählt von einem Szenenstudium während ihrer Zeit an der Schauspielschule, in dem sie die herausfordernde Rolle der Penthesilea spielte und an der Zusammenarbeit mit der Dozentin scheiterte. Wir sprechen über Machtstrukturen in der Theaterwelt und dass große künstlerische Leistungen nicht aus großem Leid kommen müssen. Aktuell sucht sie - inspiriert durch ein Schauspiel-Coaching - den Kontakt zu Menschen in ihrem Leben, mit denen Beziehungen gescheitert sind.  Fazit: Verantwortung für sich selbst zu übernehmen befreit!  Marie findet ihr hier: https://www.schauspielervideos.de/fullprofile/schauspielerin-marie-foerster.html https://www.instagram.com/_marie_foerster_/ Marie spendet übrigens regelmäßig Bäume - das könnt ihr auch! https://www.plant-my-tree.de/ ______________________________ Unsere E-Mail Adresse: hartaberfail@gmail.com Unser instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hartaberfail.podcast/ Foto: Saskia Allers Illustration: Timo Zett Musik: Jonathan Wolters --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/hartaberfail/message

Heute u.a. Scala Sommerlektüren (1/5): "Der unsichtbare Garten" von Karine Lambert; Berufswunsch Künstler in Zeiten von Corona; Die 20er Jahre - Jahrzehnt des Tons; Rituelle Kreisgraben-Anlage in Swisttal; Service Bühne: "GAIA-Projekt. Eine Cyborg-Oper" im Netz und "Erinnerst Du Dich, Penthesilea?" in Bochum; Moderation: Rebecca Link.

Natalie Haynes tells of Penthesilea, Amazon warrior queen, in charge of ‘a bunch of golden-shielded, silver-axed, man-loving, boy-killing women,' with a natty line in ankle boots, and even trousers, a scandalous item of clothing at the time. These fighting women were respected as exceptional warriors and Penthesilea was given a hero's burial when she died in battle. Unusually for women in antiquity, many Amazon's names are recorded (on vases) and they are excellent: 'She Who Lets the Dogs Out'; 'She Who Is Enthusiastic at Sex'; 'She Who Fights like a Man'. Although Amazons are regarded as mythological figures, there is strong evidence for the existence of nomadic fighting women from burial grounds in the Russian steppes. In this locked down, more intimate version of her show, Natalie offers escape to a different realm: the mythological. As fresh and funny as ever, Natalie brings us new insights into the original girl gang, as well as gossipy erudition from a couple of thousand years of culture, with the help of Professor Edith Hall.

Here’s one of our listeners’ most requested episodes of 2019: In the wake of Queen Hippolyta’s death and Antiope’s abduction by Theseus, the Amazon Queens’ youngest sister, Penthesilea, was left to rule the nation of warrior women. Consumed with rage at the injustices done to her sisters, Penthesilea grew into a bitter leader.

This episode is brought to you by Mythology, a Parcast Original. For more episodes like this one, subscribe to Mythology on Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. In the wake of Queen Hippolyta’s death and Antiope’s abduction by Theseus, the Amazon Queens’ youngest sister, Penthesilea, was left to rule the nation of warrior women. Consumed with rage at the injustices done to her sisters, Penthesilea grew into a bitter leader and planned to launch an attack on Theseus’ Athens.

Xena ends the Trojan War in a day, and Gabby meets an old flame! MEANWHILE Justine & Hayley research Helen of Troy, Paris, Menelaus, Deiphobos, Polyxena, Penthesilea, and give a VERY short breakdown of the Trojan War Follow us!IG @IATOAG_TheXenaPodcastFB @ IATOAGTheXenaPodcastLike what we're doing? Rate, subscribe, and review on your preferred podcast platform!For exclusive content check out our Patreon: www.patreon.com/IATOAGTheXenaPodcast

In this lecture, we discuss the events which take place between Homer's "Iliad" and "Odyssey". Specifically, we consider (a) the events of the lost epic "Aethiopis", and we see the fall of Penthesilea, Memnon, Antilochos, and Achilleus; next (b) we observe the cunning of Odysseus in the "contest of the arms of Achilleus" and his part in the making of the Trojan horse; (c) we conclude the day by witnessing "The Sack of Ilium" and the deaths and abductions of many Trojans we came to know during Homer's "Iliad". --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/alexander-schmid9/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/alexander-schmid9/support

In the wake of Queen Hippolyta’s death and Antiope’s abduction by Theseus, the Amazon Queens’ youngest sister, Penthesilea, was left to rule the nation of warrior women. Consumed with rage at the injustices done to her sisters, Penthesilea grew into a bitter leader and planned to launch an attack on Theseus’ Athens. Parcasters - This week on The Dark Side Of, we move on from Hollywood and start our exploration of the music industry. Our first episode details the myth of the 27 Club, you won't want to miss it! Subscribe to The Dark Side Of on Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

What does it take to be a hero? Nowadays rescuing others, not being a coward, or just standing up for you principles seems to be the key. In the Trojan war you could spend years in a tent sulking while everyone else fights simply because you were denied a sex slave, and STILL be considered a Hero. Natalie Haynes has released a novel about the silenced women of the Trojan War, and chats to Iszi about a not-so-famous Amazon warrior and debunks some of the myths surrounding her. Featuring: Penthesia Natalie Haynes is a writer, broadcaster, comedian and HERO. A Thousand Ships is available now! Iszi Lawrence is a presenter of BBC's Making History and The British Museum Membercast.  and on twitter:

Hippolyte and her golden belt. Penthesilea and the fall of Troy. The Daughters of Ares. Atalanta and the golden apples. They're everywhere in Greek mythology: fierce, deadly women warriors. But in a society as male-dominated as ancient Greece, what did this obsession with strong warrior women mean? We take a look at some of the more well-known Amazon myths of ancient Greece--and the mystery of their meaning in context. http://www.ancienthistoryfangirl.com/

Kate Compton joins Sarah and Paul in wrapping up the war that will never end. It's got beloved favorites like Memnon, Penthesilea, and a big wooden horse the Trojans should've seen coming. Visit www.dragonwagonshop.com for awesome Mythunderstood shirts and mugs! Mythunderstood is a part of the Dragon Wagon Radio independent podcast network. Learn more at www.dragonwagonradio.com  

En roman full av erotik, tortyr och andra oanständigheter – det är Lars Eric Krogius livsverk Penthesilea. Boken, som handlar om en ung aristokratisk mans erotiska äventyr bland sexuellt hungriga, ofta våldsamma kvinnor i det gamla Böhmen är temat för veckans avsnitt av Förlagets podd. Häng med om du inte är rädd för erotisk litteratur där höftbenen knaxar, livmodern vänder sig ut och in av vällust och fiolsträngar får helt nya användningsområden i sängkammaren. Gäster är Viktor Granö och Otto Ekman.

A weekly recap of some pointers from Troy, Fall of a City. In the sixth epsiode I consider whether we can date Patroclus' death, why Penthesilea would have terrified Hitler had she been on the moon and the big showdown between Achilles and Hector. Feel free to find me on twitter (@ancientblogger) Music by Brakhage (Le Vrai Instrumental)

Författaren Hannele Mikaela Taivassalo, dokumentaristen Viktor Granö och programledaren Pia Abrahamsson pratar om erotik i litteraturen. De utgår från Lars Eric Krogius livsverk Penthesilea. Krogius sista önskan var att romanen skulle publiceras postumt på Söderströms förlag. Så skedde aldrig. Krogius snuskiga manuskript gömdes hos författarens släktingar men nu, ett halvt sekel efter Krogius död, ger Förlaget ut den fascinerande Penthesilea. Lyssna också på radiodokumentären på Arenan: Dokumenterat. Programmet sändes den 9 april 2017.

Hello 2017 we're back! In this third episode of the Screen Queens podcast Damian is talking about all kinds of kickass action heroes. Do you know who Penthesilea is? You will soon. Let Damian take you an an epic and entertaining journey through the history of women in action [films]. http://www.facebook.com/hotchickswithbigbrains

Die Produktionen der Festspiel-Werkstatt der Bayerischen Staatsoper nähern sich auf zeitgenössische und experimentelle Weise dem Spielzeitthema. In diesem Rahmen findet deshalb am 29. Juni 2016 die Uraufführung des Werks "Mauerschau" statt, einer Oper über Heinrich von Kleists "Penthesilea". Im Gespräch mit BR-KLASSIK berichten der Komponist Hauke Berheide und Amy Stebbins über das gemeinsame Projekt.

Join Dr. Carlos as he chats with movie actress Nadine Vinzens and former Miss Switzerland. Nadine Vinzens received worldwide recognition of being Miss Switzerland and Face of the Universe. At that time she did boycott Miss World which was hold in Nigeria. A woman was supposed to be killed just because she was pregnant and not married. Thanks to her brave act that the woman survived.After her title, Nadine travelled all over the world as a model, studied acting at the Lee Strasberg Institute Los Angeles and worked for clients such as Black Eyed Peas singer Fergie, Ed Hardy, Adonia,Dior, Swarovski, Lloyd Klein and InStyler. She became worldwide press in magazines like ELLE, Vogue and Cosmopolitan. She is best known for the movies "Mary&Johnny", "Das Missen Massaker", stageplays such as Elektra, Penthesilea, Wie fünf Mädchen im Branntwein jämmerlich umkommen and TV shows like CSI:NY, Rules of Engagement and 11th Hour.Nadine is the new testimonial for Isharya Jewelry, Kaszluv Glasses, Bullets 4 Peace in Europe and 2ndskin Tattoo & Piercing. She is also starred in TV commercials of LG, Fuel TV, VISA and worked with artists such as Britney Spears, Young Jeezy, Grammy Nominee Al Walser and more. Her latest Feature Film is "Four Senses" which had its screening at the Cannes Film Festival 2013. Nadine was nominated for the "Prix Walo" award as best actress 2013.

"Diese Auszeichnung hat mich schon überrascht" - Hans-Jürgen Syberberg über die Auszeichnung seines Fernsehfilms "Theodor Hirneis oder wie man ehemaliger Hofkoch wird" mit dem Adolf-Grimme-Preis Es waren bis jetzt etwa knapp drei Dutzend Filme, die ihn zu einem Regisseur machten, der für viele zur Kultfigur wurde. "Der Tagesspiegel" vom 10.11.10 bezeichnete ihn dann auch als "Meister des monumentalen Films" und für "Die Zeit" vom 29.8.13 war er "der besessenste Regisseur der Nachkriegszeit". Hans-Jürgen Syberberg – eine der außergewöhnlichsten Gestalten des deutschen Films. Die ersten Auszeichnungen Hans-Jürgen Syberberg kam am 8.12.35 in Nossendorf in Pommern zur Welt. Zur Schule ging er zunächst in Rostock, das Abitur erlangte er allerdings schon in München, wohin er 1953 übersiedelte. Hier studierte er sodann Germanistik und Kunstgeschichte. Seine Karriere nahm ihren Anfang beim Bayerischen Rundfunk, für den er zunächst Kulturberichte, später auch TV-Dokumentionen und Fernsehspielfilme drehte. Erste Erfolge stellten sich auch bald ein: zunächst kam der Film "Fritz Kortner probt Kabale und Liebe" heraus und schließlich die zweite Dokumentation "Fritz Kortner spricht Monologe für die Schallplatte", die mit dem Deutschen Filmpreis ausgezeichnet wurde. Und es sollte nicht bei der einen Auszeichnung bleiben. Denn auch dem ersten Spielfilm von Hans-Jürgen Syberberg, "Scarabea – Wie viel Erde braucht der Mensch?", wurde in zwei Kategorien das Filmband in Gold des Deutschen Filmpreises verliehen - für die darstellerische Leistung und für die beste Kamera. Doch die bekanntesten Filme des Regisseurs standen noch bevor. Meister des monumentalen Films Spätestens seit der sogenannten „Deutschen Trilogie“ war Hans-Jürgen Syberberg aus der bundesdeutschen Filmdiskussion nicht mehr wegzudenken. Der erste Teil, "Ludwig – Requiem für einen jungfräulichen König", ebenfalls preisgekrönt, beschäftigt sich mit der Geschichte von Ludwig II., dem König von Bayern und hatte 1972 seine Uraufführung. Zwei Jahre später folgte die Filmbiografie "Karl May" mit Helmut Käutner in der Titelrolle. Und schließlich 1977 "Hitler – ein Film aus Deutschland" – als Abschluss von Syberbergs Versuch einer Auseinandersetzung mit einigen Aspekten deutscher Geschichte. Es folgten nun zahlreiche weitere Arbeiten von Hans-Jürgen Syberberg, die seinen Ruhm festigten. Erwähnt seien hier unter anderem die über vierstündige Verfilmung von Richard Wagners "Parsifal" von 1982, der Experimental-Film "Die Nacht" von 1985, der ihm eine weitere Auszeichnung mit dem Deutschen Filmpreis brachte, oder auch der Dokumentarfilm "Penthesilea" von 1988. Hans-Jürgen Syberberg wurden zahlreiche Auszeichnungen zuteil. Außer den schon genannten Ehrungen mit dem Deutschen Filmpreis, wurde er unter anderem auch mehrfach mit dem Preis der Deutschen Kritiker ausgezeichnet und ist Träger des Bundesverdienstkreuzes. Heute lebt der Regisseur in seinem Geburtsort Nossendorf, wo er sein Vaterhaus erwarb. Auf seiner privaten Internetseite kann man das Haus mit vier Webcameras betrachten. Im März 1973 sprach DW-Mitarbeiterin Elisabeth Bachtler mit Hans-Jürgen Syberberg über die Auszeichnung seines Fernsehfilms „Theodor Hirneis oder wie man ehemaliger Hofkoch wird“ mit dem Adolf-Grimme-Preis. Autor: Andreas Zemke Redaktion: Diana Redlich