(On the eastern bank of the Thermodon River, Anatolia, Turkey, 1246 BCE)

Thirty-three centuries before, and almost directly on the other side of the world, Penthesilea, now a young woman of eighteen years entered a clearing on her horse. She carried across her shoulder a sturdy and tightly strung bow. Hanging from her horse's neck was a leather quiver of bronze-tipped arrows, the points sharp enough to cut flesh like a knife. Her hand-woven clothing was gathered tightly at her waist, draped over one shoulder, and fell loosely about her breasts.

This light garment, the color of sun-bleached river stones was tied just above her hips by an ornate belt of twisted leather and decorated by green and black beads. Two tattoos, one on each upper arm, were now sported for individual ornamentation on Penthesilea's body-both of lionesses the size of her hand. On the left upper arm, seen as she held her bow outstretched, the fierce cat was incised with great detail. It was crouched and ready to pounce. On her right arm, with which she drew the bow string and deadly arrows backwards, the tattoo of the creature was caught in a sleek, mid-air leap-poised to release all its agile strength in an air-born arch.

Being now an adult in the clan of Daughters of the Moon,, Penthesilea's legs were bare but kept warm against the coarse winter fur of her horse's flanks. Her own hair, a sun-streaked brown, long and straight, flashed across her tanned face in the constant wind. It was a noble face, armed with serious blue-gray eyes, yet it was counterbalanced with a sensually expressive and inviting mouth.

Her 'Sisters' had remarked that since her childhood this enigmatic look always seemed on the verge of smile. And for one who could be so forceful and swift in battle, her voice was surprisingly soft and subdued. This paradox only commanded more respect among the other women and girls and brought unsought endearment from all her 'Sisters.' They would listen intently as she spoke of strategies for battle or addressed all the females on other issues more sensitively.

These Amazon women, within a few short years, had come to honor their new queen sufficiently to support her unquestionably, and if necessary, and customary, were prepared to lay down their life for her. Above Penthesilea's brow on this day, she wore a delicate, thin band of solid gold-a rare ornament among the others, subtly designating her royal position in the tribe.

On a slight precipice this regal Amazon brought her horse 'Laika' to a motionless position, while both horse and rider listened for sounds beyond the periphery of the rocks and trees below. She was comfortably alone, but alert, clutching the bone handle of a bronze war sword given her by her mother, and her mother before her. Her grandmother had taken it as a trophy of battle from a dead Mycenaean warrior during a tragic battle they would call the "Rape of Antiope." This heavy weapon hung securely fastened in its sheath around her mount's neck, the leatherwork decorated in black predator birds. It was ever-ready to be employed, as her years of training and some seven separate and lethal battle experiences had already proven.

Penthesilea had ridden out that morning on a recognizance journey to pinpoint the progress of the enemy-a group of Proto-Cimmerian men whom they had rebuffed twice before in previous attempted raids. Both she and the animal she depended upon could smell that this foe had been there, passing through the meadow earlier. Her own nostrils flared slightly as she detected the subtle yet disgusting scent in the air. It was a dreaded odor she had been taught to avoid-a distinctive smell which accompanied raids in the dark of night. Such assaults, if not successfully rebuffed, could include the capture, rape, and death of any number of her 'Sisters.' That distinctive scent was the smell of men.

* * *

It was nearly ten-thirty in the evening when an exhausted Nicasio arrived at Daniela's parent's house in the City. He had only called her once in route and she seemed only mildly anxious to see him that night. When she met him at the double front doors, after passing through the electronic security gate, she embraced him coolly, but did not look directly into his eyes.

"We need to talk, Angelina," Nicasio requested, as she led him along the entryway path. They progressed inside, into the light of the sumptuous living room. To his surprise, Nicasio found three people sitting comfortably in the large room. Two were on the over-stuffed divan and one was lounging, head back, in a cream and gray-striped wingback chair. It was a piece of furniture which Nicasio had always remembered being empty.

"Hello Mr. Collins . . . Mrs. Collins," he said cordially to Daniela's parents. He then looked at the unknown body slumped lifelessly across from them.

"This is my father's brother, Nicasio . . . Jason." Daniela quickly inserted the introduction, while looking at the disheveled man seated a little too catatonically in the large chair. "My Uncle is here from Massachusetts," she continued. "Waltham? Isn't it Uncle?"

The uncle held up a hand with some effort, as if taking a dying oath, but did not look directly at Nicasio.

"My pleasure," Nicasio responded, almost imperceptibly.

"We haven't seen much of you Nick," interjected Daniela's father, louder and more hospitably. He held a large wine glass close to his chest.

"Dani tells us you're on some sort of . . . secret mission . . . or something? For Cal these days? Is that true?"

"Well, no. It's more . . . of a research opportunity, actually." He looked at Daniela sternly. "I took it on basically for the advantages . . . My professorship at Cal."

Daniela's mother, with her ever-pleasant and overly-cheery voice entered the conversation. "Well come in, Nicasio! Please . . . sit down and join us. It sounds like a very interesting project. Now, what is it . . . you are doing exactly?"

A Philippina house keeper appeared out of nowhere and handed Nicasio an equally large crystal goblet. Half-filled with chilled white. He was always amazed at the weight of such glasses.

"Mother, he's very tired right now. I think we'll just excuse ourselves into the study."

"Very well, darling. But we're always anxious to hear what Nicasio is doing for the university. His work must be just so fascinating!"

She then looked across at her still lifeless brother-in-law.

"Jason, you might be interested to know that Nicasio is soon to become a professor . . . at Berkeley. He's already teaching a course in . . .California. . . something or other."

"History," Nicasio added after quickly sipping the wine.

"Well you see . . . Jason here," she continued loudly, "used to teach economics at BabsonCollege. That is . . . before he went into his own business . . . and well, that's now. . ." Her voice suddenly trailed off for some unknown reason.

"Yeah, yeah," was the monotone comment from the reclining uncle, looking up rather emotionally detached from the group.

Daniela finally broke in, impatiently.

"So. Nicasio and I will be leaving you to your discussion now, Mother."

She took Nicasio by the hand and abruptly led him into the large study at the other end of the house on the first level. This was precisely the room they had been together the last time they had seen each other. Nicasio was suddenly envisioning her lying on top of him.

They soon sat facing each other at a large library table near the bay window. As Nicasio took another sip of his wine, the illumination of the city twinkled far below. As it was a clear night, Tiburon, the large island behind Alcatraz was particularly vivid and aglow with its white and yellow lights.

Nicasio seemed suddenly nervous and concerned. "So . . . Dani. I have to ask you. When we talked yesterday morning on the phone. I heard a man's voice next to you . . . It wasn't your father's. And I . . ."

"What?"

"A man, Dani. There was a man's muffled voice in the background. Early in the morning."

Daniela's frown of incomprehension suddenly turned to a smile.

"That was Jason, Nicasio! My crazy uncle, you just met. He got up early and was asking me for things he needed. It's while he's staying here."

"Jason?"

He looked back toward the other end of the house.

"Your uncle? The guy I just . . ."

"Yes. He's a lost soul right now. His business has been failing for some time. His house in New England is in some kind of . . . foreclosure or something. So you were worried about . . . him?"

"Well no, it just sounded like . . ."

"Like what? Like who?"

"Well, like someone else, I don't know. He was very close to you. And you seemed to be . . . hiding his voice."

"Nicasio? Who else besides my father would I be talking to at 7:30 in the morning . . . here. In my parent's house?"

"Well it was your cell phone. And I just thought . . . maybe you were . . ."

"That I was somewhere else? . . . With someone else?"

There was a natural twinge of incredulity and whimsical surprise to Daniela's voice that allayed Nicasio's fears.

"Come on, silly. I'm not like that. Have I ever been that way in five years with you?"

"I know, Angelina. But. It just made me think . . ."

"About me being with someone else?"

"Yeah, actually . . . It did."

"Well. If you continue to break our dates and don't see me for days at a time . . . I suppose I could become like that."

Daniela was smiling now, entertaining the idea as a novel possibility, but obviously not seriously. She looked up at the little angels in the wainscoted ceiling as she thought again and smiled more fully.

"You don't really mean that, Daniela."

He was looking at her closely for any trace of deception or subterfuge. To Nicasio she did seem more confident than ever these days. More capable of being flirtatious. Her face was radiant. Obviously from being outdoors during the afternoons. Her hair was now down, the way she liked to wear it when she rode her horse.

The young scholar purveyed the lithe outlines of her familiar body through her tight green sweater and black slacks. He was thinking the way he had done the day he met her. There was no denying she was a beautiful. Capable of attracting any man.

"OK Danni. So about this project I'm on. I've told you. In two weeks or less I'll be leaving for some research in Spain . . . Seville to be exact. And then possibly . . ."

"Oh, please don't tell me Turkey again!"

"Alright. But it will be out of the country. Europe for sure. Look, Danni. I really . . ."

He hesitated, at a loss for words.

"I just want you to come with me there. To Spain . . . or where ever. It's only for a couple of weeks at the most."

"What? So what about my job, Nicasio? My parents?"

"Dani, you're twenty-four now. We've talked about this. You should be able to go anywhere you please. With anyone you wish at your age."

"Anyone?" She was smiling again, as if she had just learned a new tactical move in a chess game. She was reveling cruelly now in her newly-found power."

"Yes, I suppose . . . as long as it's me." Nicasio was smiling now. He leaned over and kissed her softly and slowly on the lips.

"Mmmmmm," she purred. She pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes. "You are being very convincing now, Professor Carvajal."

"I'm not a professor yet."

"Will be soon though . . . right?"

"Not if this schedule I'm living with kills me first. You know how much sleep I've had this week?"

"Besides, Nicasio . . . this is a crazy idea. Can you even afford to go to those places right now? And what about the class you're teaching? Your students? Yourdissertation?"

"Cal is providing a substitute lecturer for this term. And they're still going to pay me . . . for my work with Professor Simons. Even more it turns out."

"Why?"

"I can't talk about it now. It's complicated."

"What?"

But all my travel and accommodations are included in this. Cal is paying for everything."

She stopped him before he attempted to embrace her.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, Dani. I am. It's super important."

"OK . . . next question . . ."

"Shoot."

She was looking more seriously into his eyes again.

"Do you still love me?"

"I can't believe you're asking me that. Of course I do."

She smiled and looked back up at the ceiling again, coyly.

"Well, you know . . . I may need a little more convincing of that."

"Like how? I just asked you to come with me on an amazing trip. To a romantic city"

"Well. . ." She paused-still playing the new game. "I thought the kiss was better."

Nicasio leaned toward here and they kissed again, more passionately.

"I Wish your parents weren't home. . ." he said, looking down at the all too familiar Oriental rug below them.

"Well, there's always your place, Professor."

"Hmmmm. Thought you'd never ask . . . Let's go."

The two passed back through the living room where a somber conversation was droning on between Mr. Collins and his now even more despondent brother. Daniela's mother had presumably gone off to bed as she liked to do, much earlier than the rest.

As Daniela and Nicasio exited the metal gate, passing out into the moist night air of the City, they stopped in front of the car door. He put his arms around her in a warm embrace.

"OK. So now it's your time . . . for 'truth or dare," he said."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . do you still love me?""Oh, that," she said, uncharacteristically cool.

"Oh that? That's your answer?

"For now . . . yes. That's my answer."

"Dani? I'm asking if you still love me, Angelina."

"And I'm trying to tell you honestly . . . but I really don't know."

"You're serious then?"

"I can't explain it. It's more about me than you, Nicasio. It's about work. My life. Your work. I don't know . . . Just be patient with me. I feel different. OK? . . . About everything right now."

Nicasio was silent. Though it was a clear on the hills of San Francisco, he felt an empty, cold fog enveloping him.

"Nicasio. . . If you're asking if I want to make love with you this very moment . . . the answer is yes. Very much. But if you ask me . . . even what I thinkabout myself these days . . . I can't tell you. Do you understand? I feel I'm changing somehow."

"But how?"

"I just don't know. It's a bit scary . . . but at the same time, it's not. I'm just feeling I want to . . . change everything about my life right now."

"What are you talking about now, Dani?"

"I wish I knew. But that's seriously all I can tell you. It has very little to do with you or anyone else, Nicasio. Really. It's just about me."

"OK. Look, Angelina. I need to do some serious reading in the Bancroft and Cal's main library. Starting tomorrow for Simons. A couple of days. Minimum. It's really urgent stuff. But I want to start seeing you . . . every night again, Dani. After that I'll be planning for the trip. Our trip. The professor is arranging the details . . . It will be for us now."

She was silent and seemed sad at what she had revealed to him.

"Come on Danni. Things will change . . . for the better. I promise. You need to see things differently, that's all. From a different place. This trip will do you good."

She was pensive for a moment, as if coming back from a very distant place.

"You say Spain? Seriously?"

"Yes. For starters, Seville. The Archivo General de Indias, to be exact. And afterwards . . . Athens, Greece. Things are leading us there right now it seems."

She was staring now, into the floral patterns of the exquisite carpet.

"I'll see what comes up over next week," he said. "Professor Simons is putting together this whole thing as we speak. Fortunately, he won't be going along. This creates the perfect getaway for us both, Danni. Just to be ourselves in a foreign place. What do you think? Are you in?"

Nicasio could see a change in the weather slowly coming over Daniela's demeanor.

"Possibly, Nicasio. I don't know . . . It's going to be pretty difficult to convince my boss of this. But you're right. It really is what I need right now . . . to just get away. I could definitely stand to be in a different world . . . Even for a few days."

"Well . . . that I can guarantee . . . and much more. You work on it, from your end with work OK? Plan for a full week at least for sure."

"Alright. I'll see, Nicasio."

"You might even find this whole thing . . . I mean the topic of this project, kind of fascinating."

"Oh yeah. I'm sure."

"How about . . . independent . . . aggressive women . . . who all want to royally kick men's asses . . ?"

"What are you saying, Nicasio?"

"And who just want to use them for SEX!"

He smiled and waited for her reaction as he leaned into her.

"I'm sure you're studying all that, Professor."

"Well come along then . . . and you'll find out."

"You still haven't told me what this project really is about, Nicasio. Will you ever?"

"Not if you don't join in with the research. It is pretty classified to you outsiders. And I'm not exaggerating that."

"OK. And so what would I do . . . as in insider?"

"You'll give me something . . . which I shamelessly can't provide for myself."

Daniela laughed out loud.

"I knew where this was going. And what is that?"

"How about your . . . woman warrior's perspective?"

"Right, Nicasio. What's that?"

"OK Then. How about your . . . hungry desire to torture me right now . . . and just use me . . . for pleasure?"

"Now you're talking!" She said in a playful whisper. "And if you can ever get this car moving, I'll practice that talent once we reach your apartment."

They both laughed.

"Come on, Daniela, it's not like I'll be taking you to an unbearable place in a week or so. It could pretty seriously be romantic. Restful and enjoyable for you."

For the first time, he could see in her face that she was seriously thinking about the trip. If nothing else, for her piece of mind.

"Well . . . you do drive a hard bargain don't you, Professor?"

She was pressing her body against his now. Nicasio looked into her expressive eyes and put his hands around her waist.

"Would you like me to elaborate even more on the . . . hard part of that bargain?"

She smiled more devilishly. "I think I'm understanding that now, Professor. Let's just get into the car, Nicasio . . ."

* * *