Chapter Fourteen

Scotland

I changed my name, had it made, sold my soul and I never got paid.
It's one long line after another and you can't get a green card
And all you want is to lie with your lover, but distance makes it too hard
Who's Afraid of Thomas Wolfe?
Josh Joplin Group

 Duncan MacLeod traveled the Astral for the third time in less than twenty-four hours which was more than he’d done so in the last three hundred years and the first time he’d allowed Callestah to take him. Safe, sound and whole once more standing on the shores of Glastonbury, Scotland he looked down at his small traveling companion.

“Well then, this is your stop.” Calla said to him. “Now you go see your Mother and I will call for the Lady of the Lake.” She said to him. “Don’t worry your Mother loves you and she’ll be glad to help, even more glad to see you again.”

Knowing what she’d said was true he smiled wider. “Meet back here?”

“Go on,” she told him, “time’s wasting. Don’t look back, Duncan, promise me, no matter what you feel or might hear, you will not look back.”

“Ollie,” Duncan stuttered kindly, “I’m not like them, you can show me.”

“No sense taking the chance, is there?” Calla whispered with a frown. “Off you go, go on shoo.” Standing there she watched Duncan turn his back and leave her behind making his way off to the old knotted Rowan Tree which lead to the Dark Kingdom. After his shadow disappeared from her view, Calla began walking toward the shore and as she did the soft robe she wore fell away turning into another robe, one much grander and more regal than the simple bath robe she loved. Her new robe flowed around her in great billows of the finest dark green silk, it was hand stitched by Minerva some time ago and she was the greatest seamstress ever known. Minerva wove her magick into the royal robes and kissed them with delicate golden embroidery and purple flowers.

Callas’ bare feet became clad in leather sandals adorned with pearls and opals, the straps if which spiraled upward on her ankles to her calves in a criss-cross pattern. Each of her ten fingers bore a ring, each different, but each with its own significance. Lastly, on the top of her graying auburn head appeared a crown of lavender and bay laurel. With a heavy heart she stood on the shore, parted her lips and began to sing a siren’s song, calling to the Lady of the Lake, letting her know of her plight and need for assistance. The day was cold and crisp, not a cloud in the endless blue sky to stir up and mar the calm water its surface smooth as glass. Calla looked down as she sang and took in the image of the Lady Callestah in all her glorious Splendor staring back at her. More radiant than the dawn and just as full with the promise of new life, all she could do, to keep from breaking down in tears, was hope this wouldn’t take very long so that she could go back to being Calla Jackson, wife of Daniel, mother of Colleen, Nicholas and soon-to-be new arrival. Yes, nothing would please her more she thought as she stroked the bulge in her waistline. “I never wanted to be you.” She whispered to her reflection.

“And I never wanted to be you.” Her reflection hissed back.

Soon a small boat appeared in the distance, it neared and Calla walked down to the shoreline to where she could put her toes in the seawater. The small boat kissed the shore and a stunningly beautiful woman stepped from it. She was clad in a long emerald gown made of soft velvet and a crown of gold sat upon her golden head. “Good Lady Nimue,” Callestah said softly and curtsied deeply before the fair-haired woman. “I am Callestah, born there in Avalon and Daughter to Lord Ares and Lady Aphrodite.”

“Greetings, Callestah,” the woman said in sparkling tones, “I am aware of you who are and where you were born. Why have you called me forth?”

“I require your help,” Callestah said with a soft smile, “Lord Ares sends me on a very important mission to the place of my birth, will you ferry me across?”

“Climb aboard my ship, Lady.” Nimue invited with a wave of her slender hand. “Though I must say, your Father is not well received here.”

“I know,” Callestah mumbled as she climbed into the small wooden boat. “I am very grateful for your assistance, Lady.”

“Save your gratitude, you may not be granted what you came here for.” Nimue pushed the boat away from shore and they were off to Avalon.

“You know what I seek?” Callestah asked as she turned around to look at the splendid woman ferrying the boat.

“You seek the sword.” Nimue replied. “Many seek the sword.”

“How many have received it?” Callestah inquired and the shores of Avalon became an outline on the horizon.

“None,” Nimue said without emotion.

Callestah’s heart sunk perhaps she would fail Ares and the entire world. “I see,” she mumbled. “Any advice?”

Nimue ceased ferrying the small boat, stick in hand she gazed down at the seated Goddess and smiled wide “None,” this time there was a hint of good humor and respect in her tone. She began to ferry once more. Avalon was now more than a sketchy outline on the blue horizon it was a glowing reality made more concrete by the wind which carried the sound of pipes and flute to their ears. “Why do you return here without a Sa’Tan?”

“I have none.” The Lady Callestah muttered without turning around. “Once I did but he is my Husband now. The bond between us was shattered long ago.”

“Obviously not,” Nimue said softly and continued to pilot the small boat the nearing shore. “You’ve created a bond of your own making, for this alone they will want to meet him, why did you not bring him?”

Because having him for a Husband wasn’t my idea, The Lady Callestah thought but did not voice. Calla loved him with all of her heart and Daniel was a good man with nothing but the best of intentions—eh, well, yeah, most of the time that was. If the Lady was honest she would admit that she also loved Daniel Jackson. Then again, were she honest, she would also have to admit that she didn’t love him the same way Calla did. “My Husband is mortal born, I was unsure he would be welcome here.”

The small boat kissed the far shore and came to a stop. “End of the line,” Nimue intoned. “We shall ask Covetina and Morgan if they wish you to bring this Daniel before us. As for myself, I would like to meet and am disappointed you’ve chosen to leave him behind.”

Gathering her robes quickly in her hands and holding them under her belly, The Lady Callestah sighed deeply while she climbed out of the boat. “For what purpose, Nimue? I have already said, he is not Sa’Tan. My Father sends me here on an important mission, there is no time for delay or family reunions.”

“You are a guest in our realm, Lady, I suggest you remember that.” Nimue said mindfully and they began to walk along the white sand beach toward the City of Spires. “Your Father’s impudence will not serve your purpose here.”

Heart heavy in his chest and desperately searching his brain for the right words, Duncan MacLeod stood in a hidden glen in front of a massive Rowan tree talking to himself. “Mother,” he started then cleared his throat, “Mom,” another throat clearing. “Hello Mother,”

“Hello Son,” Queen Fiona replied from behind him. “I grew tired of waiting for your knock so I thought I would come to you. What brings you here?”

“Hi,” Duncan mumbled. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Will you come inside?” As she motioned toward the open door in the tree trunk with her slender hand, the yellow shawl around her shoulders slipped to her elbow. Fiona gently put it back so she wouldn’t be chilly on this clear crisp day.

“Yes, I think I will.”

This was unexpected then again so was his visit, Fiona smiled with genuine joy at the fact that her son would finally enter his home once more. “I’m glad you’re here, Duncan. It’s not often I get the pleasure of seeing your face.” Standing there looking her handsome son in the eye, all she wanted to do was take him into her small arms, hug him tightly, cover his face with a thousand kisses and tell him how much she missed him. Duncan didn’t want any such thing and might never want it. Even so, that was all right for now simply because he was standing there. Pushing open the secret door leading him inside and down the winding steps to the Dark Realm, Fiona understood that the joy she felt might be short lived. “What’s happened?” Fiona asked without looking back at Duncan as she scurried barefoot down the dirt covered stone steps holding up the hem of her white linen A-line gown. “What is it that brings you here?”

“Why don’t we talk over a glass of mead?” Duncan suggested.

Fiona stopped rushing down the steps and turned toward him her almond shaped eyes glowing in the darkness. “Glass of mead?” Fiona instinctively reached for her son’s hand. “Duncan, you’re frightening me,” she whispered. “You never want anything to do with me, now you’re here and you wish to chat over a stout glass of mead?”

Duncan hadn’t meant to alarm her but the situation was such that perhaps it couldn’t be helped. “I didn’t say I never wanted anything to do with you,” he corrected as her words echoed in his head. Duncan MacLeod was almost six hundred years old and in all that time part of him—like part of Callestah—never grew up and would always be a frightened angry ten year-old boy staring out of the top tower window in the Castle Dunvegan watching his mortal father kiss his Faery Queen Mother before she left them both behind never to return to the world of mortals.

“Yet, you’ve never forgiven me and I doubt you ever will.” Without giving him the chance to reply the delicate woman turned away from him to continue scampering down the steps. At the bottom there was a teeny-tiny door just big enough for your average four year-old to fit through. Fiona laid her delicate hand on the brass knob in the center of the door and disappeared, Duncan followed her inside.

As Daniel had done in Maeve’s kingdom thirteen years prior, they emerged into the Grand Parlor of the Dark Kingdom. Lit with the fires of a hundred torches all around glittered with a strange iridescent black light. Fae of every size and shape milled about and tended their business but all stopped when Duncan MacLeod was seen standing by the entrance. The hearty scents of mead, roasting pig and broiling potatoes came to his nose. Damn it smelled good in here! Duncan’s stomach immediately began to rumble expressing its unhappiness at the fact that it was running on empty the past several hours. Around him was the faint lilt of harp music and fading laughter as the heads continued to turn toward him. “Hello,” Duncan said finally with as wide and genuine a smile as his nervous muscles could muster. A muddled murmur went through the gathering crowd of Fae. “Yes,” Duncan said clearing his throat, “it’s me, your…” he rolled his dark and had to shove the word through a jaw which had clamped shut. “Prince.” He spat and managed not to choke. Another great murmuring wave went through the even larger crowd, Faeries were popping in from every corner of the Dark Kingdom as the news of Duncan MacLeod’s return spread faster than the hottest wild fire.

“You’re causing quite a stir.” Queen Fiona intoned with a sad smile. “You should come by more often then they would be accustomed to your presence.” Clearly Duncan was uncomfortable with the way her people were looking at him. Duncan, like Callestah, never wanted much of anything to do with the magickal side of his life and the reality of who and what he was. No, like Callestah he came so far to acceptance, getting the basics and what was necessary even going a bit beyond that but to say ‘I am Duncan MacLeod son of Norman MacLeod and Faery Queen Fiona, Prince of the Dark Kingdom,’ well, that whole thing just stuck in his craw and would never come out. So, hundreds of years ago, he shortened it to ‘I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod’ and left it at that.

“About that mead?”

“Will you take it in my hall or will here be good for you?” Fiona asked.

While he didn’t like the way they were all looking at him as though he were some type of savior or something they did have the right to know what he was going to say. “Here is fine.” Duncan strode past the crowd over to a small storefront which was not a storefront as it lead to no store. It was merely a sign hanging in the air over a bar behind which stood a barkeep. If nothing else the Fae were known for their alcohol. “Mead…stout.” Duncan ordered. A rather surly little man with silver wings shoved a full silver pint container in front of him. “All of you should hear this…..”

Approaching the Great Wall that lined the beach Callestah’s heart was cold and tight in her chest. The massive wooden gates which ere reinforced with wrought iron grates baring the images of fierce fire breathing dragons were daunting. One would never knock them down or scale them. Without asking the Gates rose silently allowing them entrance into Avalon which was just as beautiful as Callestah remembered it to be. The City of Spires reached ever upward toward the sky in hued spindles of blue, green, gold and purple. The air wasn’t this clean or this sweet smelling anywhere else, she drew in a deep breath to fill her lungs. Walking down the dewy brick streets she realized that Avalon was no bigger than Aphrodite and Eros’ island which was the same island she spent some of her childhood on. While the Greek island was no more than that, an open lush island in the middle of the sea with Eros’ Tower being the biggest structure and Aphrodite’s Temple being the most spread out. Avalon had many buildings and much wildlife, it teemed with plant life and blooming flowers met the eye everywhere. For as many buildings and roads as there were it always seemed there weren’t nearly enough people. The streets were wide and clean and completely passable. Avalonians passed by and stopped to stare at odd intervals but on the whole the place was empty. The few people treading upon the glistening streets turned to gaze at Callestah just as the Fae gazed at Duncan MacLeod in the Dark Kingdom. Callestah, unlike Duncan, smiled and nodded her head at each of them acknowledging their presence before her.

“Where is everyone?” Callestah asked as she looked around. “Avalon was a bustling city the last I was here this is barely an outlying town.”

“We are old and we are dying,” Nimue said without emotion as they reached the center of the great Spired City. “Perhaps it is good that you are here.”

Once inside the grand building with its seven golden spires the other two Ladies of Avalon were swift to join them. Morgan Le Fey the fairest of the three, her sunlight hair trailing to the ground beneath her petite bare feet held back from her delicately carved face and glowing violet eyes with strands of spun gold was accompanied by the Fae Queen Covetina, the Goddess of Water. Covetina was her exact opposite but no less beautiful with her short black hair, dark skin and sparkling blue eyes. Unlike Morgan Le Fey who was not much the way she’d been portrayed over the centuries by the Mortals. Rather Morgan was wise and kind and of wispy figure Covetina’s reputation for a spit fire was well deserved and rather than being a waif her figure was pleasingly plump and she was very proud of it. Covey always did love to eat. Between the two of them stood the third Lady of Avalon, Nimue lover of Merlin and Lady of the Lake or more appropriately, Lady of the Lakes. Who physically speaking was somewhere in between the two women flanking her.

“It has been many a year since you graced this hall, Callestah,” Morgan Le Fey began, “why are you here?”

“Yes, what brings you to us after all this time?” Covetina demanded while she grabbed a handful of grapes and sat at the table in the room. “Here you are a grown woman full with child yet you come before us without a Sa’Tan?”

“Greetings Lady Morgan and Lady Covetina,” Callestah pushed through tight lips she was tired of being asked about Daniel Jackson. “Yes it has been long since I was here, I apologize for my absence Ladies.” Swallowing a bit of her pride in order to grease the way she bowed lightly before them. “Lord Ares has sent me here today.”

“Without a Companion?” Morgan Le Fey asked. “This does not seem wise to especially not given the child and the fact that you are ill.”

Still with her head bowed and her eyes cast to the floor, Callestah spoke. “I am not ill.” She whispered knowing they were staring at the pronounced gray in her auburn hair. None of them had any gray in their heads and they were all thousands of years older than her. Callestah had to admit that there was much more gray today than there was yesterday and tomorrow would bring even more but that was not an issue to contend with now. “I came with Duncan MacLeod but he is off in the Dark Kingdom. As I told Lady Nimue, once I had a Sa’Tan but no longer, our bond was broken by Maeve herself and my Sa’Tan is now my husband. I have not brought him here with me because he is of mortal birth and did not believe him welcome by you.”

Sharing a strong telepathy between the three of them they discussed the matter and found each thought her stretching the truth. “You will bring him here….” Morgan Le Fey began

“Please Ladies!” Callestah said suddenly raising her eyes and her voice. “You do not understand time is short! There is great danger approaching this planet.”

“What danger?” Covetina demanded plucking another bunch of grapes from the bowl.

“Lord Ares sends me on a mission of the utmost importance,” Callestah began, “I am here to claim Excalibur and Achilles. I am to bring them to Ares as soon as I can.”

“You have not answered the question,” Nimue intoned. “What danger looms on the horizon? Why should we help?” She seated herself at the table and reached for the decanter of wine to pour herself a glass.

Well now they were getting some where. Lady Callestah paced around the table and the three women sitting at it while she told a very short version of a very long tale. She began with living with Kanan, told of her defunct bond with Daniel and her marriage to him, the children they had, and finally of the threat facing all of them. It was clear they were displeased on almost all counts. The Dual Goddess coming to claim her third and become the all-powerful Triple Moon Goddess was upsetting enough but the fact they found themselves agreeing with Ares’ plan was even more so. When Callestah was done speaking she fell silent and watched the three of them mull it over mind to mind to mind. She couldn’t actually hear their conversation but she gauged it well by the expressions on their faces.

“You will bring this Daniel before us.” Morgan Le Fey said finally breaking the silence.

“Ladies please,” she begged, “there is no time. I promise I will bring Daniel before you when this is over. Now you must grant me the sword and the warrior without delay.” The three women said nothing. “I don’t understand why you want to meet him so much, what is so important about Daniel Jackson?”

“You ask this with much disdain, Lady.” Nimue remarked. “Do you not love your husband?”

Now wasn’t the time to go into such things so the last Olympian Goddess held her tongue. “I just wish to know why I should do this before you help when the need is this dire.”

“Does Ares not intend for Daniel Jackson to wield Excalibur in Earth’s defense?” Coventina asked filling her own wine glass.

“Daniel knows nothing of sword fighting.”

“Excalibur is much more than a mere sword.” Covetina chastised.

“You don’t mean to tell us that Ares intends to use it!” Morgan shot raising her voice for the first time during the conversation. “He must know he cannot wield Excalibur only someone with a pure heart can wield and tame the sword. Ares doesn’t qualify.”

“Is Achilles not pure of heart?” Callestah asked. “I thought he might wield the sword.”

“Achilles is a brave and skillful warrior but nonetheless he kills not for Justice but for the glory of it so that his name will echo throughout the ages. How could such a man hold Excalibur?” Nimue asked. “Is your Daniel pure of heart?”

She wanted to answer them but Callestah wasn’t sure what the cut off for ‘pure of heart’ was. Did his time in Bacchus’ kingdom count against him? What about his hatred of Ares? “He is a mortal man no more and no less than that.”

“Mortal?” Covetina asked slyly, “strange, seems we heard something about red ambrosia and Daniel Jackson attaining Immortality by the grace of none other than Lord Ares. Why do you sit here and lie to us while asking our help?”

“I apologize, Ladies, for this small indiscretion, you are correct Daniel is Immortal by Ares’ grace.” Callestah said softly. “I meant no harm, only to say that Daniel is no more or less flawed than anyone else might be.” Looking around at the hard faces staring back her she added, “please, do not hold this against me. You are wiser than this. I come here because the fate of our entire world hangs in the balance, surely that is more important than the longevity of my husband.”

“Enough,” Morgan said standing up from the table. “If you can draw the sword from the stone with your own hand, you may take it with you.”

Fair enough. “And Achilles?”

“I will take you to where he sleeps,” Nimue said also rising to her feet.

“This way, we’ll start with the sword.” Covetina said as she pushed herself up from the table with a small smile and then gestured toward a door at the far end of the room.

“So, you see, we could use your help.” Duncan MacLeod said finishing his tale and the last of the stout mead in his cup.

“Indeed you could.” Fiona replied emptying her own glass of mead. “But I don’t know what you want us to do, Duncan. We are very small…..”

“No, you’re not.” He retorted. “Do we have to play this game, Mother? You are no smaller than I am but you can make yourself appear that way, as can the rest of you.”

“Are you calling me, all of us, a liars?” Fiona accused the tips of her delicately pointed ears twitched as he pounded her little fist on the rugged wood table where they sat.

“No, Mother,” Duncan stepped back and bit, “I only meant that you’re size isn’t an encumbrance and you know it.” He leaned forward to look into her eyes. “Callestah will take Thor to free the Valkyrie after we are done here….”

“What is she doing in Avalon?” Fiona asked quickly. “You haven’t said.”

Duncan mulled it over for a moment and then came clean. “Ares sent her to get Achilles and Excalibur.”

“Well, I see.” Fiona sighed.

“What do you see, Mother?” Duncan asked.

“I see that the need is great, the threat real and we should do all we can to defend our home. You know this risks our being discovered, what will the Mortals do? How will they react? I worry about these things.”

Duncan didn’t have an answer for her. “You’re their Queen, its your job to worry about such things.”

“I only hope I’m a better leader than I was a Mother,” she grimaced. Duncan was taken aback by her words and the wetness in her lovely almond shaped eyes. Fiona didn’t give him the time to respond. “I will return to this SGC with you,” she said to Duncan then looked at the large impromptu gathering of her people. “Who will join me? Do not feel obligated, nothing will be said if opt to stay home.”

“What debt do we owe the Mortals?” A faceless voice in the crowd rang out. “They shun us and our ways, they mock us and tell themselves we never even existed. On top of that they spawn without control and they pollute everything they touch. Why should we help them?”

“Because,” Fiona began, “this is our world as well. If we let Aphrodite and Hecate destroy the Mortals then we are next.”

“She only wants the Olympians!” Another faceless voice shouted. “Why don’t we just hand them over?”

“I thought we held Life dearer than that.” Fiona said as she rose to her bare feet, hiked up the dress she wore and climbed onto the bar to stand in front of everyone.

“Mother,” Duncan held his arms up to her in case she should fall.

“My people, my friends, listen to me. I beg you, do not think of this as merely helping the Mortals who you’ve pushed us away so long nor as saving the necks of the Olympians with whom we’ve had a very strained relationship for many a year. We cannot let so many die not when we can help, we are obliged to do this. We are part of this world we have a responsibility to defend Her whenever there is a need. There is a need now. Still, I will not order you to come with or fight for Her, this decision belongs to each of you. I will fight, I may kill and I may die but I will not do so in vein and I will not all the I love and hold so dear slip away into oblivion without so much as batting an eye. Who will join me?” The challenge and elegant urgency in her voice rose higher than the disdain in those around her. Her heart in her throat and breath scant in her lungs she waited for the reply.

A great murmuring rumble went through the crowd of faeries and pixies surrounding them. Duncan watched the crowd with a practiced eye but found he could not gauge their response. One by one the delicate little creatures stepped or fluttered forward to offer their assistance to the cause.

“You won’t be sorry,” Fiona promised, “you’ve all made me so very proud. So when the time comes we’ll show these two Titan Wenches how the Celtics kick a little arse, won’t we?”

“Aye!” Was the roared unison response.

Deep under the castle of the three ladies, lie the winding catacombs which kept hidden the most precious secrets of Avalon. In the dark and dank their footfalls echoed while the torches threw their shadows in front and behind them in strange patterns. “Must I be pure of heart to draw the sword from the stone?” Callestah asked as they walked and in her innermost core she knew they were getting closer to the blade, she felt it in fact she could almost see it. “Can’t one of you….”

“All of us may extract the sword at any time,” Coventina explained. “It is you who’ve come here for it though you don’t know why or what will happen to it once you leave here. If the sword wishes to go with you then it will.”

The parade of four women stopped at a heavy wooden door adorned with an ornate brass knocker in the shape of a flying dragon. Morgan Le Fey took the knocker’s ring in her hand and knocked three solid times upon the door.

“Who goes there?” Croaked an aged voice.

“It is us, Gupp, open the door.” Nimue huffed. “We’ve someone here who comes to claim Excalibur.”

On the other side of the door the deep sound of a coughing laugh was heard as well as the sound of shuffling feet. The close the feet came to the door the louder the coughing laughter became. “Who would be so foolish?” Gupp grumbled and the door opened. “Who are you?” The old rickety man asked. He had eyes of the lightest blue but only one of them still saw on his face a beard so long it passed his chest .

“I am Lady Callestah, daughter to Lord Ares and Lady Aphrodite,” Callestah proclaimed. “I have come to pull Excalibur from its stone prison.”

“Eh, little scrawny, ain’t she?” Gupp asked. The Ladies didn’t answer him they just brushed past him on their way to the sword which was housed in this very room. “Hey, it’s been a while,” he said as he followed them, “I don’t suppose you’ve brought poor Gupp some type of goodies, a bucket of mead or perhaps some mutton stew?” It was clear from the way he gnashed his old yellow teeth together that it had been quite some time since anything resembling good food crossed those parched lips.

“Later, Gupp.” Nimue huffed. “Well, Callestah, there is it.” She waved her hand in front of them and all beheld the sight of an intricately carved double-edged broadsword jutting out of the piece of black granite. The torches in the room tossed their light on to the gleaming blade reflecting off its mirror finish and the fine emeralds encrusted in the ivory hilt. “The finest sword ever known to mankind.”

“Take your time,” Morgan advised.

“Oh, just go grab it,” Covetina mocked, “waiting just prolongs the agony and ultimately your defeat.”

Nimue cleared her throat at Covetina’s off-handed remark but said nothing.

Well, this was it. Part One of why she was here. OK. Rubbing the palms of her hands together gently Callestah walked forward across the small dank musty room to where the sword Excalibur sat glistening and waiting. Slowly she walked around it taking the entire mass of rock and metal in with her eyes and wondering if she didn’t pull the sword from the stone might the Avalonian gods smite her for being so bold and conceited as to try? Her palms now arm she pressed them lightly together and then held her fingers to her lips. Surely there must be some trick to this? All she had to do was figure it out. Callestah began to bite down on her bottom lip. She saw no trick, no button, no wire, no mirrors. Just the sword and the rock.

Gathering her nerve she stood behind the sword and looked at the found people staring back at her waiting in wonder. “Well, here goes,” she whispered and wrapped her hands around the ivory hilt of Excalibur. It was warm to the touch but more than that the sword was alive. She felt its energy in her fingers and instead of grasping it and rudely yanking it from its home she allowed the energy to mix with her and asked the sword if it wanted to come with her. In her mind, Excalibur agreed that it would go with her and entrust its care to the Lady Callestah. With no force at all, just like a warm knife through soft butter, it slid free of the rock. To her great surprise the sword was light as air, there was no resistance and no weight in her hand. The heart in her chest slowed and beat a more steady pace. “Bring me to Achilles.”

Now they traversed the distance back up through the labyrinth of the catacombs, Callestah holding Excalibur with both hands and the other Ladies lighting their way with their torches but nothing was said as they climbed back up the four miles they’d ascended into the Earth. Back to where they started now, in the Throne Room of the Ladies of Avalon they stopped at the table. Coventina, Nimue and Morgan sat and refreshed themselves while Callestah stood impatiently waiting for them. “Time is short.” She reminded them while they satisfied themselves with cold glasses of wine and plates of fruit to clear the dust from their throats which was lodged there from being so deep and so long underground. “Perhaps you should not engaged in the wine, Callestah, will not have a cold chalice of water?” Nimue invited. “Something to regain your strength?”

“Achilles sleeps in the highest tower,” Coventina said then burped loudly. She giggled and took up another handful of grapes. “It is a long walk you would do yourself and your child well to drink and eat before proceeding.”

A bit of water might be nice her throat was very dry. Callestah poured a cup of sparkling pure water from a silver pitcher and drank deeply. It was crisp and cold as it washed down her throat taking the thin layer of dust with it. “Bring it with you if you must but please let us keep going. Duncan and Ares are waiting.”

“You’re too impatient,” Morgan chastised. “A trait of your Father’s no doubt.”

“When it is my Mother who threatens everything that lives on this Earth, why is it my Father you mock?” Callestah asked hotly and slammed the cup of water down onto the table. “Just point the way, I will find him myself.”

The three of them looked from one to the other searching for some retort but clearly Callestah had a point. “Let us finish this then, is that how you feel?” Nimue asked.

“The sooner the better.” Callestah said in a harsh voice.

“Then what are you waiting for? I told you, he’s in the highest tower, go and get him.” Covetina invited. “It’s a long walk so I think I’ll rest here a bit we’ll be up later.”

The Lady Callestah said not a word though her legs ached and her lower back was stiff. Perhaps she might like to sit and rest for a while but still there was no time for such luxuries. Instead of speaking, she grabbed a thick bunch of red grapes and walked away. Maybe it had been a long time since she was here but she still knew how to get to the highest tower in Avalon which stood more than a thousand feet over the city. On her way to the hidden staircase which lead to the tower she munched handfuls of grapes spitting the seeds onto the marble floor as she went.

The spiraling staircase which led up to Achilles’ room was just as winding and narrow as the one which led down to the catacombs and just as dark. The staircase was secreted inside a wall and there were no windows and no one here to tend the torches which lined the walls at twenty foot intervals. Callestah grabbed the first one she found and using her magick brought it to life so that it would light her way. Wanting to be assured of having enough light for the trip up and the trip down, on her way up she lit those she came across at intervals of every other one. Sword in one hand torch in the other she made her way alone up the empty steps.

Sooner or later the others would follow her, whether they stayed to sate their bellies and slake their thirst first was the only question. No matter, Callestah intended to reach her goal and be on her way down before they caught up to her. It was long before her legs cried out for rest and her mind was dizzy from constantly going around and around this way she felt sick and the few grapes she’d eaten echoed that sentiment in her stomach. The baby moved, he felt heavy today maybe it was just this place or this task, for a moment she held the torch and sword in one hand and rubbed her extending belly with the other. Daniel’s child or not, it was still her child and she wanted it very much, after all she already loved him.

Nonetheless she kept walking, climbing and getting dizzy. Callestah figured she had to be more than halfway to her destination so why stop? Once she reached the room where he slept she might find a comfortable chair to sit in for a moment in any event it would be better than sitting upon the hard steps. The more she walked the more she climbed the more energy she exerted and the little flames lighting her way began to feel like small suns. Yet, Ares Daughter did not give up, she did not stop, she just plodded forward until she reached the top of the highest tower in all of Avalon and was greeted by red door.

No knocker on this one only a small brass knob. Perhaps they figured if you could climb all this way you deserved to be allowed into the room. Next to the door was an unlit torch in a metal holder, Callestah put the burning torch in her into the holder and tossed the other one to the floor before opening the door. The light inside was more than sufficient. Like Eros’ Tower, this room was 1/3 open to the world and the light from outside poured in revealing a lone man laying on a lone bed in a very large room.

No chairs, no tables, no dressers, no benches, nothing. Not even so much as a lamp. It was only Achilles who lay upon a bed so big that five women could join him and still have room for a few more. In all likelihood Achilles would not be interested in such things though he’d no doubt indulged in them once or twice in his Warrior’s Life. Here in this room he slept peacefully with his soft golden hair spread out on the pillow at his head and a full bear encompassing his face, Achilles was clad in the short metal skirt, single heavy leather and metal arm guard, as well as the aegis upon his dark head, in other words, he wore the traditional garb that modern people easily recognized. Laying on his body, caught between his two large hands was a broad sword, by his side a shield and at his left side a spear.

With tentative steps she neared him calling out his name “Achilles? It’s time to wake up now, come on, wake up.” Callestah called out as she craned her neck from side to trying to see if there was any reaction from him. Yet all he did was sleep. At his bedside now he was so far away in the middle of the big bed she picked up her robes and climbed up onto the mattress to crawl over to where he lay. “Achilles?” Callestah said in a louder voice and reached out to touch him. His skin was warm beneath her hand so she shook him and called him name once more. “Achilles! You must wake up!” With as much force as she could muster, she shook him back and forth but to no avail. “Don’t tell me I have to kiss you or something,” she complained, “oh, come on, just wake up!” On the verge of giving up and giving in to the call of the soft fluffy mattress below her, Callestah realized that even if Achilles did wake what good would it do anyone? Although he was not of Olympian descent, the Spartan was a bastard half-breed just like Nicholas and Colleen, Achilles could no more set eyes on her in this form than they could. Not wanting to give up control but near tiring herself out Callestah surrendered control of the body to Calla. The fine royal silk robes disappeared replaced by the Nautica terry cloth. “Achilles,” she whispered and shook him by the arms once more. “It is time to wake, Ares calls for you. Wake up.”

Eyes of the warmest brown lolled open to gaze upon her.

“Yes, that’s it wake up now.” She coaxed.

Having slept almost three thousand years Achilles was a bit lethargic and greatly confused. “Am I dead?” He asked in a hoarse voice. “Are you an angel, beautiful lady?”

“Don’t be frightened, Good Achilles, you are alive and I am no angel. I am Callestah, Lord Ares’ Daughter, he sends me to you it is time to War once more, Good Achilles.”

“Zeus cursed Ares and he has no Daughters. The last I remember….” His voice started to fade as the memories became clearer, “Paris shot me….Briseis!” Achilles cried out in fear and sat up on the magnificent bed. “Briseis!!”

“Shhh, she escaped and lived a long life.” Calla told him taking the lost man in her arms and holding him to her slight breast. “Rest a few moments,” she said. “Ares brought you here to Avalon,” she whispered and held him a bit closer, “you’ve slept here for thousands of years but you’re awake now.”

“Thousands of years?” He asked. “How has the world changed? Do they still remember my name?”

She did not hesitate, “Yes, Achilles they all know your name. Why, I even named one of my sons for you.”

The child in her moved and cleared some of the haze in his mind Achilles moved away from her and sat up putting a hand to his forehead and waiting for the thumping and dizziness to subside. While he did he took in his new companion. “Why are you not dressed, Lady? What rags are these you wear? Certainly no daughter of Ares would ever wear such a garment.”

“You sound like Ares, always grousing. Do you also feel well enough to walk?” Calla asked him and pushed herself off the bed before she could give in and lie down. “It’s a long journey to the bottom of the tower but once there you will find much to eat and to drink.”

“What sword is that you hold? That is not Ares’ blade.”

Calla held the sword up in front of her, “This is Excalibur, the sword of Arthur Pendragon. My Father, Ares, sent me here for it and you. If you do not believe me now you soon will when I take you to him. He’s waiting.”

Keeping Ares waiting was never a good idea and Achilles found his way off the plush bed that had been his home for all these years. He found his body stiff and his legs rubbery, Achilles held on to Calla for support as they made their way down the tower steps. “Whose child do you carry, Callestah, Daughter of Ares? Who is your Mother?”

“I carry my Husband’s child, his name is Daniel,” Calla explained while she held on to the groggy man and led the way down the spiraling steps. “Lady Aphrodite was my Mother.”

Achilles let out a snicker. “Yes, she must be. Who else would go against Zeus so blatantly?”

“She loved him, didn’t she?” Calla asked.

Achilles stopped and looked at the young woman helping him. “I don’t know about her love but her lust for him was great.”

Halfway down the great spiraling stairs case and they met the three ladies coming up. “Good Achilles is hungry, I will feed him and then we will take our leave.” Calla told them.

At the bountiful table in the Receiving Room—which was bigger than the throne room—of the castle the Ladies of Avalon entertained Calla and Achilles while all ate, drank and rested. Achilles regained his strength and his bearings while Calla told of the monster her Mother had become. “I’m sure Ares will tell you everything you want once we return to the SGC.”

“And you Ladies?” Achilles asked those seated with them. “Will you not come and aid in this fight?”

“If our assistance is required we will know and we will respond as we see fit,” Morgan told him. “To answer you, no, we will not join you in this fight.”

“Why?”

“It matters not,” Calla spoke up. “They do what they feel is best and so do we. Are you ready, Good Achilles? We must rendezvous with friends nearby.”

End of Chapter Fourteen
The Cradle Will Fall
Continue to
Chapter Fifteen