Kim Possible 1. Chapter 1

RONICUS ET LEO

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney. As for Hannibal, Scipio, Masinissa and the rest, they belong to the ages.

1. Sorrowful Day, Joyous Day

202 B.C.

Carthage

In the Admiral's Tower, the Lion stood alone.

Hannibal watched the fleet making its way to the city. A hundred ships carried an army. _His army. _They moved with the assurance of a maritime race. One had already broken away from its escort, as it had a decade ago. Things had been so different then. He was the terror of Rome. His army was invincible. And she had stood beside him.

In his mind's eye he saw her on the beach in Italy that day, her hand on the silver necklace he had given her. _Did she still wear it? _His thoughts turned to her increasingly now. _She was right; Italy is such a dreary place. Is she still in Egypt? I'll find that out later. I never erred as a General out of pride, why did I do so as a man?_

The lead ship was nearing the naval docks of Carthage. A fleet could issue from them all at once, directed by the Admiral from his post in the Tower. As for now, the Admiral had allowed Hannibal some privacy. His one eye could see the trireme clearly now, only one thing was different from ten years past: the Lion and Palm on the sail was covered by a broad band of sack cloth. The right eye showed no emotion, while tears pressed against the patch covering the ruined left eye.

They were close now, so he took the flight of stairs to the dock. An honor guard awaited him. He nodded as they saluted him with their swords. The ship had banked its oars and slipped into the dock with the same skill it had pulled ashore ten years ago when the gods were Carthaginian.

Men quickly tied the ship off. A gangplank went into position, and men marched down to the dock. Officers from Carthage and chieftains from Gaul and Liguria formed up before the great general. Their leader, Hamilcar the Samnite, stepped forward.

"We have returned, General."

Hannibal nodded. "Carthage thanks you for returning at her hour of need. The enemy is close, sacking our cities, enslaving our citizens, fomenting rebellion. It is time to deal with them. With your veteran warriors, that is now possible."

An officer stepped up behind Hamilcar, handing him an object wrapped in a purple cloak. He handed it to Hannibal; the Lion's face was grim as he beheld the slashing sword.

"Your brother's sword…it required considerable cleaning."

"It will need more cleaning soon." Hannibal replied grimly. "I thank you all again. There will be a briefing tonight after dinner. The guard will take you to your quarters."

The officers saluted before leaving. As they left, Hannibal's gaze returned to the ship. A figure stood at the top of the gang plank. He was huge. The gang plank creaked beneath his step. His eyes were the same deep blue as his tunic and trousers, and his hair matched the black patches of those garments. Hannibal reached to the money purse at his belt; he had dealt with the Govi before.

"Put away your money," the man said, "I do this out of loyalty to Mago. Once I have finished here, I return home in hopes of rallying the people against the coming Roman invasion."

Hegovis spread his arms and brought his hands together. The noise of their meeting was like a distant thunder. They glowed blue and the fire spread up his arms, engulfing his massive body. When he opened his eyes again, they were entirely blue. As he spoke, Hannibal would have sworn he heard his brother's voice.

"**Hannibal, beware of Ronicus."**

Tunis

The men had stood at the docks all morning once the lookout had announced ships on the horizon. They were still too far away to identify. Rome had promised additional reinforcements and supplies, but the Carthaginian navy had rediscovered its courage these past months, once Hannibal had been recalled to defend the city. Instead of aid, this could be a raid, even a counterattack.

"Eagles, sir! They're Roman!"

A cheer went up from the men. Their armor was elaborately decorated, but then they were equestrians. And this was an important day, especially for their leader. His leather cuirass was oiled and polished to perfection. Prominent ears protruded from either side of his plumed helmet. Brown eyes shone with anticipation. He could not keep the smile off of his face, though the comments from his men caused his cheeks to redden.

After an eternity the first ship pulled up to the docks. Grizzled troopers debarked to the cheers of their comrades. They quickly went to the dock where other ships would deliver their horses. The young prefect greeted their commanders, the last of whom gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder.

"We can talk about war later, Ronicus. Right now I think you have other things on your mind."

_Not things. _Ronicus looked up the gang plank at the next passenger. A stately figure stood at the top of the gang plank. Bronze armor glowed in the sun light. The spear rested easily in one hand, while the other supported an owl. His heart skipped a beat or three when he saw the green eye wink.

Somehow Ronicus constrained himself as Kimora walked down the gang plank. The squadron dropped to one knee as the Priestess of Minerva placed her foot on the dock. After she pronounced the goddess' blessings, she turned and handed her owl to her acolyte. The prefect barely had time to rise before she threw herself into his arms.

"Ron!" Her helmet was pushed back on her head and his left his face open to allow the horseman a clear field of vision. The men around them cheered as the kiss went on and on.

Kim's eyes gleamed mischievously as she opened them. "How's that for Patrician propriety?"

"De…de…de…"

A trooper turned to Ronicus' second-in-command. "Hey, Spurius, didn't we see him look like that once?"

"Yes, when Sam stopped to avoid a serpent and Ronicus crashed into a wall."

Ronicus took a deep breath in an effort to regain his dignitas. It did not work. "Kim!" he babbled. "It's great to have you here! What are you doing here? We have a family now and…"

"And we still have a duty to Rome." The auburn haired priestess reminded her husband. "Young Ronicus is under the 'renti's ward and no doubt being spoiled in a most un-republican manner."

"Momus didn't take him?" Worry flashed across his face. "Is she sick?"

"No, she's attending to business in Sicily. Once she gets back, she'll take her grandson for a month and they'll swap out until we get back." She reached into a fold of her chiton. "I've brought someone else as well."

"Ruffio!" Ronicus brightened at the sight of his old friend. He immediately reached out and Kim put the little white mouse in his hands. _Gods, you're so light. _The fur also felt stiff in his hands. But there was no denying the delight in the beady eyes.

"Ave, Prefect."

"So you just couldn't stay away either?" Ronicus laughed.

"Finis coronat opus."

"We have one more passenger." Kim broke into the conversation.

Ronicus followed her hand to the man descending the gang plank. He was short with a stocky build just beginning to thin with age. Short sandy blond hair was bleached by years in the sun, contrasting with the deeply tanned arms. The face never let go of its composure even as he walked down to the deck as quickly as decorum would allow.

"Dadus!" Ronicus gasped. Hurriedly he handed Ruffio back to Kim. The Prefect cried as he embraced his father, whom he had seen only once in the past thirteen years.

"It's all right, son." Falco Stoppabullus patted his son on the back. "I told you it was all a matter of waiting."

"But we had waited so long." Ronicus sniffled. "And when Scipio said that there were larger squadrons to take from the exile legions I was…"

Falco interrupted his son before he could use the word 'afraid'. "Things work out, son. You took Scipio's selections too personally. I knew he'd need more horsemen before he was done."

"I don't understand how you take things like you do." Ronicus wondered.

"Son, some day you'll understand that success and failure are imposters, both the same."

"Stoic." Ruffio squeaked. Falco rubbed the rodent's chin.

Ronicus had an arm around his father, and the other around his wife. His troopers had not seen a grin like this since the great victory of Illipa, when the battle was the last thing Ronicus had on his mind.

"I hope everyone's hungry…we feast tonight!"

SPQR

Scipio's repeated victories in Africa had convinced many farmers and vendors to, if not side with Rome, then to at least be willing to bring their wares in for sale. Ronicus was able to provide a lavish feast for his entire command, all of it purchased with proceeds from his family fortune reviving invention; the pocketus.

While over three hundred troopers enjoyed their commander's generosity in special tents in the city square, a more private party of Ronicus, Kimora, Falco, Ruffio and the Prefect's senior officers went on in an upper room of the former residence of a Carthaginian official. From her couch beside him Kim marveled as Ronicus spoke of the long and brilliant African campaign of the former rival for her affections.

Ronicus took a sip of wine before continuing. "We were beginning to think we'd never be rid of those two. Every time we'd win a battle, Gisgo and Syphax would come up with another army! That last one had four thousand Celtiberians! If those two had waited and trained up their other men, I don't think we'd be here."

"So the Celtiberians are all that?" Kim asked.

"They put the 'fight' in 'fighter'." Ronicus nodded. "Scip was brilliant like always. We hit them with the Hastai like normal, then he had the Principe and Triari move out and attack the levies on the flanks. They caved. The Celtiberians just stood their ground and went down fighting. Guess they don't like to run."

"Scipio and Masinissa aren't the only ones who deserve credit for our victories." Spurius looked at his commander.

"Right, Laelius has done some bene-diggitos work too."

"We aren't talking about Laelius, we mean you." Another officer snorted. "Who did Laelius entrust with the lead elements of his cavalry. If you hadn't brought us up so quickly, Syphax would have finished Masinissa off for certain at Citra."

"That wasn't me that was Sam. A bee stung him."

"It was much more than that." A third officer joined in. "You've trained us like no Roman horsemen have ever been trained before. The enemy actually fears us now."

He raised his cup. "To Ronicus!"

"To Ronicus!" A dozen cups followed in the toast. Kim smiled as her husband blushed.

_Ever the modest man. Manulus is right; your introduction of techniques you learned from the Master has made all the difference in Scip's cavalry. So much of his glory is yours as well._

"Well, I'm just glad we have Spyhax out of the way." Falco said as he watched a servant fill his cup anew. "I was so sure he'd come back over to our side once Scipio landed."

"Scip did too." Ronicus nodded. "We went to see him. Turns out we arrived the same day as Gisgo did with a delegation from Carthage. Talk about awkwierd: Spyhax put those two at the same table!" His eyes lit up as he recalled that strange dinner. "Scip promised Spyhax Rome's eternal friendship, security for his kingdom and centurions to train his infantry like his father had done for him the first time he allied with us."

"What did the Carthaginians offer?" Kim wanted to know.

"Gisgo's daughter Sophinisba."

Falco grinned. "From what I hear, that was some offer. Word of her beauty reached us in Sicily. Was she, as you kids to say, 'all that'?"

"Venus had nothing on her! She was one smoking,…" Ronicus caught Kim's smoldering look and stopped. "I…mean, smoky! Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Smoky and dark in that room. Hard to see anything from the junior officers' table."

Kim burst out laughing. "All right, Blindicus, I had something to give you, but since your eyesight's gotten so bad I guess I'll read it to you myself." She motioned to her acolyte who brought over a scroll bearing her father's seal. After she broke it she sat up to read.

**Ave, Pater.**

**Greetings from your son, Young Ronicus. Each night I pray to the gods for victory for Rome and for your health and safe return. As your son I need you to return home to answer my request.**

**I, Young Ronicus, demand a baby sister. My friend Marcus has one and much prefers her over his elder brother, Little Brickus. Grandfather is transcribing the letter for me and has just informed me that as Mother is taking this message to you in person, that you could make the arrangements while she is there. Please do so at once.**

Ronicus' eyes bulged as he looked at Kim. All around them the other officers roared with laughter. Spurius literally fell off of his couch. Kim was glad she could hold the parchment up high enough to hide the fact that her cheeks were now much redder than her hair.

"Go on." her husband shrugged. "It can't get any worse."

**Grandfather assures me that Mother would be most amenable to my request. So do both Grandmothers. Even Aunt Bonillia thinks that Mother would jump at the opportunity. Actually, I think she said it differently; Nana thought what she said was most amusing. If it is so simple a thing, I do not see why you have not done so already. Please secure me a baby sister at once.**

"You were, saying, Sybil." Kim cleared her throat and continued.

**All here hope for a great victory soon. Now that Italy is ours again and Iberia no longer in the enemy's hands only one thing remains. Father, please defeat Hannibal and come home. I am tired of only seeing you at night. I want to see you in the daylight and to hug you as I did the time you came to visit before the invasion of Africa. Soon I will be old enough to learn how to ride a horse. I want you to teach me how.**

**I send you my love, and please tell Mother I love her too. Now get me that sister!**

**I am your loving and obedient son,**

**Young Ronicus.**

"The young have no respect for their parents!" Manulus joked.

"Little tyrants all of them, that's why we me fight the wars!" Spurius agreed. "Mothers are far better at refusing them. Especially when it is a daughter who's asking."

"You men had better be careful. The Priestesses of Minerva are trained in the arts of war." Falco sided with his daughter-in-law. Spurius and some of the other men from the Iberian campaign nodded to themselves, remembering a certain slightly built, but highly dangerous Masked Warrior of Mystery.

"Perhaps we should call it a night." Ronicus stood. "This party could become more dangerous than the one Syphax threw."

His officers rose to salute their commander before leaving for the tents and wine outside. Soon only Stoppabulli remained in the room.

"I wish you'd told me you were coming, Dadus. It was short notice, but the servants are preparing a room…"

"Son, my place is with my command, especially since they're still serving wine outside. I'll just let myself out." He embraced Kim and then his son. Once he had Ronicus close he whispered. "Besides, your Mother would never forgive me if I interfered with your new mission." Falco gave Kim a knowing smile as she laughed at her blushing husband.

SPQR

Before the message from Rome announcing that the Temple of Minerva was sending one of its most promising young priestesses to help guide the army in its coming trial, the room of Ronicus Stoppabullus had been a model of Republican simplicity. An extra table was there now, carefully chosen for beauty as well as function. The finest brass mirror he could find rested on it. As he waited for Kim to emerge from behind the screen he found his eyes drawn to the most obvious difference; his field cot had been replaced by a proper bed.

"I'm glad you didn't try the old potestas bit when you heard the Temple was sending me." Kim said easily from her sheltered place.

"It was the will of the gods." Ronicus shrugged. "If my service frees me of Dadus' potestas, I don't see how Minerva can't do the same."

He walked over to the third table with its lamp and figurines. Some were in the images of the gods he prayed to. Three were ones he prayed for. Most who saw it mistakenly thought the lovely statuette represented Kim. Actually that was Venus. In the field he used an image of a warrior. One had to look closely to realize it was an Amazon. He picked up the small one beside hers. No one had to ask who it represented.

"So, how long has he known?" Ronicus asked. "About my visits?"

"He says he's always known." Kim's voice took on a child like tone. "'Ever since I was a little kid'. He's really quite clever."

"He gets it from you." Ronicus set the figure down. "I hope we can end this soon. We thought we had it finished, truce and treaty ready to sign, and they recall Hannibal. I was thinking I'd be home by this time, now it's back to wondering if I'll ever see home again."

"You will. I am sure of it." Kim answered with an assurance she did not truly feel. _I doubt Hannibal has forgotten who stole his victory from him all those years ago. No mercy this time, he warned us. _"And with your powers you can see home whenever you like."

"See home, even touch it a little, but I'm not home." He could not keep the frustration out of his voice.

"You were there the day Young Ronicus was born." Kim reminded him in a soft voice. "I would not be here otherwise. And I've felt your arms around me on many a cold night."

"There aren't any cold nights here."

"I know, that's why I've dressed appropriately." Kim stepped out from behind the screen. "The Venus look seemed in keeping with the season."

Ronicus thought he was going to choke upon his heart as she came over. Once she was within reach the rough and ready cavalryman in him took over. He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Booyah." He whispered.

"You know, we have a familial consultum ultum." Kim smiled. "A child is demanded of us."

"Let's not let the little guy down." Ronicus' heart soared as he lifted his wife and gently laid her upon the bed.

Notes

**Finis coronat opus…**Completion crowns the work. A saying of Ovid that King in Yellow was so good to remind me of when I was just starting out 'Ronicus ad Porta."

**The Amazing Back and Forth Syphax…**All of that part was true! Scipio's father had convinced the Numidian king to defect, sending a centurion to train his infantry. They got so good that Hasdrubal Barca was recalled to defeat the rebellion, which he did with the help of a young Numidian noble named Masinissa. Syphax reconciled himself with Carthage, and later was wooed by Scipio and Gisgo at the same time. Allegedly he made them sit on the same couch at one point. All sources claim that Gisgo's daughter tipped the scales in Carthage's favor. Unfortunately for the Numidian king, Scipio got Masinissa, and Masinissa was able to defeat Syphax with considerable help from Rome.

**Success and Failure as imposters…**I'm sure most of you have read at least some Kipling. That comes from 'If'.

Dadus' Potestas...While most people know (or assume) that Roman fathers exerted great social power over their daughters, I doubt many know that sons were also under their fathers' thumbs. While Caius gave his potestas to Ronicus, Ronicus was free from his father's authority only when serving the state (either in the military or in public office) and this would continue until his father died. That's right, died. It was a uniquely complete level of authority, but please understand that Roman society did everything possible to keep it from getting out of hand. So much so that Roman men scandalized Greeks by actually taking their wive's opiniions seriously.

**Familias consultum ultum…**No such thing, but there was a Senatus Consultum Ultum, where the Senate charged you with a mission and pretty much gave you the authority to do it. Everyone's pulling for those kids.


	2. Hands of Fate

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: screaming phoenix, Shrike176, CajunBear73, Guns Knives and Napalm, bigherb81, Katsumara, King in Yellow, RSfan, Sentinel103, and MrDrP. You've been too kind to this shirker.

Chapter 2: The Hands of Fate

The Massaesylli Kingdom of Numidia

The patrol took up its positions at dawn. Fifteen swarthy men sat astride small, rangy ponies. They boasted long javelins, large shields and an air of invincibility. Indeed, throughout the war victory had hinged upon where their loyalties lay and for now they lay with Rome. Now they secured the borders of the new King of Numidia while he pondered his next move.

Some would have chafed at this duty but these men took to it readily. Divided loyalties still wracked Numidia. Syphax still had many supporters who needed to be confronted, defeated and despoiled. Jugurtha and his band performed the last duty with particular alacrity. True, from time to time their victims had been supporters of Masinissa, but then one of the tragedies of civil war is the confusion engendered.

Whoever was coming in the wagon was certainly not Numidian. Jugurtha smiled: one mounted escort and another man urging on a team of magnificent horses. A merchant perhaps? Then he could afford the toll.

Hand signals alerted the men. He waited until the wagon entered the proper area and then let his hand drop. The wagon pulled to a halt as fifteen riders surrounded it. The patrol's posture was intimidating but not openly hostile.

Jugurtha took his cue. "Greetings, traveler." He called to the rider as he approached. "Welcome to Massaesylli of the Numidians."

Dark eyes glinted in the scarred face of the horseman. Even with no battle imminent he wore blue face paint. The right hand rested on the sword hilt at his side. His silvered mail was as splendid as the golden torques around his neck and wrists. The enormous man on the wagon had equally valuable jewelry but no armor aside for a horned helmet decorated with gold.

The Numidian was now beside the horseman. "State your name and destination."

"I am Drakkus Maximus of Gaul." He replied haughtily.

"And I'm his cuz, Eddorix. Pleased to meet you. Yea, verily." The large man on the wagon shouted.

"Eddorix, I'm being impressive here." Drakkus snapped.

"Then maybe you should check your teeth after breakfast. You've got something wedged in those pearly whites. Yea, verily."

The dark haired Gaul rubbed his tongue over his teeth. "Oh, snappeth! Excuse me, sir." In a moment he turned back to Jugurtha. "What was the second question again?"

The Numidian found the Gallic antics annoying in the extreme. "Idiot! Your destination, tell me now!"

An enigmatic smile creased the blue face. "You must take that up with my Mistress."

The Gaul's charger backed up clearing the way to the wagon. A green and black curtain drew back as Jugurtha came near.

Sparkling green eyes met his without flinching. Her face was perfect. Her deep black hair was perfect. So were the rings on her fingers, the bracelets on her arms, and the silver around her pale, perfect throat. He pushed down his desire to grasp the jewelry and its wearer and asked his questions again.

"What is your name?"

Her voice was even more seductive than he had imagined. "Shegovia of Liguria."

"And your destination?"

"Cirta. I have business there."

Jugurtha licked his suddenly dry lips before asking the third and fateful question. Already he knew that whatever answer she gave would be the wrong one. "Who do you support as King of Numidia, Masinissa or Syphax?"

She did not hesitate. "Syphax."

_Soon you will be calling out my name. _"Then I arrest you in the name of the rightful King of Numidia, Masinissa! Your property, your servants, and your body are all forfeit."

His hand shot out to grab her when pain lanced through his arm. Five black marks smoldered on his wrist. Green fire flickered from the woman's hand.

"Witch!"

Jugurtha pulled a javelin out of its quiver and thrust it at the snarling woman. Before the spearhead could pierce her chest a sword sheared through the shaft. He turned just in time to see Drakkus' left fist come across his face and spill him from his saddle.

A pair of riders shouted and started for the window on the other side of the wagon. Eddorix toppled them both from their horses with a single swipe of his club. His eyes gleamed with battle lust as he brought up a shield to catch the javelins coming at him.

Angry but still confident Jugurtha stood up to give his orders.

"No—Haw!"

Panic gripped him as he doubled over. At first he thought he was going to be sick, but then he realized it was not nausea pulling him to the ground. His bones and muscles were changing. Fingers drew into his palms while the nails thickened, darkened and grew. All at once his nose blocked his view.

Twelve mounted Numidians turned to flee. Terror overtook them in the form of a keening note and a flash of green. Fifteen men now writhed and changed. Screams died away quickly and the braying began.

Gravel crunched under a black boot followed by a green one. Shegovia, Witch of Liguria, climbed out of her wagon and tossed a set of ropes to each Gaul. "I want them all."

The beasts that had been men were too disoriented to fight or flee. Drakkus Maximus soon tethered them in a long line. Eddorix's skills enabled him to gather the skittish horses. Shegoiva walked down Drakkus' line until she reached Jugurtha. Soft fingers ran along the rough fur of his nose.

"Fifteen horses and fifteen asses." Shegovia walked alongside Jugurtha, her hand sliding neck, shoulder and flank. Drakkus took hold of Jugurtha's head when Shegovia stopped. Her left hand pulled back as her glowing right hand came down. The last fading remnants of the Numidian's humanity crumbled under the pain.

"What's the matter?" the Ligurian taunted. "You couldn't wait to get your hot hands on my rump!"

Drakkus gave the branded beast a dried date. Fourteen more times he held a furry head and fourteen more times the hand flashed green. More dried dates were chewed. She was much gentler with the horses. When all were branded she put her hands on her hips and grinned.

"We should turn a nice profit at the next village or camp. Speaking of camps, let's find theirs. Bet there's some good loot in their tents."

The eyes she looked into held no more intelligence than any other donkey. She curled her lip in amusement. "Just be glad I didn't make you a sheep or a goat…or a pig."

Tunis

Green eyes greeted Ronicus as he awoke. He pulled Kimora close for a gentle kiss.

"Good morning." The coo in her voice sent chills down his spine.

"Right back at ya." He brought his other hand up, resting it on the small of her back. "Man, I wish we could stay here all day but I have to post the guard and watch over morning exercises."

"The dawn is a little while away." Kim rolled him over to where he was on top of her. "We have time for a maneuver of our own."

All too soon Ronicus was on his feet washing his face. He breathed in deeply, gathering as much of her scent in as possible before applying the sponge to the rest of his body.

Kim lay on the bed watching him appreciatively. "I'll get up in a minute. The midwives told me to do this after each time. We have all sorts of help: Mother goes to the Temple of Juno each day to pray for our success."

_Juno, Good Mother, don't leave me barren! _The plaintive prayer of five years ago echoed in his mind. Ronicus dressed swiftly to hide his face. He had never told Kim that he had heard her that night, begging the goddess for a child. She was even prepared to be sent away as a failed wife. _As if she could ever fail._

"Never fear, KP, we'll fulfill the FCU. We're Roman; we're all about prayer and follow-through." He walked over and kissed her. It took their combined discipline to keep him focused on his duties.

She sighed. "I'll see you after morning prayers."

"And then we'll ride for Scipio's camp." Ronicus put on his helmet. "It's two days ride. I've been looking forward to trying out the new pallet I bought. Cot's too small."

Someone was waiting for him out in the hallway. Spurius stood at attention, his open palms at chest level. A little white mouse with a crested helmet, red cloak and decorations stared steadily at him.

Ronicus nodded at Spurius. "Morning, decurio." He then saluted Ruffio. "Ave, Proconsul."

"Tempus fugit."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir." The Prefect reached into the pouch at his side to produce a small wedge of cheese. "Am I forgiven, Proconsul?"

Ruffio smiled. "Quid pro quo."

Ronicus smiled at the speed with which Ruffio snatched the bribe. The smile faltered a touch when Ruffio carefully ate the cheese he once would have bolted. When the mouse opened his eyes he saw the first enormous grin.

"We're ready to begin, sir." Spurius handed Ruffio over to Ronicus. The little white mouse settled into a fold of Ronicus' cloak.

"Ready?" Ronicus asked. The tiny crest bobbed and the Prefect closed his eyes shut and began walking. In moments he was down the hallways, down the steps and crossing the courtyard dodging statues and benches with ease.

Spurius was awed. "It never ceases to amaze me how you do that, sir."

"Do what?" Ronicus almost ran into a column in his surprise. He opened his eyes before facing Spurius.

"Walking with your eyes closed. You've been doing that since before Nova Carthago."

_So much for stealth. _"You saw my eyes closed?"

"No, sir. I saw you fall into that latrine trench the men were digging. After that I watched you and noticed the eyes. Very subtle, sir. I'm glad you never instituted that into our training regimen. The camp had too many latrines."

"Thank Fortuna that one was not yet in use." Ronicus closed his eyes again as they made their way to the camp and the waiting officers.

The Sahara

"Thank you, Master." The shaman lifted his after bowing in gratitude.

"You are welcome." The old man replied from his seated position. "May you now gain much from giving much."

"Yes, I will. I shall send you new students."

"That will not be necessary. I am leaving this place. Go now, teach and learn."

After bowing again the shaman took his leave. The Master looked up at the palms outside of his cave. Great statues stood guard on either side of the entrance, weathered by many centuries of wind and sun. He had felt led to this oasis. Indeed, they had found it against all expectations. The People of the Sand Sea had long come here to ponder the questions of life. And once the Master and his remaining pupils had driven off the bandits who had befouled the place for decades the people had returned to rest, to think and to learn.

_And it has been my honor to teach. But life goes ever on. _"Hirotaka-san."

The handsome young man appeared as if he had fallen from the sky. He touched his forehead to the ground. "Yes, Master?"

"Fill the water skins. We leave tonight."

"It is time?"

The white head nodded gravely. "Yes. The Hands of Fate bring all together. Lovers and enemies, those who will be remembered forever and those soon to be forgotten, Champion and Challenger; all will meet for perhaps the last time."

"What does the future hold?" Hirotaka asked.

"I wish I knew." The Master sighed. "We could make a great pile of gold then."

His senior student allowed himself a short laugh before leaving. After Hirotaka left the Master lifted the lid to an earthenware jar that was always with him. He removed the pair of cedar boards bound by a silken cord that lay inside. Carefully he undid the cord and lifted one board to reveal what lay between the pieces of wood.

Enshrouded by silk was a flower, dried and pressed years before. Its outer petals were a deep blue surrounding a ring of violet inner petals. There were rarer and more unusual blossoms in the Emperor's gardens, but none were more beautiful than this one. The Champion had given it to her and she had chosen it for preservation in memory of her love. As with all things she had done, it was done perfectly. Dried and pressed, the delicate blossom could now outlast centuries with the proper care. Yamanouchi Mushashi vowed his school would give it that care.

"Forgive me." He whispered. "Again I fail you. I could not protect you from the cruelty of the world, the scorn of your classmates, the treachery of Lord Elefist, or your death.

"And now I cannot even honor your memory by hoping for justice. When I think of Elefist, all that I desire is vengeance."

The word pleased him. He repeated it. "Vengeance, vengeance."

Tunis

Kim checked her baggage one last time. _Good thing I'm patrician and a priestess. Everyone expects me to over pack. _She gave special attention to the bundle that made a metallic sound when jostled. The uninformed believed it was a backup set of armor for her priestly functions. But this was an entire panoply: helmet, cuirass, greaves and vambraces. Her priestly armor was light; this set was fully battle ready. By the dents and scratches any soldier could also tell this armor had been battle tested. Extensive repair work on the right abdomen showed where it had once been found wanting.

"You may have your chance at redemption." Kim patted the cuirass through the canvas. "The Lion's at bay and the Masked Warrior of Mystery is here if needed to help her BBFH."

The H still thrilled her. Her friend Bonillia would laugh at her expression when she would talk about Ronicus. "Of course you're still crazy about him, K. In six years of marriage you've not spent half of it together. The long and the short of it is, absence makes the heart grow fonder."

She remembered arching her eyebrow as she responded. "The short is not what I long for."

Their laughter had been decidedly lacking in patrician decorum. The following comparison of husbands was less proper still.

Her smile widened as she picked up the figurine of Ronicus from its place at the shrine. _Will they ever make a helmet that can cover those ears? _Her statuette here was, like the one in Rome, finely detailed and of the choicest material. So was the one of the little boy who stood to the left of her figurine.

One last statuette stood behind the family. An artist had listened very closely to his patron's description to capture the alien features, the grace and the serenity. Jealousy flickered at how keenly Ronicus still saw Yori in his mind. Ill spirits cooled as she recalled what a philosopher in Nova Carthago had said. _The images of the living waver in our minds like the ripples on the water but our visions of the dead are encased in amber_.

"You were my friend, too." Her voice was soft as she touched Yori's simulacrum. "And if I must share Ron's heart with anyone, I'm glad it's you. He still thinks about you, I know. His expression is so tender, until it hardens into a look worthy of Nemesis herself."

Before the knock she turned to the door. "Come in, Dorcas."

"Forgive me, Mistress." Her acolyte apologized as she entered the room. "I did not mean to disturb you."

"You were as silent as an owl's wings. A servant carrying a tray stood aside for you."

"Your hearing is amazing, Mistress."

Kim smiled at the compliment. "When you push back your helmet…"

"Be sure to uncover your ears as well as your eyes." Dorcas smiled. "Mystery dee eye ex."

The recitation drew a nod of approval. "Very good. Now, what's the sitch?"

"All patrols report no enemy is within sight! Your husband returns even now. I trust you are ready to go."

"So ready. It's been a few years since I've been with an army on the march. Maybe this time this will be the last time. Someday it will be your turn as priestess."

"Do you really think so?" The girl asked excitedly.

"I know so." Kim answered. "You are the finest acolyte in your class; otherwise they would have sent another with me."

"You're flattering me, Mistress."

"Minerva does not flatter, neither do her priestesses. If I say you're the best, then you're the best."

"And it doesn't do to argue with my Kimora. Just ask Hannibal." Ronicus stepped into the room and went to his wife. "She'll just come after you if you do."

"I didn't go after Hannibal, I was coming for you." She traced the line of his jaw. "Beloved."

His eyes sparkled after the kiss. "All I have to pack is the shrine." The two women folded their hands and bowed their heads as Ronicus said a silent prayer to the household gods. Hands lingered on each of the figurines representing his family. Kim could read his mind as he held the statuette of Yori. _Soon, I swear it._

"There, that's that. Well, almost." He gave Kim a lopsided grin. "This is the march to Scipio's camp, and the big one. It would mean a lot to the Men of the Golden Mouse if they had…had the Masked Warrior with them."

"Ron," she reproved, "the Men of the Golden Mouse know who the Masked Warrior is, so do some of the others I'm sure. But most have no idea. Everyone knows the priestess of Minerva accompanies you. How do you explain my absence?"

"Got it covered, KP. There's a wagon for the two of you and 'you' will be in it."

"What do you have? A Greek actor?"

"Better, an officer who lost a bet KP, get ready for a blast from the past." Ronicus turned to the door. "All right, come on in."

A man about Ronicus' height walked in with a slightly dejected air. He carried a Corinthian helmet with the same markings and crest as Kim's priestly one. Their heads were not the same size. The man gave her an embarrassed smile. "Hi, Kimora."

"Ronicus Regarus, it's a long way from Lucius Quinctius Cincinatus High School. What bet did you lose?"

"It wasn't a single bet, I was cleared out!" the old school mate grumbled. "Those dice were loaded, I swear."

A small head popped up from Ronicus' cloak. Ruffio spun the die at the end of his paw. "Fortuna mea in bello campo."

"I still say no one could make that many throws. Do you know what the odds were, and just when I had won so much!"

Ruffio gave him a wise look. "Fortuna vitrea ets; tum cum splendet frangitur."

"Yes, yes, let's get this over with." Ronicus Regarus shrugged. "Where's the outfit?"

"The cover is you're giving a blessing before we leave." Ronicus could not keep the glow from his eyes. "The men will take the Masked Warrior as proof of Minerva's support."

Kim could not keep the amusement out of her voice. "I wasn't expecting a ceremony. The gear is in this bag. You can take it into the other room while I put on mine."

Now Regarus blushed as red as his hair. "I also need…a dress."

Her expression was part amused, part vexed as Kim turned to her husband. "You will so owe me another one."

SPQR

Three hundred troopers waited at the gates of Tunis. They bowed their heads as the wife of the Prefect Ronicus raised her spear in blessing. They laughed when the pair on the walls bumped helmets after she forgot to raise hers as he bent down to kiss her. She gave him a playful(?) swat with her shield before climbing down to the wagon.

The rear files of the cavalry turned to begin the march. After they took their positions the baggage train emerged from the city, the other ranks waited for them to exit before falling in. Everyone expected their Prefect to ride behind a certain wagon, as was proper. Soon the wagon passed by and Ronicus followed.

Eyes widened at the figure beside him. A rider with a Eutro-Corinthian helmet, cuirass, greaves and vambraces all of gleaming bronze. The helmet was down, fully obscuring the face but the Men of the Golden Mouse smiled at the glowing green eyes. The crest of the helmet matched the magenta saddle and blanket on the beautiful mare the warrior rode. Legionnaires around those riders could not contain themselves.

"The Masked Warrior of Mystery returns! Victory for Rome!"

Notes

**Tempus fugit…**Time flies. Mice aren't known for patience.

**Quid pro quo…**This for that. Hey, since when could Ronicus not bribe this guy?

**Fortuna mea in bello campo…**Fortune was mine in a fair fight. In other words, I won fair and square. Don't go up against the Maximus Mus.

**Fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur…**Fortune is glass, just when it gleams brightest it shatters. Little guy's feeling kind of philosophical today.


	3. The Powerof Desire

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: BlueEyedBrigadier, MrDrP, screaming phoenix, CajunBear73, Katsumara, Shrike176, bigherb81, King in Yellow and all the readers.

Chapter 3: The Power of Desire

Blaring horns announced the end of another day at Cirta, capitol of the newly united kingdom of Numidia. Guards began their task of shutting the gates prior to collecting their day's pay and going home or hitting the taverns and pleasure pits. They also levied tolls on the last few wagons entering the city before sunset.

The Captain of the Night Watch took his post for the evening. Camp fires dotted the ground before the western wall. People felt safe again now that Masinissa was in full control of the area. Merchants no longer pushed themselves and their teams to reach the gates before sundown. No more were bribes offered to the guard to keep them open just a little while longer. Some missed those profitable days but not he. He had made his money; now he hoped to live to spend it.

A lone wagon caught his eye. Most merchants camped in groups, for company and protection. Even with things settling down there were always thieves and raiders. This person was either reckless or very disagreeable. The Captain watched the two guards at the fire.

"Their risk, not mine." He said as he began his first circuit of the city walls.

A figure stepped out of the lone wagon to join its guards. Her black hair, pale skin and glittering green eyes matched the mood of the moonless night. She shifted a pack at her side and looked to the Gauls.

"I've got everything I need. I'll be back before dawn. Everything had better be all right when I get back."

A man with spiky black hair, blue face paint and a scar bridled at her tone. "When has it ever been otherwise?" Drakkus Maximus asked.

"Yeah." the man's partner, an enormous blond warrior with a horned helmet and fierce mustache nodded. "We've always taken care of Green's stuff, yea, verily."

"Look, I'm just saying I'll be gone for a while." The Ligurian snapped. "Be careful."

"Don't worry; we're one big evil family. We'll take care of things here." Drakkus drew his sword for emphasis.

"See you around dawn." Shegovia turned and began to walk down a small rise away from Cirta. The familiar green glow started at her hands and enveloped her body. Darkness returned and a lioness padded around the small rise and reversed her course.

"Oh, man! Green casts a spell on me every time she does that!" Eddorix hooted. "That's one serious babe, yea, verily."

Drakkus snorted. "You're still carrying a torch for her? That explains all those baths."

"If you want action at your stall, you've got to show your wares. Yea, verily."

"You better hope those lioness' ears didn't pick that up or you'll get some action from those claws!"

Eddorix held his arms out. "Hey, all I'm saying is, with this around, she'll forget sooner or later. Yea, verily."

"Cousin, you're a fool." Drakkus shook his head. "There goes Hannibal's second greatest victory…the other one he let slip through his fingers."

SPQR

The great green eyed lioness moved silently toward Cirta. A city? Bah! Compared to Alexandria, Antioch, even Rome it was a hovel. Still, the surest route to her prize lay through Cirta or, more exactly, through a certain area outside its walls, an area off limits to people, but haunted by any number of animals including lions.

A purr rumbled from her throat as she reveled in the power and grace of her leonine form. He had been in Carthage when they had passed by the city. She had thought of entering his camp as a black cat with green eyes. The Lion had always welcomed cats in his camp: they kept rodents away from the grain and it made such a statement given the Romans' fondness for pet mice. In her fantasy she would lie purring in his lap after he had finished with the day's duties. She would wait until he moved to put her down and then the purring would stop and the female in his lap would no longer be feline.

Shegovia closed her eyes as she remembered their last night together. After kissing at the table he had lifted her and carried her to their bed. Her body remembered his muscles pressed against it. _The only thing soft about him was his heart. _When they were spent he held her in his arms until his aides came for him before dawn. He had whispered something in her ear as he pulled away. She had been half asleep and did not hear…

The lioness stopped in her tracks. Her head pulled back. A mournful cry carried to the city walls, chilling all who heard it. The creatures of the night retreated from that sound, their every instinct telling them that swift death would come to any who crossed the path of the thing that cried like a lion yet hurt like a woman.

_He loved me! Why didn't I see that? Why didn't I hear him? Pride. The same stupid pride that let me walk away from him!_

She remembered his graciousness and generosity that last day. _He hid his feelings well. What did you expect? A general's like any man only more so. There's no way he would have risked me saying 'no' in front of his men, so he just let me go._

And being like any woman only more so, she had left without a backward glance. She took the wagon, the silver, the Gauls, only later realizing that she had left her heart with the Carthaginian. All her efforts to fill that void had failed.

Antiochus Selecus certainly did not distract her. She quarreled with the brave, ambitious and headstrong fool and left Antioch within a few months. After Antioch she spent a memorable winter in Ephesus. Since then Egypt had become home. She divided her time between the broad bright avenues of Alexandria and the shadowed halls of Karnack. Those dark places offered wisdom not found at Ptolemy's Great Library. In moments she would put that wisdom to the test.

Feline eyes could see far better in the moonless night than any human orbs. The Numidians used Punic characters so she could tell by the inscription that she was at the right place. The warding was nothing: a pronouncement only made serious by the steel backing it. Claws made short work of the seal around the door and another transformation gave her access. Then she changed form once more.

Human again, she stood up in the room and took what she needed from her pack. Candles flickered shortly, providing the light needed for the tracing of symbols and circles. Sounds which may or may not have been words followed as she called across the darkness. For a moment the darkness deepened, threatening to overwhelm the candles and even the green glow of her hands. Only her iron nerves kept the night at bay.

"Are we done?" Shegovia asked mockingly. "Good. Now, if you'll forgive the intrusion." She moved quickly, not wanting to touch things a moment longer than absolutely necessary. When done she threw the object of her search into a corner and wiped her hands on a rag she pulled from her pouch.

"All better." Her voice was sing-song. "Well, not really, but definitely better than you were a minute ago. Why don't you sit up and take that old veil off, it really doesn't do a thing for you."

The Ligurian looked pleased with her work. "Before you ask me I'll tell you. I need your help. What, no? How about if I put it this way: your city needs you again. If you help me, you'll be getting back at Scipio, plus you'll be spending some quality time with your Masinissa. There, I knew you could be reasonable. It's been nice talking with you, but it's almost dawn and I need to get back before the help burns the wagon."

Shegovia retreated, taking care not to turn her back. When her back touched the door she transformed quickly and slipped away. In moments the lioness made her way back toward the wagon. A guard on the wall assumed the great cat was going home after a successful hunt.

SPQR

The Roman camp had just begun to stir in the predawn. Troopers packed up their tents and tended to their horses, which always ate first. Those near the command tent could see their Prefect grooming his large black charger. Few paid that any mind. Ronicus insisted on caring for his own horse, and Sam was notoriously insistent on having his master handle the brush.

What was unusual was the second horse and handler. Even now he was in full regalia, bronze armor gleaming and helmet pulled down. Men found any excuse to slip past so that they could see the figure, already a legend among the people of Rome.

"The Masked Warrior of Mystery. I remember when he and Ronicus saved the city from Hannibal and his infernal machine."

"Aye, I was still too young to serve then. And now he's here!"

"A good thing, my son turns seven this year. I'd like this war to end before he's enlisted."

The two soldiers hurried on when the masked face glanced their way.

Kim shook her head in amusement. "That makes twenty by my count. Maybe I should just walk through the camp and let everyone get a good look."

"Nah, someone would pay too close attention to those badicus flanks." Ronicus failed to duck the brush. "Glad to see you aim is as sharp as always. We're gonna need it." Sam snickered as Ronicus rubbed his head. "They've got Hannibal now, they're playing for keeps."

"That's why I'm here." The Masked Warrior went over to pick up her brush. She made the mistake of bending over rather than kneeling. Suddenly there was darkness and a swat to her rear. Arms encircled her as she turned. Her helmet was pushed back and Ronicus was kissing her.

"Never forget what your Nana told you about flanks, especially around an equestrian." His smile gave her shivers of the good kind.

"Why Ronicus Stoppabullus, that was positively Hannibalic." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss. He gasped when her hands went to his hips, promising to slip up under his tunic. Suddenly she shifted her hip and threw him through the closed tent flap. When he stopped rolling she was standing at the opening with her helmet pulled down.

"So was that. Why don't you see to your lovely wife while I finish with the horses?"

The shadow behind him made him swallow his answer. Spurius smirked in the predawn. A small figure on the man's shoulder made no effort to hide his amusement.

"Ah, amantium irae." Ruffio squeaked.

"Just a little predawn…training. And what's wrong with fighting if you make up afterwards?" Ronicus sighed. "I love the way she makes up."

Spurius helped his commander dust off. "I'm amazed at the little device in the helmet. The voice is so different."

"Hey, Wadeamedes is a genius. Is everybody ready?"

"Yes, Prefect. The 'priestess' has already read the portents for the day and we should make it to Scipio's camp by mid afternoon."

"One more performance for Regarus." Ronicus reached out his arm and Ruffio ran along it to settle in the fold of his cloak. "Good thing you're so good with the dice, Ruffio."

"Per gratia Fortuna." His old friend shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you need to chip in for the Temple now. I've lined up the quarry and the sculptors. Once the war's over we can really get to work." The flap to the tent reopened and the Masked Warrior emerged with two horses fully saddled. Aides rushed to take down the tent. Kim let her hand linger as Ronicus took Sam's reins.

"Wadeamedes is at Scip's camp?" Kim asked as they led their horses to the waiting soldiers.

"He's working on a couple of ideas for the coming fight…and a trading concession or two. It'll be all of Team Warrior in one place again!" The smile changed, becoming more wistful. His voice grew husky. "I've missed you, KP."

"Hey!" a little voice squeaked in his ear.

"You too, Ruffio."

"Ditto." The little white mouse pulled his helmet from its hiding place in the cloak and assumed a commanding air. Kim and Ronicus grinned.

Soldiers cheered as the Masked Warrior of Mystery walked through the ranks alongside their Prefect. Ronicus jumped into his saddle and gave the performance of his life as he rode up to a waiting wagon and appeared to lean into the window for what the men assumed was a kiss. From the way Dorcas was laughing inside the wagon Kim knew Regarus had been anything but affectionate.

Ronicus blinked to clear his eyes and mind. The men were mounted up. He raised his arm and gave out the war cry. Three hundred men bellowed along with him.

"BOOYAH!"

Kim's eyes sparkled behind her mask as her husband rode easily to the front of the line. She came up beside him as he barked out the order of the day.

"We ride to Scipio, and victory!"

Carthage

At dawn the city gates opened to a literally barbaric spectacle. Five thousand men and a sprinkling of women marched out. A group of Carthaginian officers headed the procession, and at the very front rode a one-eyed man whose presence had revived the flagging spirit of his city, a city he had not seen since he was a boy.

"Melquart guide you, Hannibal!"

The corner of the Lion's mouth twisted at the blessing. _Perhaps I've become too Greek from living in southern Italy for so long. I hope I never set foot in that temple again. _Most of his other officers had shown no signs of revulsion, nor had many of the Gauls present; their religion was accustomed to such sacrifices in times of war.

The Ligurians were another matter. Their leaders had attended as expected, and had barely concealed their disgust. One man's emotions went beyond contempt, flaring into anger. His giant form made him most impressive as he rode beside the Lion.

"And they call your people civilized!" Hegovis did not care about the glares he received from other Carthaginians as he talked to Hannibal. "I was with Mago for a year and he never sacrificed anything but lambs."

"One can do that if they desire. They do so in Tyre the Mother City." Hannibal replied. "I do not know why my people choose to honor the old ways. After Cannae the Romans buried two couples alive in sacrifice, two Gauls and two Greeks. Apparently the veneer of civilization is rather thin."

"No good will come of this." The man's blue eyes flashed.

"Do the gods ever listen? Men do not win battles because of their favor, nor for such fine reasons as fighting for home and hearth, kith and kin. They win because there are more of them or they have better equipment or training or because their general is better." Hannibal shook his head. "And I have not one army, but three, and no time to train it to work together as the Romans do."

"I think you underestimate the importance of desire in battle." Hegovis countered. "We thirst to avenge the death of your brother, and to secure our homes from Roman invasion."

"And the Romans desire vengeance for a dozen defeats at my hands. And they also wish to prevent me from returning to Italy with another army." He looked away to the south. "Once we reach Hardrumetum you'll see what we're working with. Then you can decide on how far desire will take us."

The massive warrior was pensive. "The Govi know the power of desire. From what I've heard, you know that about us."

"Are you asking what my intentions were?" Hannibal smiled. "I'm sure Mago told you everything."

"Nothing I could not have guessed. Shegovia never was one to keep her feelings hidden." He sighed. "Liguria just could not keep her interest."

"Neither could Italy. She found it a dreary place. Or perhaps it was me."

"Mago said you discarded her advice. That would have been enough to drive away the sister I knew." The blue eyes were sad. "It has been twelve years since we've seen her. The last we heard she was in Egypt. Do you know any more?"

"No. She has never written. She is as lost to me as she is to you." They fell silent. As they rode the brilliant mind so feared by Rome considered something other than war.

_She is lost to me. But what was lost can always be found again. _

SPQR

Things went even better than hoped for. By mid morning they encountered the outermost patrols. Before the sun reached its zenith they could see a troop riding towards them.

"Some of Scip's Praetorians." Ronicus nodded at the coming men. "We'll tent in the main camp tonight. Good thing most of the army thinks you're sent by the gods, they don't expect you to pitch a tent." A leer touched his voice. "But they do expect to see Kimora in my tent."

"They do, huh?" Her brow arched in amusement. "Didn't know I had fans."

"Are you kidding, KP? You're a legend in this army! The beauty of Venus, the loyalty of Juno, the courage of Mars and the wisdom of Minerva all in one bene-diggitos package! When they heard you were coming there was an impromptu celebration."

Kim blushed behind her mask. "All I did was stand by my Ron, it was no big."

"By defying priests, your general and a god! They sing songs about you." He took her hand not caring that anyone could see.

"Glory is fleeting, Kim. Love is eternal."

Her eyes glowed. "Ronicus, beloved, tonight's paean will be to Venus."

"Booyah."

For most of the march they had ridden beside the wagon containing Regarus and Dorcas. Now that they were entering the camp they headed the column. The honor guard lined the way and idle soldiers stood behind their ranks and cheered. The Masked Warrior of Mystery waved to the admiring men. She could not help the thrill she got from the adulation. Despite dignitas and gravitas all Romans hungered for gloria and fama. So far the Republic had been able to channel that drive to serve the greater good.

_No wonder kings begin to think of themselves as gods._

The command staff and wagon entered the enclosed area in the center of the massive camp. Officers and Praetorians snapped to attention as Ronicus, the Masked Warrior and company dismounted. They saluted the man who emerged from the command tent.

Publius Cornelius Scipio returned their salute. A smile crossed the handsome square-jawed face, reaching all the way to his smoky brown eyes. The rigors of campaigning agreed with him; his tanned body bespoke of strength and stamina. In every way he was a man in his prime.

"Still think he's hot?" Ronicus teased Kim as they walked forward.

"He may be hot, but remember I melt in your arms."

Ronicus did not feel the ground beneath his feet as they stopped.

"Ave, Scipio!" They saluted.

"Greetings, Ronicus, Masked Warrior and Ruffio."

The old mouse peeked out of his fold in Ronicus' cloak and saluted. "Ave!"

Scipio grinned and nodded before looking back to Ronicus. "I, of course, look forward to greeting your lovely wife." The playful glance to Kim was subtle.

"And I also greet your father." He clasped the man's arm. "Falco Stoppabullus, my father bitterly protested your exile; an exile that by any right I should have shared with you."

"What's done is done. We have both served Rome." Falco replied easily. "We only do our duty."

"Agreed." Scipio approved. "Now, if you would all come inside for the briefing, I have my officers, my spy master, and my priestess. Time to finalize our plans."

Kim walked in as slowly as she could, looking for a figure in the shadows. Her eyes widened when she saw him. The dusky, pudgy lad was now a strongly built young man. His hug could be felt through her bronze cuirass. "Warrior!" he shouted. "Kimora." He whispered. "Good to see you again."

"Wadeamedes!" Kim hugged her friend back. "We've missed you in Italy…"

Scipio called for everyone's attention. "My Praetorians are in place. Everyone here either knows or can be trusted with your secret. Warrior, it is too difficult to see in this tent with that helmet down."

Years of caution made Kimora reluctant to remove her helmet. Only a large hand on her shoulder belonging to a blond man with prominent ears and warm brown eyes put her at ease enough to do so. Despite the foreknowledge some men still gasped. Scipio gestured.

"Romans and Latins, I present Kimora Possibilis, daughter of Senator Caius and the Priestess Olivia, wife of our own Ronicus Stoppabullus and mother of his son, Young Ronicus, Priestess of Minerva and the Masked Warrior of Mystery."

"And don't forget Big Sister and Bathroom Hog."

The voices snapped Kim out of her embarrassment. A pair of men smashed into her before she could hiss the word, so she laughed it out instead. "Dweebini! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Sardinia?"

"We were." Answered Jimulus, his blue eyes shining. "It's secure."

"And boring." Temus joined in. "Wadeamedes needs help in the coming fight, so we're here."

Kim's breath caught as she looked at the brothers who had once tormented her. They were no longer the small mischievous brats but two tall strong youths with their father's hair and complexion and their mother's eyes.

_Mother, Father, all of your children are here. All of us facing the Lion. You could lose all of us! How did you find the strength, the faith, to let me come?_

"What's she doing?" Temus asked his brother.

"Trying to think. Can't you hear the wheels turning and breaking?" Jimulus snorted. He squawked when Kim grabbed him and his brother in her arms and pressed them against her.

"Ack! How long were you on that horse?" They gagged.

"Long enough, Dweebini." The men around them laughed when Kim released her brothers.

"Since we need no stretcher bearers for the family reunion, can we start?" Scipio asked jovially. "Everyone must be ready, now that we are at last ready for the final campaign."

The assembly grew quiet now as aides removed the cover to a map Scipio had hanging in the room. "Our campaign against the satellites of Carthage has finally achieved its objective; the Carthaginian Senate has all but ordered Hannibal to move against us. The final battle will be joined!"

Men nodded to each other approvingly. Ronicus and his father looked grim. Kim tried to hide her concern. The two brothers that she had once threatened with Hannibalic retribution were now within the Lion's grasp. No Roman had ever defeated Hannibal in battle and now they were facing the Lion in the shadow of his lair.

If he was daunted by the prospect of meeting Hannibal Scipio did not show it. "He now has the fragments of Mago's army, to unite with the rest of his command, but we will not give him time to fully incorporate it into his army."

He turned away from the assembly. "But I do have one concern. I shall let my chief tactical advisor explain."

Another officer entered, and rather short man who could affect an only somewhat military posture. He squinted as he entered. Kim could not believe her eyes.

"Legally Distant Cousin Larry?"

"Hello, Cousin Kimora." Larratio Probabilis smiled. "You make an impressive Amazon."

"Thanks, Cousin Larratio. You sound well."

"Africa seems to agree with me better than Italy. But I believe we'll have time to catch up on the family later." Larry put his hands behind his back. "We have no worry about most of Hannibal's infantry apart from his Italian Army. They'll outnumber us there but that's not our concern."

Scipio's Cavalry Commander, Gaius Laelius took his cue. "With the addition of the final reinforcement we have two thousand cavalry, a normal contingent. Hannibal can match that number with the Sacred Band of Carthage, two thousand heavy cavalry. Heavily armed and armored, highly trained every bit a match for us."

"So we have a Scenario Eye Vee: the cavalry must hold off the enemy's horse long enough for the infantry to defeat its opposition." Larry observed. "If that were all we had to deal with I'd say get ready for the Triumph. But we have another problem."

Wadeamedes now spoke up. "Masinissa is not in total control of Numidia. Syphax still has relatives and followers. Tychaeus has joined Hannibal with two thousand light horse."

Larratio shook his head. "That puts us at a Scenario Ex: heavily outnumbered on the flanks. Usually not much of a problem but this is Hannibal that upgrades it to a Scenario Ex Ex Vee, imminent threat of a swift double envelopment."

The atmosphere in the tent grew grim. Falco and Scipio both had been at Cannae. Every man and the one woman in the tent experienced a waking nightmare of what that would mean.

"Of course, we have a remedy." Scipio said reassuringly. "Masinissa has sworn to come to my aid in this fight. I have sent messengers to Cirta to remind him of his oath and our friendship.

"Ronicus, Warrrior, you knew I would have a mission. Here it is. Go to Cirta, do not return without Masinissa and his army."

"That should give us enough to give us a Scenario Ex Ex Ex, we hold the advantage on the flanks." Kim's cousin walked up to her with a smile. "I've always wanted to see the Masked Warrior in action."

"Are you coming with?" Her opinion of her cousin, while greatly improved over the past few minutes, she found she still had no desire for extended contact.

"No, my duty is here. We still have to put together a plan to deal with Hannibal's other threat."

"Other threat?" Ronicus spoke up now.

"Hannibal has been busy gathering more than men. He'll have at least sixty elephants at the battle."

"Elephants?" The Prefect managed not to squeak

"Don't worry, Ronicus, we'll come up with something." Wadeamedes put a hand on Ronicus' shoulder.

"I hope so. Horses can't stand elephants." Everyone in the tent smiled, mostly out of sympathy. Being tied to the ground watching elephants bearing down on you could give anyone issues.

Scipio cleared his throat. "So we all know what we'll be doing. Ronicus, Warrior, you will leave tomorrow for Cirta. The rest of you will continue to train your men for the coming fight while Larratio and Wadeamedes help me prepare a battle plan.

"And now, an army waits to greet its priestess." The smoky brown eyes smiled at the woman who was once the object of their affection. "Your acolyte awaits you with your gear."

Dorcas had her regalia laid out. Once she was dressed Kim walked out of the command complex with Scipio behind her and Ronicus at her side. The Praetorians parted and they came to the entrance of the command center. Scipio's tent was on a rise inside the camp.

Thousands of men cheered wildly at the sight of her. The ground shook when she took her husband's hand.

"I told you KP, a legend."

Notes

**Amantium irae…**lovers' quarrels.

**Per gratia Fortuna…**by the grace of Fortuna.

**Melquart…**Yes, like Moloch of the Old Testament, infants were sacrificed to the god. By this time the practice had been abandoned in Phoenicia, the home of those who settled Carthage, but Carthaginians still practiced it, much to the disgust of their neighbors and (especially) enemies.

**Preatorians…**Forget Hollywood, the name simply refers to the body guard of a leader (Praetor) the first such body was organized by a Scipio in 275 BC. It was important to protect the leader after all.

**Exiles of Cannae…**Scipio was at the disaster, why wasn't he exiled? Maybe it was because there was no question as to his courage, and he and some other men swore oaths after the battle to never surrender. His father and uncle were also doing well in Iberia, which would not have hurt. All in all, if this was a case of nepotism, it really paid off.


	4. The Returned

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers; Shrike176, screaming phoenix, MrDrP, CajunBear73, Katsumara, King in Yellow, bigherb81, BlueEyedBrigadier, Michael Howard and all the other readers.

Chapter 4: The Returned

Hannibal rubbed his good eye while a servant refilled the lamps. Once the man left he was alone in his command tent. The Senate had wanted him to stay in a house within Hardrumetum as it would provide greater security against assassins. Although that made perfect sense, he knew that by tenting with the army he showed confidence in their ability to guard against Scipio reprising his night attack at Utica. That fiery assault destroyed the armies of Gisgo and Syphax. It would not happen to the army of Hannibal.

He looked over the old sand table, where he had planned so many victories over the years. The colored blocks representing his men and the enemy rested in their projected positions and strengths. _But so much is different this time. Never before has so much been beyond my control. Scipio is capable of anything, while my own army is so limited. _

For the tenth time that night he pondered the first two battle lines. Green blocks that had once stood for Gauls now represented Ligurians. He would always associate green with Liguria. Blue now served to identify Gallic units. Behind that line were black blocks indicating the levies from Carthage and Libya. A final set of purple squares made up his Italian Army. Three battle lines, just like the Romans. _I'm not too proud to learn; too bad the same can be said of them. _He rested a hand on a green block when a voice intruded upon his thoughts.

"Ah, decisions, decisions."

The Lion had his sword out before he turned. A man leaned against the tent pole leading to his sleeping area. "Identify yourself, stranger. You may have taken care of my guards…"

"Do not worry. Your guards are neither harmed nor bribed. You may trust them." The man emerging from the shadows was unlike any he had ever seen. He was slender yet without a hint of weakness. The Carthaginian had never seen eyes like those, nor had he seen the complexion, and he knew men from all over the Mediterranean and even some from the land of the Indus. But the arrogance in the smirk was very familiar.

"Hannibal Barca, the greatest general since mighty Iscandar, making his plans." His hands were empty as he walked over to the table. "Or are you just playing with blocks?"

A dark eye glowed with anger. "I see no weapons, stranger. As you have not attacked me, I presume you are here to seek some manner of arrangement. Insulting me may not be the surest route to that end."

"I mean no insult, Great Hannibal. Your victories are a most impressive monument to your ability as a commander. While a relative newcomer to your lands I have studied your battles with keen interest. I particularly admire how at Cannae you turned an open field into an ambush. Amazing! And now you finally face an opponent worthy of your talents."

"Scipio." Hannibal responded. "It took my brothers and Gisgo to defeat his father and uncle. The Young Scipio has avenged his family quite nicely."

The stranger nodded. "Indeed. In a few years he took Iberia from Carthage, undoing the work of your father, your brother-in-law and yourself. And now he threatens Carthage. Perhaps those fools finally realize the mistake they made in not assisting you in Italy."

He ran his hands along a set of red blocks representing the Romans. "Curious…two men so eager for battle when lesser generals would wait. Your men need training in order to coordinate your forces. And your opponent has a rather small army to send against such a mighty city. Then again; the Romans see this war as all but won. Scipio holds onto his Imperium by the goodwill of the people." The man's lips twisted at the last word. "But if he does not fight you soon, those same people and their Senate may think he has at last succumbed to Fabius' view of things. Who would replace him? Claudius Nero commands the support fleet; I know you'd like a chance to meet him in battle."

Hannibal's jaw tightened at the mention of the man. A whisper escaped his lips. "Has'."

"Rather barbaric, wasn't he?" His visitor goaded. "Nero would jump at the chance to defeat a second Barcid, he would be assured of immortality. And how many other noble Romans would clamor for the honor of ending this war? Scipio must fight, and soon, if he wants the accolades. Not only must he fight, he must win, and do so decisively.

"Whereas all you have to do is not lose. A minor defeat, even a draw, will be the same to Scipio as a rout. He would be replaced. But even though we've never met, I know you. A simple victory won't do."

The dark eyes lifted from the table to the Lion. "At the moment you hold an advantage in cavalry, but Scipio has Masinissa, who owes his throne to Rome. Surely he will arrive soon with far more men than your Tychaeus commands."

"There is always Vermina."

"Son of Syphax? Yes, he is gathering a great host in the hinterlands." The stranger's face twisted in contempt. "But he is more interested in asserting his authority over his people than in assisting you. He will not arrive for weeks, and you seek battle within days."

The man reached across to pick up a small gray block resting at the very front of Hannibal's lines. "You have only one true advantage. I take it each of these represent five elephants?"

"Eight." The Carthaginian corrected his visitor.

The stranger almost sounded impressed. "So you have eighty? The princes of Maurya would say that is a good start. Enough to provide cover for your entire line. That is, until someone hits one with a javelin, or a stone, or looks crossly at it. I saw them drill today. To call them half trained is beyond optimistic. Half of them have only just been captured from the wild. Oh, you have good trainers and within three months they'll have the beasts steady enough to provide a screen against cavalry."

"I don't have three months." Hannibal's look was sour. "This is where you would offer your services?"

The man at the table smiled. "Of course. Your elephants need three months when you plan to march in a week. How else can you hope to catch Scipio before Masinissa joins him?

"Three days, General. Give me three days and three nights and you will have something never seen in this part of the world. Your elephants will have the discipline of Libyans, the steadfastness of Iberians and the fury of Gallic champions! They will sweep aside Scipio's cavalry, trample his velites and leave the hastai in hopeless disarray. You will not merely defeat Scipio…you will destroy him."

Hannibal watched the face of the man as he spoke. It glowed with a delight he had not seen since his old lieutenant Hannibal the Duelist. "How long will Iberia stay loyal to Rome once Scipio falls? You could return there if you wanted. Perhaps those fools in the Senate would finally support a real invasion of Italy."

"All of this you would give me and for what price?" Hannibal hesitated.

"Ah, how rude of me." The stranger shook his head. "As this is not my land I shall dispense with the title. I am Elefist. My requests are within reason: pay commensurate to my duties, command of the Elephant Corps, a reasonable share of the loot and the same for the members of my company. And there is an additional consideration."

The man's skin took on a grayish pallor, or was it the gathering shadows? "There is one among the Romans with whom I have, shall we say, issues. When the battle is won: the one called Ronicus Stoppabullus is mine!"

An arm extended to the Carthaginian. "Do we have a deal?"

_I had the boy staked out to be trampled by elephants. This man could not possibly have any worse planned for him. _Hannibal put his sword away and clasped Elefist's arm.

"Excellent! I shall start in the morning, arriving at the main gate in a more orthodox manner. If you don't mind, General, I shall let myself out."

Elefist slipped out of the rear of the tent and made his way to the parapet. No guard noticed him as he left the camp. His satisfaction was misplaced; he was not the only shadow abroad in the night.

The Massaesylli Kingdom of Numidia

Dust rose from the hooves of twenty-three horses and the wheels of four wagons. A Prefect led the company, beside him rode a warrior whose face lay hidden behind the mask of the Corinthian style helmet. The saddle and gear of the horse were colored magenta. The men behind them were also dressed in their finest armor; this was not a mission of war. Just behind the first two riders a standard bearer lifted high the unit's proud symbol: a golden mouse.

Kim's hand reached down to touch a javelin as riders approached. They had come across patrols the last two days, but this one, instead of merely waving, drew near. She was still unused to the idea of Numidians being anything but the most dangerous of Hannibal's men.

Everyone pulled up to a halt. A man detached himself from the patrol and rode up to Ronicus. His deeply tanned face broke into a smile.

"Ronicus, welcome back to Cirta! His Majesty will be happy to see you."

"Thanks, Adhebal." The Prefect smiled back. "I've some V.I.P.s for his Majesty to meet. This is the Masked Warrior of Mystery."

Kim nodded her head to the man. He seemed suitably impressed.

"We have heard much about you. His Majesty will be flattered to know that Rome has sent its Champion."

A little white head peeked out of a saddle pouch. Ronicus smiled as he watched the mouse rub his eyes. "And this little buddy is Ruffio."

"Ave!" squeaked Ruffio.

"And here's an even greater legend!" Adhebal and his men laughed. "His Majesty will be most pleased. You will find him waiting for you in his palace."

Spurius turned to the rest of the column. "You hear that, boys? We're getting a hero's welcome!"

"Hero?" Kim lifted an eyebrow as she looked over at Ronicus. He blushed.

"Warrior." Spurius nodded to his commander. "This is the man who saved Masinissa's life at the battle for Cirta."

Ruffio poked his head up at the news. "Ave, fortissimus vincintus!"

"Stop it. I was just doing my job." Ronicus protested.

"Your job?" His lieutenant was incredulous. "Warrior, you should have seen him! Masinissa was unhorsed…doomed. A dozen men were riding down on him. He was about to pay the price for his recklessness."

Ronicus cut in. "He wasn't reckless. We needed Syphax to fight outside away from the city. If he hadn't drawn him out into the open we might still be besieging the place."

Spurius shook his head. "He wanted the victory for himself; to claim he won the throne without our help. Anyway, Warrior, we forced our way through Masinissa's disordered men to see their leader about to die.

"That's when your husband stepped up. Sam covered the ground like only he can. Twelve men charged Ronicus, twelve spears against one sword."

_Not just any sword, but the Lotus Blade. _Kim looked over at the hilt of what everyone assumed was an Iberian copy of Ronicus' lost Italian blade. The actual copy was in her wagon bringing up the rear. It was inside with Dorcas and Ronicus Regarus, who foolishly went double or nothing against Ruffio.

The story continued. "Ronicus charged right into the midst of them. He swung his sword once, just once, and twelve men tumbled out of their saddles! We captured them after the battle. All they remembered was a black horse, a bold warrior and a flash of red light. Did you know you married Hercules?"

Patricia propriety forbade Kim from mentioning her allusion to Hercules' club when discussing her husband with Bonillia. "I've had my suspicions, Spurius."

"It wasn't me." Ronicus demurred. "They looked behind me and saw that the Golden Mouse was in da house. Too bad, so sad to be you."

Spurius laughed. "You talk so strangely sometimes, sir. Are you certain you have no Gallic ancestry?"

"Yep. Just Roman and a little Sabine." The Prefect smiled. "Though I think Ruffio has a bit of Samnite in him."

"Romae natus, Saunite ex dono Jove." Ruffio squeaked proudly.

Kim's gasp caused the men to look ahead again.

"Boys," Ronicus crowed, "the Golden Mouse returns to Cirta!"

Cirta of the Numidians rested on a plateau controlling the rich lands around it. The deep gorge provided a formidable barrier to attackers. Only the southwest approach was not guarded by a precipitous drop. At some places one could almost jump the cliff with a strong horse. Other points were beyond the range of anything but the strongest siege engine. Everywhere the drop was fatal, whether in the rushing river on the east side or the rocks to the north and west.

They made their way to a modest bridge on the eastern side. Heavily armed Numidians let them pass with a salute. Ronicus squeezed Kim's hand.

"The gate's on the western wall. We'll have to go around. If we're lucky the ground before it will be occupied."

"Occupied?" Sounds answered Kim's question.

A moat and parapet surrounded a camp at the southwest corner of the city. Thousands of men marched, threw javelins and engaged in all manner of drills. The exercises were Roman, as were the instructors, none more than the towering centurion who marched over to them.

"Ronicus, Warrior, Ruffio, good to see you again." Centurion Marc Barcus raised his arm in salute.

"Right back at you, sir." Ronicus replied.

"Don't call me 'sir' you're the officer." Barcus' broad smile belied his tone. "I'm happy to tell you, Warrior, he's grown into a fine leader of men."

"Oh, he's fine all right." She answered. Everyone laughed around the blushing Prefect.

"Uh, Centurion how's the training coming?" the beet red Ronicus anxiously sought to change the subject.

"Honestly, I've taught better." Barcus' face lost its humor. "It took too long to defeat Syphax. We destroyed his best infantry in the process. What we have here are good enough to guard a camp, or hold a city, but we don't want to pit them against veterans in the open field."

"Good thing we only really need their cavalry." Spurius observed. No one liked the Centurion's silence.

"Are you saying there's a hitch in this sitch?" Kim voiced everyone's concern.

"I…believe so." Barcus had his swagger stick at his chin. "Masinissa has over four thousand cavalry that can be ready to ride within two days."

"But Scipio's been sending messages for weeks." Ronicus said.

"Problem is Masinissa. He listens to the messengers, he agrees to ride, but come the morning he always has a reason to wait another day. When I saw you I figured that Scipio has finally sent the King's favorite Roman in hopes of getting him moving.

"The Masinissa I know never had a problem getting going. It was getting him to stop."

Ronicus shook his head. "He knows he won't keep his throne if we lose."

"Don't be so quick to assume the Carthaginians wouldn't take him back. They allied again with Syphax after he rebelled, and Masinissa's an excellent officer. It might not take that much for him to convince them he's changed his mind."

Something about the Barcus' expression made Kim uneasy. "We'll just have to check, Ron. I guess the palace is next."

It took a while to enter the city for the throngs of people taking advantage of the stability brought by a new king. Many faces looked up with appreciation at the passing Romans. Other faces were not so friendly; Cirta was filled with refugees from Carthaginian cities fleeing the wrath of Scipio.

When they reached the palace Kim had another start. The men at the gates were armed and armored like Carthaginians. They were respectful enough, but she had to fight her instincts to keep her hands off her javelins. The company dismounted and while the troopers took the wagons to an enclosed area reserved for visiting dignitaries, Kimora, Ronicus, and Ruffio made their way to the throne room, again down a hallway lined with what looked like warriors from Carthage.

The room was large and pleasant, there was no ceiling, only a roll away awning to keep away rain or excessive sunlight. A man sat on a simple raised seat at the end of the room. He looked to be Scipio's age. His skin was dark, as was his hair. The build was wiry and muscular. One could not miss the energy in his features or the shrewd intelligence in his dark brown eyes. A Numidian officer who had escorted them into the room advanced and announced him, in Punic.

"The Prefect Ronicus Stoppabullus and the Masked Warrior, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Suba. But Ronicus needs no introduction. How can I forget the man who yawned when I tried to spit him on my lance at Ilipa?" The King's voice was rich and powerful. He stepped down from his throne to embrace the Prefect. This time he spoke in Latin. "Welcome, friend."

"Good to see you, Your…"

"Don't call me that. At least not in private." Masinissa said amiably as he turned to Kim. "And I have heard so much about you from this man. I'm glad you weren't present at the skirmishing there; I doubt I would still be here."

"Ah, Masinissa, MW's a pretty reasonable sort."

"From what you've told me, not when you're in danger." The King put an arm around Ronicus. "I was trying to kill you all that day, and you didn't even seem to notice."

_How could I? With that being the day Little Ronicus was born, and Kim almost died. _"I was just tired."

Masinissa laughed. "So I did even worse than I thought! I was out ridden by a man both bored and reeling with exhaustion." He extended his arm to Kim. "I hear Rome has you to thank for training such a formidable warrior."

"It was no big. He was more than ready to learn." Kim took his arm. "I had to keep him safe, though, there was this girl…"

"And I hear she is here now. I look forward to meeting her tonight. Will you be joining us, Warrior?"

_The way he's looking at me. Is he that shrewd?_ "I have duties to attend, Your Majesty. Perhaps another time."

SPQR

Spurius was not disappointed with the evening. The Numidians had prepared a great feast for the unit that had turned the tide for their king. For their part the Numidians appeared to see Kim as everything her adoring husband had told them she was. Only one thing was less than perfect. Ruffio had retired early.

Ronicus sighed. "That was some superb eats there, Your Majesty."

"Thank you. Now, I am no fool. I'm sure Scipio has sent you here for a reason."

"Well, we do think that Hannibal is getting ready to move at any moment." The Prefect shifted the wine cup in his hand.

"Your cavalry is desperately needed." Kim spoke with the authority of a Patrician and a priestess. "Your enemies have already aligned themselves with Carthage. We need your men to counter them."

"And you shall have them." The King nodded decisively.

"No offense, but that's not the first time that's been said." He did not like to be so blunt, but time was slipping away, and Roman soldiers were expected to be direct in all things.

Masinissa set his cup down. "You need to understand my situation. I rule all of Numidia. No one has ever done that before. And I plan to rule a true kingdom, not a collection of tribes. It is proving a mighty task. My resources have been stretched to the limit and I've needed to be at the capital to coordinate."

"You have some interesting notions regarding coordination." Spurius butted in, looking sourly at the Carthaginian armor of the guards and the sound of Punic from the servants and officials.

"Say what you want about Carthage, it knows how to administrate, and how to prosper. My people have worked with them for centuries. We know their language and they have much to teach us. If we want to prosper, we must be willing to learn from them, just as we are willing to learn your ways of war. After all, when the war is won, they will still be here."

_But if we don't win, you won't be. _Kim looked over at Ronicus, her husband nodded.

He cleared his throat.

"The man I know would not wait another day."

For a moment Masinissa seemed to grow angry. Suddenly he began to laugh. "You know how to rile me, Ronicus! And that is half the battle. First thing in the morning I shall send out the order."

Things relaxed after that. Within an hour Ronicus and Kim were in their room.

"Do you think he'll do what he says?" Kim asked.

"There's no reason he wouldn't." Ronicus tried to be optimistic. "And he certainly has no reason to love Carthage. They let Syphax rob him of his kingdom, fine payment for all he did for them."

"Kings have devious minds, almost as devious as merchants."

"You think that Masinissa would side with them?" Ronicus was stunned. "Noooo. He might delay for different reasons, but betray us? Noooo."

"Something's up." The Priestess of Minerva frowned. "Tomorrow Dorcas and I will have to engage in some serious prayer."

SPQR

While the city of Cirta breathed easier, the palace was as on guard as ever. Double guards paced their rounds, each man fully well known to the others. They watched the rooms of guests and servants every bit as closely as the royal bed chamber itself. No one moving escaped their notice, their questioning.

Six men lined the door leading to the Masinissa's room. On the roof two men stared down intently at the royal windows. The king was alone that night, like he had been every night for the past few weeks. Absolutely no one was to be admitted until the Masinissa himself said so.

The King lay in a sumptuous bed, but he was not alone. His body trembled with delight. He half opened his eyes and looked over in appreciation.

"Fit for a King?" he breathed. "A god is not treated so well."

For the remainder of the night he slept and listened at the same time. His guest did not seem upset as his actions showed he had clearly been listening to every word.

"Yes, they are demanding. But we must join them or…Vermina? He won't be here for some time. Yes, yes, you're right. He can't take Cirta if I keep my army near its walls."

**Notes**

**Iscandar…**Readers of Ronicus Ibericus will remember this is the eastern name for Alexander the Great. He made it all the way to India and his Successors still held control over much of his old empire. One of the many cities founded and named by him is in Afghanistan, Iskandaron.

**Imperium…**Command of a theatre. Scipio maintained it at this time, even over any Consul, by decree of the People and Senate of Rome. (SPQR) Later came to have another connation.

**Claudius Nero…**In 207BC Hasdrubal Barca attempted to reinforce his brother Hannibal by marching an army into Italy. It was intercepted and destroyed by an army led in part by Claudius Nero. The Romans announced their victory to Hannibal by throwing his brother's head over the walls of his camp, in marked contrast to Hannibal's respectful treatment of fallen Roman commanders. No doubt he held a grudge against this man.

**Maurya…**The dominant power in India at the time, though our old buddy Antiochus the Great was busy there as well. Its most famous ruler was Ashoka, who after a particularly bloody war converted to Buddhism andspent the rest of his life seeking to govern in a genuinely enlightened manner.

**Hannibal the Duelist…**Known to some historical wags as Hannibal the Cannibal. While Hannibal was planning the march across the Alps this guy recommended that the men eat(!) their dead and even suggested they start with some practice beforehand. (Wonder if he had a steak sauce in mind?) His nickname shows a preference for getting into the fight. The historian Polyibus felt that many of the atrocities Romans blamed on Hannibal Barca were the work of this man.

**Ave, fortissimus vincintus…**Hail, the conquering hero.

**Romae natus, Saunite ex dono Jove…**Roman by birth, Samnite by the gift of Jove. Even by this time Romans lived and came from all over Italy.


	5. To Market, To Market

Kim Possible and related characters are property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, MrDrP, King in Yellow, Yankee Bard, Shrike176, screaming phoenix, bigherb81, Michael Howard, BlueEyedBrigadier, Katsumara and all the other readers.

Chapter 5: To Market, to Market…

Some time before dawn Kim opened her eyes. She gently lifted the arm draped over her and slid out of bed. Ronicus stirred, reaching out to place a hand on her bare leg. Goose bumps rose on her skin. He smiled at the effect his touch had on her.

"Going somewhere, KP?"

"Of course." Her eyebrow arched. "I go to seek advice from Minerva while her messengers are still abroad."

"Already in mission mode." He moaned as she slipped out of his grip and deftly avoided a playful grab by his other hand. "And now you're going to spoil the view by putting on all those clothes."

"I'm a priestess of Minerva, not Venus." His gaze encouraged Kim to dress neither quickly nor demurely. "And while I wish to see as much of Numidia as I can, I want Numidia to see only so much of me."

"From what I've heard we'll be seeing a lot of Numidia over the next few days. Masinissa wants to give me a tour of the countryside. Coming with us, KP, or should I say, MW?"

"Afraid not." Kim sighed. "I have duties to attend to that require a proper shrine."

Ronicus did not try to hide the disappointment. "Years apart, days together; the gods are not being fair."

"Now, now, everyone says that, which proves them wrong." Priestess chided Prefect. "Pray I get a quick answer. If I do…there's a little time to practice some of the more celebrated household arts."

"Booyah." Brown eyes twinkled as he looked over the auburn haired beauty now dressed like Minerva. "Is it too much to pay for a kiss from a virgin goddess?"

"I think she'd understand this one time."

SPQR

The Kings of Cirta provided a shrine for visiting dignitaries. Two guards in their Carthaginian armor stood on either side of the door. Their stiff salute brought Kim no comfort. That came from the spear she carried herself.

The door opened from within. Its opener came as no surprise. "Dorcas." Kim smiled at her acolyte as the girl bowed to her.

"All is prepared, Priestess." Dorcas had come to Kim seven years ago, when Scipio seized Nova Carthago in a daring assault. While she lacked wealth or an established family, she brought intelligence, desire, and the name of one of the Masked Warrior's most potent mentors: Dorcas Directoria, Chief of the Hunt of Diana. The girl had studied hard and learned fast, and the young woman would soon be ready for the Tests. Kim had no doubt that Dorcas would gain full admittance into the Cult.

"Good. I see everything is where it should be."

Dorcas caught her cue. "Nine tenths of any task is preparation. Mystery Ex Ex Ex Eye."

"And now to the remaining ten percent." They stepped up to the altar and added incense to the brazier. As the sweet smoke rose Kim lifted her arms in prayer. From time to time her acolyte added her voice to the supplication. She fell silent as Kim spoke the last words.

"Minerva, born of Jupiter alone, Goddess of Wisdom, your gray eyes pierce the darkness as surely as the light. Allow us to see what would hide from us. Expose the thoughts of our enemies. Grant us the tools of victory!"

Green eyes closed as she awaited an answer. Only insects and a few birds disturbed the predawn silence. Once at Nova Carthago Kim had heard a wandering philosopher refer to such silence, claiming it as proof that if the gods did exist, then they did not care about the lives of men, and were therefore unworthy of worship.

_You barely listened to the people around you. How do you expect to hear the gods?_

Dark eyes looked at Kim expectantly. "Priestess?"

Something caught Kim's eye on the ground. The last priest or priestess had dropped a coin that now lay mostly covered with the dust of the ground. _Wouldn't the philosopher find __that __ironic? _

"The answer lies within the city, little owl. We'll hunt for it today. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other…duties to attend to."

SPQR

An hour later it was Ronicus who had to slip out of a lecherous grasp in order to leave the bed.

"Oh, Ronnie, it's not fair leaving me all alone like this." She stuck out her lower lip.

The Prefect screwed his eyes shut. "No, KP, no! Not the puppy dog pout! Don't make me choose between home and duty!"

Laughter caused him to open his eyes. His wife could hardly sit up for her amusement. "I have not demanded you choose between home and duty. I'm asking you to assist with my duty. Remember, before the bearing and raising of future Roman warriors comes the conception."

"Don't forget, KP. Our Dictator demands a future bearer and raiser of future Roman warriors."

"He'll get what the gods give us." She did not bother to cover herself as she walked over to where her husband was cleaning up. She dipped a sponge in water and rinsed where he had scrapped his skin clean of the sweat of passion and the ever-present dust of Numidia.

"Wonder if I could convince Masinissa that Cirta needs a good bath? Be nice to have something Roman in this town." The blond Roman sighed. "That feels great, KP."

"Thanks. And a bath would make this place less Carthaginian."

Only a Roman could have found the will to dress and armor himself in the present situation. Kim pulled on a simple gown so that Ronicus could open the door to leave. She puzzled when he stopped and knocked on the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Letting the guard know I'm coming out." In a moment he opened the door and knelt to take a little white mouse into his hand. Ruffio handed his sword to Ronicus. It returned to full size and the Prefect slid it into his scabbard.

"Only the best guard, and the best arms, for us, KP."

SPQR

After its glorious start, the morning soured. Instead of an easy entrance to the throne room Kim found the grounds teeming with people. Red crested helmets showed her the way to go. Dorcas followed behind her as people made way for the Priestess of Minerva.

"Ron, what's going on?"

"King's not out yet." The freckled face was a mask of confusion. "This is not the man I know."

"He's not a man anymore, he's a king." Spurius grumbled. "Once the crown settles on the head it constricts the brain."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, maledicta corona." Ruffio squeaked above the din.

"But Masinissa's always been royalty." Men shook their heads at the Prefect's objection.

Kim touched his arm. "He was a prince, the son of one of several kings. Now he rules an entire nation. The sitch may be beyond him."

"Not the man I know." Ronicus was unmoved.

Trumpets brought a measure of order to the palace grounds. Guards stepped forward and a litter moved to the throne. When he emerged Masinissa looked ashen, and he moved unsteadily to his seat. The Captain of the Guard barked an announcement.

"His Majesty will leave within the hour, to show our Roman allies his plans for the realm. He should return the following day. At that time he will gladly hear any and all petitions."

The crowd roared, but not as Kim had expected. To be certain, she heard voices demanding their pleas be heard, but one request came from every corner, as urgent as it was unexpected.

"Sire, stay for our children's sake!"

Virtually every Roman in the group was a parent. They looked at each other with the same question on their minds. _What do they mean?_

One of Masinissa's advisors raised his hands. "Please, good people. The safety of your children mean as much to His Majesty as the safety of his own. We have doubled the City Watch until his return."

Few seemed pleased with that, but they fell quiet as Masinissa sprang out of his seat. "Would any of you challenge me?" When no one answered he relaxed a bit.

"We appreciate your concern and have addressed it. Your safety is our primary concern. It is to secure that safety that we confer with our Roman allies. We promise to be back before tomorrow's sunset."

"They're not worried about tomorrow night; it's tonight that scares them." Ronicus Regarus shrugged when his old school mates looked over at him. "Even a fake priestess can see that."

Ronicus nodded. "All right. Regarus, you'll stay with…"

"No way, Ron." Kim went on before he could object. "Dorcas and I need to talk with people to find out what's up. That won't happen if we've got legionnaires at our backs."

He sputtered. "But, but KP." The warm smile stopped him.

"It's no big, Ron. Just a foreign town; filled with factions of dubious loyalty, its streets haunted by some nameless dread."

He was trying to beat an orderly retreat now. "In other words, it's…"

"So not the Greek Drama." Priestess completed Prefect's thoughts. "We'll be careful, beloved. Should worst come to worst, Barcus has a full century just outside the walls. Go get your horse so you can lean down from the saddle and give me a kiss like a proper Roman hero."

Numidian soldiers cleared the square and within a short time their King rode by. He gave Kim a merry wave.

_He looks so much better than just a little while ago. A small hangover? There are any number of ailments that make one feel miserable upon waking, but fade with movement. Maybe the thought of leaving the city has picked him up._

Kim looked over the glum faces of Cirta's citizens. She turned to Dorcas. "Something's got this city scared. And what are we going to do about it, Dorcas?"

"Evoke Mystery Eye: When you don't know, ask!"

The Priestess put her hand on the Acolyte's shoulder. "Never forget that Mystery, it's the fount of all wisdom. Unlike Minerva we do not spring fully grown from Jupiter's head. We have to learn."

Sam's familiar snicker caught Kim's ear. He waited for her to scratch his ears. Next in line for her affections was his rider.

"See you tomorrow." Ronicus put one hand on her cheek as he bent down to kiss her. For her part Kim stood on tiptoe, her right hand on Ronicus' neck, the left at his waist.

"Booyah." Brown eyes were glazed over from the kiss.

"Take care of him, Ruffio."

The little white mouse poked his head out of his saddle pouch. "Et nunc et semper."

When the last Roman passed through the palace gate Kim turned to Dorcas. "We know what to do; now where do we start?"

"The palace?" the girl asked.

"Correct, we start there. They might have information on the King's health, but that's not what has the town scared. And to know what's going on in a town, you go to its markets."

Dorcas' eyes widened as Kim lifted her hand. It held a legionnaire's purse. "But won't your husband need his money?"

"Out there? What's he going to buy?" Kim carefully secured the coin purse to the cord gathering her chiton in at her waist. "And don't worry. He carries an even larger purse in his saddle bags in case the dice go against him."

SPQR

The maid looked from Kim to Dorcas. "Yes, Priestess, His Majesty has suffered from some strange malady these past few weeks. He sleeps late; and he awakens pale and haggard. Fortunately a little food, drink and sunlight and he recovers. This ride is as much for his health as anything else."

By now Kim was eaten up with curiosity. "Explain."

"Last month His Majesty led a patrol looking for raiders. He was gone three days. When he returned he was the image of kingly vigor, ready to lead his army to join Scipio again. Yet when he awoke the next morning, the fire was gone from his eyes."

The old woman glanced around before she went on. "I think it's living in this city! Masinissa has surrendered his birthright of the open air for this stifling place and its miasma of treachery!"

_I think this had little to do with whether Masinissa lives in a palace or in a tent. _"Any number of things can adversely affect sleep. Could we speak to a wife or concubine?"

"They can't help you. His Majesty sleeps alone now." The maid read the shock on Kim's face. "I would guess your husband has told you something of His Majesty's vigor? Rest assured it is undiminished; he merely sees them at day or in the evenings, and in their quarters. The nights he spends alone. Perhaps he still mourns his queen."

"You mean the daughter of Gisgo?" Dorcas asked. Quickly she bowed her head toward Kim. "Sorry for interrupting, Priestsess."

"No apology is necessary." Once she soothed the Acolyte with a gentle smile Kim nodded to the old woman. She resumed her story.

"Aye, Sophonisba, queen of Syphax. Masinissa had taken Syphax's capitol, why not his woman? I think losing the later vexed old Syphax more than losing the former."

Ronicus had told Kim much of this, of course, but she listened carefully to the Numidian. _Like a coin, every story has two sides. Mystery Dee Vee. _

"Imagine Scipio's surprise at coming to Cirta in time to witness the wedding feast of his ally, uniting with the daughter of his nemesis! The woman who had convinced Syphax to back out of again pledging allegiance to the Scipione and Rome. Syphax pointed out her beauty, her charm, her determination and a hatred of Rome worthy of a Barcid! Regardless of which argument worked, Scipio made his demand to Masinissa: surrender Sophonisba to him so that she could walk in chains behind Syphax in a Roman Triumph!

"Without Roman support, Masinissa would never have regained his throne, much less become King of all of Numidia. What choice did he have? He acceded to Scipio's demand. That night he went into the bridal chamber and told Sophonisba of her fate. Then he presented her with her wedding gift…a cup of the most potent poison he could secure. She thanked him for his courtesy and then drained the cup."

The Numidian relived the events as she related them to the entranced Romans. "I helped lay her out on her bier. The look on her face…if Carthaginian men had that determination you'd be the ones cowering behind your walls."

Kim pressed a denarius into the old woman's hand. "Thank you for your time."

"I live to serve." Before leaving the maid gazed into Kim's eyes. "You have such drive, such fire; as she did. I pray yours is a happier fate."

SPQR

While it was not yet a major city, Cirta boasted rich agricultural resources and a secure position along major trading routes. Its markets were far better than Kimora Possibillis had hoped for. She walked about in the proper stola of Patrician matron, followed by Dorcas. The merchants quickly warmed to the beautiful face and bountiful purse.

"It was more fun in Nova Carthago." Kim said nostalgically. "Of course there I was in disguise, a half-naked Gaul, complete with sword and a very abrasive bargaining technique."

"I bet that was fun." Dorcas smiled. "Oh, look! There goes a Gaul now."

Kim's eyes followed more out of politeness than interest. Northern Africa was a land at war, and war attracted the fierce men of Gaul like honey drew flies. This one was especially massive, with blond hair well past his shoulders and a bronze helmet sporting great horns at the front like a bull.

"I know that one." Kim whispered. "And where he goes…"

The man walked to a booth at the end of the square. Its awning went up, black and green. Kim ducked out of sight before a second man could see her. This one wore the blue face paint of war. His eyes glittered at the crowd that soon gathered before the stall.

"People of Cirta! Your King has business to attend to, business which draws him away from his city and its people. And while we pray to all the gods that it does not happen, the shadow of chaos may again walk the streets at nightfall, entering your houses as it did the last time."

Kim watched the faces of the people around her. They were haunted with dread. Some clutched at amulets about their necks. One or two fought back tears. A low growl came from her throat as she witnessed Drakkus' satisfied grin. The Gaul was all but feeding on the fear.

"We witnessed your pain, your sorrow. And since that time my mistress has worked to provide for your safety should such a time come again." He pulled back the cover from the counter. "Behold! Amulets! Spells! Charms! The wisdom and power of Egypt, where they have deep knowledge of the forces of darkness and how to combat them! My mistress has studied with the greatest priests and sorcerers of Karnack, and now seeks to aid you with their power in this time of need! All for a most reasonable price, I assure you!"

People surged forward. Kim had been very subtle so far in the market. Her questions had been off handed, feigning only mild interest in the affairs of the city. She had noticed how parents seemed to be keeping a closer watch on their children than seemed normal. It seemed wise not to press matters too hard. After all, she was clearly a foreigner.

A hand touched her arm. Dorcas whispered as she leaned over to the girl. "What are they warding against?"

"I don't know. We need to get closer." They slipped along from stall to stall. Kim bought a couple of items, including a beautifully carved toy Iberian slashing sword for Young Ronicus. Shoppers hurried away from Drakkus' booth, clutching their purchases close. By now they were close enough to hear the haggling.

"But, sir four obols are all I can offer!"

"And for that you can have two charms." Drakkus replied.

"I have three children!" Desperation lined the woman's face. "Please, good sir, my husband is dead, killed at the Battle of the Great Plains fighting for Syphax! Supporters of Masinissa seized his shop and drove us from our house. We live with his brother now."

If Drakkus felt any sympathy, he did not show it. He held up the third charm. "Then you pay no rent. Surely you have another diobol…so small a price to pay to protect a life."

"I spent the remainder of yesterday's earnings on food! I will have no more until after sundown. Please! They took my husband's shop, house and tools. The children are all I have left of him!"

Anger boiled up in Kim as she watched Drakkus lean forward, a leer on his face. She was helpless to intervene without giving herself away. The Gaul started to reach out to touch the woman's face when a pale arm grabbed his from behind.

Shegovia glittered with jewelry. The green and black dress was made of the finest Egyptian linens now. Kohl around the eyes accented their color and the paleness of her skin. She still wore the old girdle adorned with the green man and holding her scorpion daggers. The look was utterly alien to the people of Cirta. It screamed of power.

"Your husband died fighting for Syphax?" Black hair framed the fey face as her head tilted to one side. Challenge was in her eyes.

"Yes." The woman responded without shame.

"Four obols will do then." The Ligurian took the charms from the shocked Gaul and handed them to the woman. She bowed, calling upon the gods to bless her before she left.

Drakkus turned to sneer at Shegovia. "Nice going, Mistress. I didn't know we were running a charity here."

Her right hand grabbed his tunic at the front and the left hand went up. It trembled for a moment before it relaxed and went back down. The Gaul sighed with relief.

"Take what they can pay, Drakkus. You know how much the materials cost me. I trust you to turn a profit." Even when she turned and walked away Drakkus did not dare to object.

Noisy shoppers provided a screen for Kim and Dorcas as they passed by the stall to follow the Ligurian. The woman went down an alley way, people took care to avoid touching her as they passed by. Once she reached an empty opening she stopped to put one hand on a wall. Her head rested on her other.

_She knows what's going on. _Kim stepped into the square. "Nice of you to help out that woman, Shegovia. Trying to atone?"

The effect of Kim's voice was like a shock passing through Shegovia's body. She turned in anger. "You think I did this to them? What do you take me for?"

"A witch." Kim crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow. "You've struck people from behind, blasted unarmed boys and tried to order an elephant to crush the life out of me. How hard could it be to start going after children?"

"And after all the help I gave you on your wedding night." The tone was one of mock betrayal. "I probably should have sent you an aphrodisiac, something to add warmth to those cold Patrician veins. I heard it took two years for you to get with child. Did it take that long for his love to move you?"

"He moved me from the beginning!" Two pair of green eyes flashed at each other. Kim moved forward in a crouch. Her opponent's lips curled into a sneer.

"Ohhh, I'm being attacked by the big, bad priestess. What are you going to do, pray at me?" Daggers flashed in the sun. Shegovia stalked forward slashing at the air. When she drew the blades back Kim delivered a powerful kick to the witch's chest. Shock registered on her face as the woman flew backwards to crash into another wall.

The Roman tried to press her advantage and almost had her stomach opened by a sweeping blade. Shegovia had a look of grim determination. "You should have brought your spear, Priestess!"

"I don't need the spear. I've got the Open Hand!" Kim had kept up with her training from the moment she was able after Young Ronicus was born. Her mother and Nana had begun the training, and after she had returned from Iberia, Dorcas Directoria further advanced her understanding of unarmed combat.

Daggers stabbed and slashed. Kim blocked and dodged, launching strikes of her own when the opportunity presented itself. The sneer had vanished from Shegovia's face as she found her weapons to be no advantage. Strangely enough, the trade mark green glow of her hands was nowhere to be seen.

"What's the matter? A little tired from your other activities?" Shegovia stumbled as Kim slapped a stab aside and dealt the witch a blow to the side. Another low kick and Shegovia fell to the ground. The woman moved back to a wall, but was unable to escape.

Fear seemed to be in her eyes. Before Kim could close again she screamed.

"Help me!"

Dorcas ran up to Kim. "Mistress! Behind us!"

Kim took a step back and looked behind her. Dozens of people were blocking the alley she had come from. When she looked around Shegovia was pointing at her. Kim had lost her stola in the fight.

"Flaming hair!" the witch screamed. "It's found me!"

Shegovia fled before Kim could react. Dorcas' gasp made her turn around again. The hoarse cry chilled her.

"It's trying to kill our benefactor…GUT THE EMPUSA!"

Notes

**Maledicta corona…**curse of the crown. Romans had a dim view of kingship at this time.

**Et nunc et simper…**now and always. You can count on Ruffio.

**Sophonisba…**Ah, Sophonisba! Daughter of Hasdrubal Gisgo, our old buddy in 'Ibericus' she was actually engaged to Masinissa before he defected, upon which Gisgo used her in part to keep Syphax loyal. (Carthaginian nobles often intermarried with Numidian royalty.) The maid's story comes from a compilation of the original sources. She was said to be as determined as she was beautiful.

Her story inspired tragedies, stories, even at least one opera. (One war game company even gave her a counter of her very own, charisma '10' of course.) I had planned to use her in 'Ibericus' but Scipio deserved full credit for his attack on Nova Carthago, it just would not have been fair to make it the result of a moment of weakness in a woman's arms.


	6. Aunt Attie

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, screaming phoenix, King in Yellow, Shrike176, BlueEyedBrigadier, Katsumara, bigherb81, MrDrP, Michael Howard and all the other readers.

Chapter 6: Aunt Attie

"GUT THE EMPUSA!"

Kim took a step back and surveyed the situation. She and Dorcas were in a small square, maybe thirty cubits across. The way they had come was blocked by a decidedly unfriendly mob. All doors and windows facing the square were shut and no doubt Shegovia waited in the shadowy alley that was the only other way out. _And Ligurians pride themselves on the lethality of their ambushes. _

She glanced over at Dorcas, who now stood at her side. "Our exit will come courtesy of Mars or Chiron. No awnings or laundry lines for a staff…I could really use a weapon!"

Dorcas pressed something into her hand. Elation quickly faded when she felt wood instead of ivory in the hilt.

"Maybe it's hard wood." The Acolyte gave Kim a tiny smile.

A man stepped forward. He held a mattock in his large, calloused hands. In response Kim raised Young Ronicus' gift to a guard position. She knew any attempt to talk their way out would only be a waste of valuable, perhaps fleeting, breath.

"A toy." The man rumbled. "Is that what you're doing abroad in the daylight, collecting bait? Is that how you coaxed my boy from my house?"

Tears streaked down the man's face as he charged. They were almost Kim's undoing. Her shock gave way just in time. Chips flew from the mud brick as she dodged the mattock at the last moment. She struck her attacker in the temple with the toy sword's pommel. The man fell senseless to the ground.

Next a young man rushed forward, slashing with a dagger. He dropped it when Kim rapped his knuckles with her wooden blade. An open hand to the side of his neck stunned him. Next she pulled the hand back and delivered a knock out blow with her palm to his forehead. The youth collapsed as if felled by magic. It was the worst thing that could have happened.

In an eye blink the mob went from shock to fear to rage. Two dozen mean and women surged forward. Kim sent one flying back with a sweep of her wooden sword. Dorcas kicked another man in the groin before a trio of women pulled her down into a clawing, shrieking tangle. A strike to the jaw dropped another man. Before Kim could kick one of the women on Dorcas a man drove her back into the wall. Reflexes avoided a fist to her face but others pounded her chest and stomach. Breathless and in pain, Kim sagged in hostile arms. The men holding her stood aside for a man coming up with a butcher's hooked blade.

"Start at the navel, Juba."

Kim's legs would not obey her frantic orders to kick the man. Strong arms held her up as the man grasped her chiton at the waist and brought up his knife. She had no breath with which to scream.

"This won't end quickly." Instead of a sadistic gleam the man's eyes held an expression of grim, even righteous, conviction.

The knife drew closer and the hands holding her gripped tighter. Kim screwed her eyes shut and turned her head away.

_Fortuna, patron goddess of my beloved husband, save us!_

Whack!

"Owww!" The man's cry caused Kim to open her eyes. Her would-be butcher went back, rubbing his hand. "Aunt Attie! What are you doing?"

Kim's diaphragm had stopped its spasms, allowing her to breathe again. She watched as a wrinkled old woman leaned on a cane and scowled at the people in front of her. "Making sure you fools don't commit a grievous sin. I'll box Shegovia's ears for telling you what to look for. Once I finish that; I'll box my own for not watching you all more closely!"

The old woman turned to face Kim. Her cane reached out to tap Kim's legs. "Lift your skirt."

Patrician umbrage rose. "I beg your pardon?'

"Lift your skirt, girl. Or do you want Juba to get back to work? Don't think you're safe because you've got your breath back. It would only take an instant for Juba to open you up, but it would take a long, long time to die."

Priestess looked over to her Acolyte. The women still held Dorcas down. Her face was bloody and bruised. Had it been only herself to consider, Kim would have refused, choosing death before dishonor. She lifted her skirt to just above her ankles.

The cane rapped her leg. "Higher." When she pulled the fabric up to just below her knees the woman snapped in Latin.

"Higher! Higher! I'm trying to save lives…theirs and yours!"

Dorcas shook her head. Without speaking she expressed her willingness to die alongside her Priestess. Kim's response was a reassuring smile. With a defiant glare at the old woman she hiked her skirt up to mid thigh. _Is she looking looking at me?_

For now the old woman was all business. "Gulussa, set your hands on her thighs." When a handsome man hesitated she cackled. "Come on, I've gossiped with your wife; this wouldn't be the third or fourth time you've touched another woman."

The man came forward and knelt in front of Kim. "Just touch." The old woman warned sternly. He put his hands on Kim's legs just below the cloth and went slowly down to rest on her knees. Through supreme effort Kim resisted the urge to kick the man across the square.

"Well," the crone asked, "are they both real? No mule leg? No leg of bronze?"

"No, Aunt Attie, they're as real as any I've ever felt." In another situation his hurried retreat would have been amusing, and the blow to his head from a woman, presumably his wife, would have caused her to laugh.

Aunt Attie sneered at the mob. "So you have a woman, and not an Empusa."

"But, Aunt Attie, her hair, it's flaming…"

"It's red! There is such a thing! Do you have any idea what would have happened had you killed this woman? She's Roman! Patrician! A Priestess! Wife of the Prefect visiting his friend our King! Masinissa would have you all nailed to the tree and fed your children to the wild beasts! Leave now and pray she does not report you!"

Moments later three women stood by themselves in the dusty square. Kim and Dorcas stared at their savior, whose lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Maiden, Mother and Crone, the complete triad. Come, Priestess; let's get your Acolyte cleaned up."

RB!

She took them down a seedy street. They did not expect it to end with a covered well surrounded by a garden of medicinal herbs. Children busily gathered leaves from one of the bushes, turning to bow as the three women went inside a hovel.

Another surprise greeted them. The hovel's interior was immaculate. Aunt Attie grinned. "If you're crazy, you have to go to one extreme or the other in caring for your house."

A mat was rolled out for Dorcas. Moments later the children entered bearing a bowl of clean cool water, a towel, and their harvest. They knelt until Aunt Attie laid her hands upon their heads and pronounced a blessing. When they left she got to work pounding the leaves in a mortar.

"The ocher one." She pointed to a set of jars on a shelf. Kim retrieved it as the old woman worked a little fat into the pulp to make a paste. Next she opened the jar to add sweet smelling herbs to the mixture. When she was done they washed Dorcas' face with the water and applied the lotion.

"This will soothe the scratches and ease the swelling." After her pronouncement the old woman looked closely at Kim. "And how are you feeling?"

With Dorcas cared for Kim allowed herself the luxury of a deep breath. "I hurt all over. It's like someone took hammers to my torso."

"I'm sorry for my part in this. I never should have told them what to look for any more than Shegovia should have. What were the chances a red head would wander in to fight with the Ligurian? Well, you know what they say: a little knowledge is a dangerous thing." Old eyes twinkled. "Mystery 'Em'."

"Which returns us to Mystery 'Eye'." Kim gasped. "Are you a Priestess of the Cult?"

"No, only a very, very foolish Acolyte." Aunt Attie sighed as she laid a hand on Dorcas' shoulder. "Is there a boy?"

Neither scratches nor bruises could hide the glow on the girl's face. "Linus Suetonius Benevernus. He's a citizen, Plebian, but his family owns a bakery within Rome, and land and servants in the countryside. Should he be called by the legion, he can provide his own equipment."

Kim had heard her Acolyte speak of Linus often. She smiled at the remembered eagerness of young love. The other woman's expression was wistful.

"Be wise, child. Before you marry, before you even so much as tell him you will consider him, complete your studies." The bent figure seemed to shrink even more into itself. "As I am sure you have deduced, my name is not Attie, it's Atlanta. And like her I too stooped to pick up a golden apple and lost the race as a result.

"My family was a well established mercantile clan in Alexandria. In their wealth and pride they sent their youngest daughter to become a priestess of Athena. I was a good student." she closed her eyes. "No, I was an excellent student. The High Priestess predicted I would take her place one day. Ah, did my head swell! But in the end I did not trip over my head, but my heart."

The Acolyte had to ask. "And his name was?"

"Her name was Daphne of Galatia. Skin like rich cream, hair as fair and as fine as a child's, eyes blue as the Mediterranean Sea. She was of the Hunt of Diana. I could not take my eyes away from her and I, well, was not unattractive in my day. Warrior and Scholar; each completing the other! Plato would have understood. My tests were coming up and she had a mission in Nubia. She swore that she would return for me, but I was determined to go with my new found love. So I seduced her; it was a simple matter, she was an open-hearted Galatian after all. I felt that surely the Temple would test me after our return. The greater error was in assuming that, since we could not truly consummate our love, that Diana would hold Daphne's vow as honored. We underestimated the depths of divine jealousy."

Priestess and Acolyte listened respectfully. They did not need to recall Mystery Ex Ex Eye; 'It is always a good time to listen'. Years seemed to drop away from the woman as she told her story.

"On our second day in Nubia we were riding along the crest of a hill when a fly bit Daphne's horse on the ear. A fly! The horse reared her head, lost her balance and tumbled down the hill. It rolled over Daphne twice…and broke her neck."

Atlanta struggled not to cry. "There was a pond not a stone's throw from where she lay. I carried her over to it and pitched out tent. For the rest of that day I prayed to every god that had, did, or would exist to save her, while she willed herself to die. We both failed.

"The next day she begged me to end her life. She would not eat. She would not drink. I cared for her as though she were an infant. And we fought. She cursed me for prolonging her misery, while I reminded her of all I had sacrificed to be with her. Our voices broke that afternoon from the shouting. I just sat beside her and cried. When I looked down at her that evening the anger in her eyes was gone. It was like looking at an infant. What else could I do? I took my blanket to the water and soaked it. . Once she realized what I was doing she cleared her throat and said 'Thank you, beloved'. Those eyes, so blue, glowing with love…as I covered her face!"

Kim reached out and pulled the weeping Atlanta to her. The sobs were soft, the faint cry of the old and tired. When she stopped crying Kim asked another question.

"How did you end up here, Sister?"

Atlanta's eyes were grateful. "No one has called me 'Sister' in a long, long time. I never returned to the Temple; partly out of pride, partly out of shame, partly out of fear. The only goal was to see the next day; and I did whatever it took to reach that end. My travels took me deep into Africa, to the Indus, across Gallia and even to an island west of Britannia."

"But Britannia is the end of the world!" Dorcas protested.

The old woman smiled. "For all we know, Britannia is the beginning of the world. Finally my body gave out when I reached Cirta. It's not a bad town: neither as arrogant as Alexandria nor as acquisitive as Carthage nor as aggressive as Rome. Over the years I had gained some knowledge of healing. The people here needed me, and I needed a home. When needs meets talent one finds happiness. Mystery Cee Em."

"And what has happened to your city, Sister? Why were the people so terrified that their king has left? What were they seeking protection from at Shegovia's stall? And why was a vengeful mob out to kill me and my Acolyte?" Kim winced as she finished her question.

"An Empusa."

Kim shook her head. "What does this have to do the daughter of Hecate and Mormo?"

"I said an Empusa." Aunte Attie sounded a little like an old tutor saddled with a dense student. "When I was a child my nursemaid would warn me that if I did not behave, one would come for me in the night. Always thought it was just a ghost story.

"Then last month the King rode out searching for raiders. The next morning Misicca, the man who first attacked you, discovered his third son was missing from his house. We searched the city and found him just outside the walls, curled up as if asleep. There was not a mark on him…or a drop of blood in him.

"Two more nights went the same way. A child found dead outside the walls. By the time Masinissa returned the city was in an uproar. He personally led the night patrol for their first two watches. No one died that night. It silenced the rumors…at least until he announced he was leaving again with your husband."

"Speculation as to what was behind the deaths?" Kim's question drew a nod from the old woman.

"Yes, Sister. There were those who said that the Old Queen of Libya had come to punish Numidia for abandoning Carthage for Rome. I have my suspicions as to who first started that rumor."

_As do I. _The red headed priestess could imagine a black haired witch whispering among a crowd. Her host's voice intruded upon her musings.

"That was easy enough to silence. I asked the people if it was Lamia, then why were there no serpent tracks? And like a snake, does she not devour her victims whole? So we settled on an Empusa, a creature that preys upon both grown men and children?"

The next question came from Dorcas. "If it is an Empusa, how do we fight it?"

"Alas, I do not know. Until now I thought that all you had to do when confronting a nightmare was to wake up." Aunt Attie sighed. "The shadow across the door tells me we've talked most of the day. How like priests. How like women. Come, I'll take you two back to the palace."

She clapped her hands and a boy stepped in with Kim's stola and the purchases made before the riot. The garment had been cleaned. As she put it back on Kim noticed how the boy's eyes would dart surreptitiously to a certain wooden sword. Hiding a smile, the Priestess put on her most serious tone of voice.

"Is everything here?" she asked sternly.

The boy's dark eyes radiated sincerity. "Yes, Mistress. I guarded everything just as Aunt Attie told me to."

"Then I have no need to check." Reaching into Ronicus' coin purse she pulled out a drachma. He gasped as she placed the silver coin in his hand. "Give this to your Mother. Tell her the Priestess was most pleased with you.

"Acolyte, I feel we may have made a mistake at the market. What would Young Ronicus' Father say about my buying his son a Carthaginian sword?"

Dorcas caught Kim's sly wink. "He may be displeased, Mistress."

"Yes, he is quite the proud Roman. Best to dispose of the evidence." The boy took the sword from Kim with a trembling little hand. He was gone in the twinkling of an eye.

"That was very kind." Aunt Attie approved.

"It was no big." Kim shrugged.

"All great things are the aggregate of small things. Mystery Cee Dee. Now, let me see you two back to the palace."

SPQR

Stars glittered by the thousands in the clear Numidian night sky. On the ground below a dozen camp fires emitted a warmer glow. Men talked, laughed and sang in the flickering light.

One group of men proved especially boisterous. They shouted encouragements or jocular curses at a little white mouse. Ruffiio shook a cup nearly as large as himself. Age and infirmities gave way to the irresistible clink of the dice.

"Fortuna vindice! Ruffio cried as he threw the dice.

"Another match!" Ronicus shouted in disbelief. "Oh, man! First Kim takes my small purse and now you've swiped my big one!"

For his part Ruffio watched as Ronicus Regarus stacked the coins to make a miniature throne. Ruffio cleared his throat and gestured to the seat. Regarus followed the paw and apologized.

"A denarius. I'm sorry, Ruffio." the decurio quickly substituted coins. "Here, you go, now it's a Carthaginian face you're sitting on."

"Hannibal?" he squeaked.

"No, I think it's his father. I know how much you respect the Lion."

Satisfied, the little white mouse ascended his silver chair.

Masinissa laughed. "I've always heard that sorcerers could take the form of rats. I never dreamed one could be a mouse."

"Don't go up against Ruffio when the weapons are dice." Regarus' smile was rueful. "I discovered that the hard way…twice."

"Then I am a poorer, but wiser, King." The Numidian stood to stretch. "For the sake of my treasury, I must declare this game over."

Roman and Numidian officers gathered their winnings, or parted with their losses, and left. For a moment the King looked over the lands spreading out before him. He turned to face Ronicus and Ruffio. "A magnificent realm, is it not?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." The Prefect answered.

"Please, Ronicus, you're not my subject. Call me 'friend'. A King has far too few of those."

Ronicus brightened. "Whatever you say, Mass-man."

Ruffio slapped a paw across his forehead at his friend's choice of words. Ronicus paled, his hand going to the back of his neck.

"Oh, uh, I didn't mean anything by that, Masinissa. You're not fat at all or anything…"

"Relax, friend. No insult was offered and none was taken." The King again looked at his lands. "These could be rich fields. And they will be, with orchards on the hills and a town built around the wells down there. I shall settle a clan of Syphax's supporters. They will grumble at first, until the golden grain turns into silver in their hands."

_And how much will you take? _Friend or not, Masinissa was also a King, and hence suspect to Ronicus.

"I know what you're thinking, Roman. Do not worry. Numidia will never abandon the horse. It is the source of our strength, but prosperity cannot come by being the sword of others. Everyone talks of Carthage's great merchant fleet, but it's their farms that make them wealthy. Numidia will have such farms. My sons will inherit a rich kingdom."

"Sons?" Ronicus asked.

"Three already, plus a daughter. All legitimate. As for bastards, at least two more boys. And what of your issue, Ronicus?"

"I have a son. He was born on the day we won at Ilipa. I saw him when I went with Scipio to Rome to plan the invasion of Africa." His jaw tightened. "In four years I've seen him once!"

"How long were you in Rome?"

"Two months. The rest of the time we were in Sicily organizing the legions."

"Did you beget a daughter then? There is no shame in that, you know. Daughters can be highly useful to a man of wealth and position such as yourself."

"No, he's an only child."

"Forgive me if I am too forward, but your wife is young, healthy and beautiful. I would assume she is fertile."

"It took two years to beget Young Ronicus. The gods have blessed us in other ways."

"You should have brought her here with you tonight. There is something magical in the night air in the open country. It makes the men eager and the women receptive."

"That's not our problem. KP is all about being receptive. She's been receptive every chance we could get…" The blood rushed to Ronicus' face as Masinissa chuckled. Ruffio laughed so hard he toppled over backwards, knocking over his throne. Laughter continued to issue from the pile of coins.

Numidia's king gave Ronicus a fraternal punch to the shoulder. "Friend Prefect, take my advice. None of my children were conceived within stone walls. When we ride to join Scipio there is a grove a day's ride out. I'm sure you passed it on your way to Cirta. I'll provide security and a skin of the finest wine. The two of you can provide the rest."

"Thanks, um, Masinissa. I'll ask Kim. I'm sure she'd be…receptive. But we didn't need the open air to conceive Young Ronicus."

"You're both city folk. Perhaps that's it. Sophonisba was city born. Maybe she would have been fertile within the sterile stone of the palace."

Prefect looked down at the little white mouse that climbed quietly out of his pile of winnings to stand beside his friend. They eyed the King anxiously.

"She was to be mine, you know. Carthage took her from me, after letting Syphax steal my birthright! Our wedding night would have been my final vindication. I would have had claim to support from both cities for my rule."

He smiled ruefully. "I should have known Scipio would object. Where I have an appetite for women, he has a weakness. He couldn't believe that I was in control. She might have been Carthaginian, but I am Numidia!

"It's strange. Some nights I dream of her. You remember her beauty, Ronicus? Remember how she glowed on our wedding day?"

Brown eyes looked back into the past. _She looked like a General celebrating a Triumph. _"I'm sorry."

"Could you have done what I did? Of course not! You would have meekly done your duty and surrendered your wife. Or perhaps you would have defied Rome, or killed her and then yourself. No matter what you would have been dead, or disgraced, which for a king is the same as dead.

"I was strong. I took another way. Sophonisba is gone but I am still here! I am still king! I will build Numidia into a great kingdom, bowing to no one! While I am your ally, Roman, I am not your slave!"

Masinissa's face seethed with anger as he fixed Ronicus in his stare. For his part Ronicus fingered the hilt of the Lotus Blade, wondering if the man in front of him was going to reach for his own sword. Then the King laughed.

"You are young, Roman. Be warned: a King can change his mood more readily than any woman. He can also lie more convincingly, even if he lacks a woman's charms. Rest assured, friend, everything I told you tonight is true. It's late. Get some sleep. I want to return to Cirta by mid afternoon."

Ronicus seized the chance. "I have to ask. Why were the people so anxious that you not leave them?"

"Haven't you heard?" Masinissa smiled. "They can't live without me."

SPQR

Fear rose in Cirta as the sun sank on the horizon. Everywhere doors were shut and windows were shuttered. Stalls closed hours early. Even a few dens of iniquity were closed, their staff having stayed home. Their pimps did not dare seek them out.

Every temple was active; offering prayers and sacrifices for the city and its people. In the shrine of the palace Kimora Possibilis stood before the altar in full regalia. The prayer she chanted was for a city under siege. Her Mother and Nana had taken turns saying it years ago while she was leading a forlorn attack on Hannibal's camp, intent on freeing a certain doomed junior cadet tribune. Whenever her voice tired she was replaced by one of two acolytes; one young, the other very old.

Both the guard in the streets and on the walls was doubled as promised. Faces were tense, armor carefully fastened and weapons honed. On the wall facing the necropolis a young archer watched a lioness padding her way through the tombs. He almost had the bow drawn back to his ear when he remembered how much the priest had charged to bless his arrows. _Won't waste them on a big cat looking for rabbits. _Some time later he motioned to his Watch Captain.

"Sir, do you hear it?" he asked the older man.

"Hear what?"

"Singing, sir. A woman began singing out there just at sundown."

"I hear nothing, boy, the tension must be getting to you. Fortunately your watch has ended. I can see your replacement coming. Go get some rest."

Archer and Captain left as the second guard approached. The man's pace slowed every time he reached the same spot where the archer had stood. Midway through his watch he was rooted to that place, leaning forward as if straining to hear something. He did not leave when his replacement came four hours later. The two men stood there until sunrise. Then they saw something.

A lioness walked slowly out from the tombs. Her head was hanging down and her tongue was lolling. The great cat seemed barely able to put one paw in front of the other.

"She may have the foaming sickness. Best to put her out of her misery."

The archer notched an arrow and drew his bow. His target screamed when the arrow embedded itself in her shoulder. A clumsy leap prevented a second arrow from piercing her throat. They watched as the lioness quickly dragged herself into a tangle of bushes.

One minute later a sally port opened and a dozen guards crept toward the brush. The archer covered his comrades as they advanced with spear at the ready. Branches shook as they thrust it again and again into the foliage.

"Did we get her?" the bowman asked.

His comrade frowned. "I don't understand. The tracks lead here. There's the arrow and a good deal of blood, but no lioness or tracks leading out. It's as if she disappeared."

Notes

**Empusa…**First the name of the daughter of Hecate and her consort Mormo, later a type of night demon that sought the blood of men or children. (Hecate's Roman equivalent was Trivia, but if I used that who would have taken it seriously?) She had flaming hair and according to most legends only one normal leg.

**Lamia…**another of those poor mortals cursed by the gods. And Aunt Attie would have been right; Libyans had little enough love for Carthage for the most part. It has been suggested by some historians that Hannibal could not understand the loyalty of Rome's allies because he did not come from a people who treated their subjects with anything like the skill that Rome had in Italy.

**Atlanta and Daphne…**Once again in our series we come across a vast difference between our society and the world of Ronicus and Kimora. Hellenistic medicine did not practice heroic medicine; if someone was deemed fatally ill you cared for them but did not try to cure them. They were fatally ill, after all. Someone injured like Daphne would have expected help in ending her life, particularly from someone who loved her.

**Fortuna vindice…**Fortuna will vindicate. The little guy has some confidence when it comes to gambling.

**The Lion**…Actually, Hannibal's father, Hamilcar, was known to his (obviously fearful) enemies as the Lion. His sons became known as the Lion's Brood. Aside for the drama the name engenders, I had Hannibal assume his Father's nickname, as this would seem natural, especially after Rome had bled so much from his claws.

**Busy Mr. Masinissa**…The King was known to have had at least ten sons, legitimate or not. No one bothered to count the daughters. Polybius painted a picture of Masinissa as putty in Sophonisba's pretty little hands. He was not the only one tarnished with such broad strokes; another Roman historian remarked that Hannibal was remarkably restrained in his dealings with women 'for an African'.

**Kim at prayer…**Some of you may have expected Kimora to mount a major Kimoraness operation and prowl the streets that night as the Masked Warrior of Mystery. No. She was a priestess, and her duty would have been to seek the aid of the gods. I have tried to show that she takes her position seriously, as we know she would have.


	7. Second Watch

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: MrDrP, Shrike76, BlueEyedBrigadier, screaming phoenix, King in Yellow, Michael Howard, CajunBear73, bigherb81 and all the other readers. Sorry I've been gone from this for so long. It really is time to bring some things to a close.

Chapter 7: The Second Watch

Cirta

Dawn came to the Numidian capitol, greeted by a populace holding its collective breath. In palace and villa, apartment and hovel, men and women looked to cribs and pallets and the crooks of their arms. This being the day and age it was there were some sorrowful discoveries; but in every case the passing was judged as coming from natural causes. The children could be mourned without dread.

Word spread quickly. People knelt before shrines and gave thanks. At one such shrine three women received the news from an overjoyed messenger. The red headed priestess smiled to her acolytes, a maiden and an old woman.

"Minerva did it."

Kimora Possiblis and her companions raised their hands and praised the Goddess of Wisdom. When they finished the paean Kim spoke again. "Dorcas, Aunt Attie, thanks. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yes you could have." Dorcas answered proudly. "Posibili onme possible!"

"You've listened to my Dad too much." The laugh made Kim wince. "And Ron would agree that I can talk all night, but I needed help."

"Always seek help where needed. Mystery Exe Exe Vee." Aunt Attie said. "It was our honor to assist you."

"Speaking of honor." Kim walked over to a chest. "On my authority as Priestess of Minerva I declare that a shrine will be built to her honor within these city walls. I myself will provide the necessary funds. It won't be anything elaborate: just a simple statue and altar. I believe I know the place…amid a small garden."

An eyebrow rose. "Atlanta of Alexandria, am I to understand that you completed your acolyte studies in Egypt?"

The old woman nodded slowly. "Yes, though I never took the tests. If you wish I could recite and expound upon the Thousand Mysteries of the Cult."

"That so will not be necessary." Kim said over a barely stifled yawn. "You have exhibited a thorough understanding of the Mysteries by your actions. Implementation is far better evidence than recitation."

"Mystery Cee Em." Aunt Attie and Dorcas replied.

After nodding her approval Kim opened the lid to the small chest belonging to the cult. She lifted a medallion on a silver chain. "Atlanta of Alexandria, in my capacity of Priestess of Minerva I appoint you priestess and guardian of the shrine to be built here in Cirta. This, of course, is subject to the approval of the High Priestess in Rome." Kim smiled. "But I think Mom will give the go ahead."

The old woman's eyes watered. "But, Priestess I am not worthy. I did not follow the proscribed path of the cult and have incurred the wrath of the gods."

"Such wrath, if that was indeed what happened, was from Diana not Minerva and its victim was Daphne the Galatian. You have spent your life in service. Should this action anger any god or goddess, may their wrath fall upon me."

The maiden and old woman held their breath while Kim placed the necklace around Aunt Attie's neck. Instead of lightning a shaft of sunlight settled upon the medallion.

"See, Apollo approves." Kim said. Now the yawn could not be stopped. "We'll meet after the midday meal to offer thanks again and to plan for tonight.

"The creature took no children last night, but today Masinissa returns to the city."

SPQR

In a small villa in the East Ward a warrior entered a luxuriously appointed chamber. Blue face paint could not hide the scar on his cheek or the worry in his eyes. He knelt before the room's occupant.

"My lady, no children were taken last night, you did it!"

He waited anxiously for an answer, any answer.

SPQR

The company made its way toward Cirta. At its head were two horses with three riders. One rode a pure white pony while the second sat on a massive black charger. With him the third rider poked his head out of a saddle pouch. Ruffio yawned at Masinissa.

"Taedet me."

Masinissa nodded and looked up to the young man riding beside him. "Ronicus, my friend, you Romans may yet turn into something resembling horsemen."

The Prefect's chest swelled within the armor. "Dudus, we're the finest equestrians Rome has ever had. We were good enough to save your biscotti. Right over there, if memory serves."

"Doing well against light horse is one thing. You now face the Sacred Band of Carthage. Some call them the true heirs to Alexander's Companions."

"Who calls them that, the Carthaginians?" Ronicus scoffed. "Pyrrhus said the same thing about his cavalry. So do Antiochus and Ptolemy about theirs. They all can't be right."

"Not everyone can be right. That does not mean that they are all wrong." The King fixed shrewd eyes upon Ronicus. "I have seen them. They are excellent horsemen. But there is a greater issue than that: Hannibal.

"We have spoken at length about this as King to Prefect, now I ask you as friend to friend. Can your Scipio do it? Can he bring Hannibal to battle before Vermina arrives? Even if he does, can he defeat the Lion? You ask me to risk much…everything…on this."

Brown eyes burned with conviction. "My friend, since they won't let KP command, the Senate has chosen the best Roman for the job."

Laughter rolled from the Numidian king. "You Romans are indeed straight forward. Come, you have shown your faith in your leader, your wife and your mouse, but as a Numidian I must ask; how much faith do you have in your horse? By my reckoning we are three miles from the gate. A helmet full of silver says I beat you there!"

"Big talk for a man on a small horse." The Prefect joked. "You hear, Rufus, we've got a race!"

"Bene habet!"

"Ah, I'll have two helmets then!" Before Ronicus could blink Masinissa was off.

Sam's snort brought Ronicus back. "You're right, Buddy. Hooves to the sand!"

On the city walls guards shouted the news. People ran up the stairs to the wall or raced out of the main gate. They did not bother to go tell others, this would not take long. Betting was conducted at a frantic pace.

Masinissa laid forward, hands on either side of his horse's neck. The pony practically glided over the rough ground; horse and rider moving as one. Each moment brought the gate and victory that much closer.

Behind him Ronicus crouched in his saddle. He gloried in the wind in his hair. Sam was keeping pace with the Numidian. It was just a matter of time. Suddenly the black charger put on a burst of speed. Masinissa felt the pounding hooves and looked over the see Ronicus' smiling face passing by.

"Abooyah!"

The gate was flying up. _How much silver will a helmet hold? _Then Ronicus felt Sam slow down ever so slightly. Sam's mighty rush had winded him. A short distance from the gate a white blur passed them. Masinissa waved in triumph.

The people of Cirta cheered their king. Ronicus walked Sam up to the victor. "Do we use my helmet, or yours, Majesty?"

"Yours, it will hold more." The Numidian laughed. "Whether in race or battle you heavy horse always overlook the importance of pacing and endurance. Now I must talk with the Watch Captain about last night. Go to the palace; I'm sure someone is waiting for you."

The young Prefect guided his horse through the streets. Sam had regained his step by the time they reached the palace. Ronicus took him to the stable. "You took off a full bow shot too soon. I've never seen you…" He hesitated. "Wait a minute; did you throw that race for diplomatic reasons?"

His charger avoided looking him in the eyes. Finally Ronicus gave him a pat and handed the reins to a servant. "Extra rations for the horse."

"Yes, sir, and, sir your priestess awaits you in the garden."

A small tent awaited him in the palace garden. Dorcas sat in front of it tending a small fire. "The meal will be provided shortly, sir." She motioned to the mouse on Ronicus' shoulder. "I have something for you, Ruffio."

The mouse jumped down for the promised treat, leaving Ronicus to go into the tent alone. Kim looked up from her couch. Her soft smile set Ronicus' heart to racing.

"Welcome back, beloved." She began. "Forgive me, but it was a long night and the room was so hot. The steward said that this would be a cooler place to greet you." She rose and the sheet fell away.

"Beloved," Ronicus swallowed. "Patrician women sleep…clothed, don't they?"

Green eyes glowed. Kim sauntered over, put her arms around his neck and brought his lips down to hers. "When in Numidia…"

WTOS

Ruffio, Dorcas and the Priestess Atlanta had a considerable wait before the two emerged again. Fortunately the midday meal was served, with dishes being taken into the tent by servants who emerged grinning. Finally a completely clothed (and thoroughly satisfied) Kim emerged, followed by an utterly happy if somewhat dazed Ronicus.

"I trust Rome's 'business' was well conducted?" Aunt Attie asked with a gleam in her eye.

"Exceedingly." Kim sighed. After a deep breath she spoke again. "Atlanta of Alexandria, this is my husband: Ronicus Stoppabullus, Prefect Equites of the army of Publius Cornelius Scipio."

Ronicus bowed. "A pleasure."

"But for her, Dorcas and I would not be here now." Kim added.

The formal greeting was replaced by a fierce hug. Ruffio climbed up the old woman's dress to kiss her cheek. He squeaked. "Ave, virago!"

"I thank you. Our families and our son thank you. Rome thanks you." Ronicus said. "Name anything your heart desires and I will do everything within my power to secure it."

Aunt Attie bowed. "Thank you, sir, but that would be beyond the desire of any man to grant. And your wife has graciously appointed me priestess and guardian of Minerva's shrine here in Cirta. What more could I ask for?"

Ronicus grinned. "Why to look the part, of course. Call the best seamstresses and armorers. I'll commission your panoply and a chiton for every day of the week…the month! You'll be the most bene-diggitos priestess this side of wherever Kim, her Mom or Nana happen to be."

"Thank you." The old priestess smiled. "I have not had a new chiton in some time."

"You two can discuss fashion later." Kim said. "Right now we need to plan for tonight. We believe we know what we're facing, the question is, how do we put it to rest?"

"I heard a little in the streets, an empusa?" Ronicus could not keep the concern out of his voice. "You're going after monsters again? Have you forgotten what happened the last time?"

Kim's eyes sparkled. "How could I? Someone gave up immortality for me. And like that time, there's too much at stake not to act." She looked Ronicus in the eye. "When it can't reach Masinissa, it goes after the children of Cirta."

The last part hit Ronicus like a blow to the heart. "You have the men of the Golden Mouse. I imagine we can get Marc Barcus and his men as well. Barcus can bellow like a century all by himself. And I'm sure Masinissa would give us any men we ask for."

"I'd rather not use his men." Kim replied. "The City Guard is Carthaginian trained. If my suspicions are correct, they could be easily turned against us by the person behind this. Luckily, we don't have to go breaking into tombs to find her."

Aunt Attie did not have to be asked. "I can tell you to where she is staying."

Kim nodded. "Good. Ronicus, make sure your men have eaten. The Masked Warrior will join them shortly."

SPQR

Given the euphoria over the previous night the citizens of Cirta obligingly cleared the streets for the company of Romans who trotted along behind the standard of a golden mouse. At their head was the Prefect Ronicus, friend of the King. To his left was the formidable Centurion Marc Barcus, chief drill instructor of Numidia's new infantry. And to Ronicus' right ran a slender, athletic warrior in bronze armor. His cloak, tunic trim and helmet's horse hair crest were all dyed a rich magenta. The Masked Warrior of Mystery carried a spear whose polished head could not match the deadly gleam of his green eyes.

Word had gone out ahead of them. At every intersection someone stood to give a sign and point out the correct street. In no time they reached a villa on a street peopled with foreign merchants. Three hired Numidian guards prudently retired before ten times their number. Marc Barcus raised a massive fist to the door, then he stopped and turned to Ronicus.

"Proper form requires the commanding officer to demand they open up."

Kim put out her arm before Ronicus could step forward. "This is not a question of form but surprise. Any warning could be too much in her case."

Prefect and Centurion nodded. They knitted their fingers together and bent down. Kim put a foot into either set of hands. The two men straightened up and propelled her into the air. The Masked Warrior landed on the top of the wall with feline grace. A somersault carried her down into the courtyard. Heavy footfalls revealed that surprise belonged to the villa.

"It's payback time! Yea, verily!"

Eddorix the Gaul charged across the courtyard, club raised overhead. Hair and moustache had grown wilder over the years, the eyes were the same. His first blow whistled through the air. Kim jumped back just in time. Burly arms stopped the club before it hit the ground and Eddorix brought his weapon up and across. He pressed the attack, smiling when Kim jabbed at him before turning to run toward a wall.

"Nowhere to run to, Red, no place to hide! Yea, verily!"

Neither was her intention. She ran up the wall, flipping over the charging Gaul. Two sandal-ed feet drove into his back. Stucco cracked when the Eddorix slammed into the wall. The big man went down.

A second opponent now entered the fray. No helmet covered the black spiked hair. Fine mail protected the massive chest. Dark eyes reflected the grim smile.

"Kimora Possibilis, we meet again. This time I'll lay you open and then we'll see if you're all that….if you've got what it takes…what you're supposed to have…oh, you know what I mean!"

"Actually I don't, Dracco."

"It's Drakkus Maximus now!" Sword struck sparks off the spearhead. The two circled, feinted and lunged. Where Dracco had been all power and attack Drakkus added subtlety to strength. This time he used a horseman's round shield, smaller and better suited for this field of battle than his old long one.

Drakkus sturck out with the shield. Kim brought up her spear shaft to block the blow. The move kept his blow from striking her chest but the shield struck the knuckles on her left hand. Involuntary reflexes brought the hand back. This time the sword came down the spear shaft and Kim had to release her weapon to keep from losing the fingers of her right hand.

Teeth gleamed when Drakkus smiled. "I've learned much since our first encounter."

He raised his sword. His expression of triumph turned into a grimace when Kim's left foot drove into his gut. She brought her right foot across his jaw with a war cry, just like Mom and Nana and Hirotaka had taught her. Drakkus bit the dust. "So have I."

The Masked Warrior bowed to her unconscious opponents. A heavy thud at the door caught her attention. Fortunately she stood to the side when she opened it; otherwise six men with a bench in their arms would have plowed into her. The men fell into the courtyard, with Ronicus' hands sticking out from under the heap.

"I'm fine." He gasped.

From his anchor position Marc Barcus looked up at Ruffio, who was perched atop the impromptu ram. "I told you it would work." The Centurion grinned.

In response the little white mouse flexed his tiny muscles. "Abooyah!"

Once the men had untangled themselves, Kim helped Ronicus onto his feet. "Thanks, MW. Centurion, secure the courtyard and the prisoners." He looked around. "Which room do we check first, MW?"

"Maybe the one with the black and green curtains?"

"Good call."

They made their way over, ignoring a servant who scurried back into a room. They heard a familiar voice give an urgent, fierce command. "No!" Scrambling noises followed. Team Warrior entered with weapons ready.

The room spoke of wealth and luxury. The softest fabrics draped choice cushions and pillows that sat atop the best furniture. Fruits and flowers were as fresh as possible and in abundance. Incense fit for a god burned in the brazier. Most people could not even dream of such luxury.

Something put a pall over the scene, the unmistakable miasma of pain and sickness. The room's occupant lay listlessly on a couch.

"Shegovia."

The Ligurian slowly turned her face toward them. Her normally pale face was drawn and pallid. The skin was dry and stretched, except for a bandaged right shoulder. All vibrancy had left their old enemy.

Another door was behind Shegovia's couch. Its beaded curtains moved. Ronicus took a step toward it when Shegovia's left hand went up, bathed in an eldritch green flame. She could only hold it up for a moment before she dropped it back down with a groan. There was enough energy to look back to make sure whoever was in the other room did not come out.

Kim came up to her husband. "Ron, whoever's back there is no threat. The guards at the door fled and only Drakkus and Eddorix fought me. It must be another servant."

"We've only seen one. I guess you're right." The Prefect slid his sword into its scabbard. "Shegovia, if you answer our questions truthfully no harm will come to anyone here. We swear this by our honor, that of our families and ancestors, and that of Rome herself."

The woman on the couch nodded. Kim immediately rushed over to look at her old nemesis' wound. She shuddered at what lay under the bandages. On the table beside the couch lay an arrow with a wickedly barbed head.

"Bad angle…Eddorix had to…pull…it out." Shegovia's chest heaved.

"Who did this?" Kim asked while she cleaned the wound. _The arrow must have been poisoned as well. _

The Ligurian's eyes were dull. "Guard on the wall. Just reward for…doing the right thing."

"You kept the thing from striking last night?" Kim asked.

"Dumb, huh?" Shegovia responded.

Ronicus spoke. "What were you keeping down, Shegovia? Who is it?"

"Queen…his queen. I raised her to keep him from helping Scipio fight Hanni. Didn't know…when you bring someone back like that…something…else comes too."

"The empusa." Kim said grimly.

"Just wanted her to go to Masinissa…keep him busy. But when he left the city the thing in her…wanted blood." A sigh escaped pale lips. "Children's blood. Couldn't let it…feed. Went to the tombs…sang to it. All night."

"I heard a guard shot a lioness this morning coming from the tombs." Kim put on a new bandage.

"Learned things in Egypt." A touch of the old pride was there. "Things you can't imagine, Princess."

"Try me."

The smirk faded from pain. "No time. Not…that…you'd understand. She'll come for him tonight."

"Then how do we stop her?" Kim asked.

"Need…hawthorn."

"It doesn't grow around here." Ronicus shook his head. "What else works, Shegovia.?"

Wounded and ailing though she was, Shegovia still managed a scornful look. "Do I look like some…old wise woman? Never…thought…I'd face anything like this. Besides, why would I want to stop her from getting to Masinissa?"

The Patrician already knew the answer. "He's a king trying to unite a people in the middle of a war. He can't stay here forever. And when he leaves…"

In response Shegovia sighed. "Sorry, Princess, I…I don't know how. But you'll have to find…a way…to…"

"Destroy it." Kim finished her thought. "Maybe if you tell us how you brought her back we can figure out a way to undo it."

"Stopped…the transaction." Suddenly Shegovia stiffened. A long groan escaped her. "Please, if you see Hanni…don't…tell…you saw me…what happened."

"But, Shegovia, he'd want to know." Ronicus said.

Her eyes blazed. "Don't want him to think of me….like this. Want him to remember me strong…remember…"

"I understand." Kim brushed the hair out of Shegovia's eyes. "If we see him, we won't say a word. But transaction, what do you mean? Shegovia?"

The Ligurian's eyes were closed. A sigh was her only answer. Ronicus knelt down beside her. He held his hand over her face. Finally he shook his head. When he stood up to enter the room behind the couch Kim put her hand on his arm.

"No, Ron. Whoever it is, leave them alone."

He turned from the door. They reentered the courtyard, where Barcus had the Gauls bound and a collection of frightened servants sitting under the watchful eye of Roman soldiers.

"Release them." Ronicus ordered.

"Sir?" Barcus started.

"There is no need to hold them. They can do no harm on their own." Kim added.

The meaning of her words took no time to sink in. After being untied Drakkus and Eddorix ran through the curtains and into the room. Their wailing carried into the street as the Romans marched back to the palace.

SPQR

"I can't believe she's gone." Ronicus said softly while they sat on the roof of the palace. "She healed me of a much worse wound than that."

"She sang all night to keep that thing in its tomb." Kim had her helmet pushed back. "Her powers were at a low ebb; and I'd bet the arrow was poisoned.

"Hannibal didn't know she was back in the game. It wasn't money or glory that made her do it. It was love."

"But coming here…without getting help from Carthage! That was crazy!" Ronicus shook his head.

"Semel insanivimus omnes." Ruffio squeaked sagely.

"And love will drive you mad." The Priestess put her hand on that of the Prefect. "We can honor her memory by destroying the thing she never meant to unleash."

The Prefect's freckled face twisted with frustration. "But how? I don't know anything about fighting monsters! And nobody else we've asked had a clue; not Atlanta, any of the priests or street seers. I wish Wadeamedes was here, or your brothers."

"Brothers…" Kim's eyes lit up. "You might have something there, Ron. We need to see Masinissa. But could you play the gallant and send some of your men with Dorcas to the market? After yesterday I don't want to send her alone."

SPQR

Hours later Kim looked up and repressed a shudder. Clouds raced across the night sky that is until they reached the full moon. Once there they seemed to bunch and linger, as though seeking to snuff out the silver light. _Everything shouts there is evil abroad tonight, but am I listening to wisdom…or superstition?_

She turned, careful not to bump her armor against anything. The man beside her had no such worries. Ronicus' only metal armor was a bronze helmet. He no longer wore the old leather breast plate, but its replacement was a muscled leather cuirass. Heavy leather straps protected his forearms and he wore high sandals but no greaves. 'I need to be quiet on patrol.' He had told her when he chose this panoply and it had taken all of her will power to not unleash a torrent of pregnancy-enhanced tears in an effort to argue for heavier armor. And silence is protection for a leader on patrol or lying in ambush. Still, Kim vowed to Minerva that upon his next promotion he would be encased in bronze, just like the Colossus of Rhodes.

"Thank Venus for a little time alone." She whispered.

"You mean thank Fortuna for the breeze. Masinissa wasn't going to sleep up in the pent house until it came up this evening." Ronicus answered. "I don't understand, KP, why do you want him up here? There are windows in every wall. Sure, it'll keep the room cool, but wouldn't his regular chambers have been safer?"

"Those windows are set in a sheer wall. We couldn't guard them. Besides, if I'm right he's protected and we can attack from all sides."

"The ability to please your husband and defeat your enemies; you are indeed badicus!" His eyes glowed in admiration. "If we weren't on duty, I'd ask for a kiss.'

"Why, Ronicus Stoppabullus." Kim teased. "Aren't you the same man who once was too embarrassed to hold the Masked Warrior's hand?"

Ronicus moved closer. "I've grown a little wiser over the years. Wiser and…Ruffio?"

The little white mouse had scampered over from his post. Ronicus picked him up. "Little buddy, you're as cold as death."

Ruffio could only shiver and point his sword in the direction from whence he had come. From their hiding place behind a rack of javelins Team Warrior watched. Another cloud had covered the moon, plunging the palace roof into deep darkness. Something scuttled over the wall and made its way toward the penthouse. The three guards had to remember to breathe.

_Come on, Dwebini, be right. _

The thing in white stood up. The woman, for the comely figure was surely female, walked toward the door. It reached out but suddenly stopped. She looked down and snarled. Dropping to her knees, she mumbled.

Kim rose up, Ron followed. They walked over cautiously, weapons ready. The growling figure on the ground ignored them until Kim spoke.

"You might want to pace yourself. There are a lot of sesame seeds and they go all the way around the building."

A head jerked up and the Romans jumped back. Moonlight fell on cloudy eyes set in a bloodless face. Its voice seemed to come out of the ground rather than from the twisted lips. "_Clear these things away, insect, the King is mine!"_

"Was yours." Kim corrected. "It's time you moved on and let him do the same. He's his own man now."

"_You mean he's Rome's slave!" _The thing hissed.

"Rome doesn't have slaves, she have friends and allies." Ronicus slapped his sword against his shield. From one corner the Decurio Ronicus Regarus led men of the Golden Mouse. Marc Barcus lead his men out from behind a screen of palms. Twelve swords, one spear and one mouse sized sword leveled at the creature. "And she protects them."

Her laughter was such as a snake might make. _"Oh, brave Romans; to be so wary of a girl! Why, I'm not even alive anymore, how dangerous can I be?"_

"Just ask the parents of Cirta." Kim answered grimly. "We're ending this tonight; for the children of Numidia and their King."

"_A challenge?" _the cold voice snickered. _"Accepted. But I choose the arena for our little game. You will come with me."_

The Prefect stepped forward. "Of course, as commanding officer I will meet you in the name of Rome."

"_You?" _the once queen of Numidia snorted. _"I will not fight the lackey of Scipio. If I must face a servant let the servant of a goddess face me."_

The look in Kim's eyes filled Ronicus with dread. "You can't face it alone, MW."

"_She can and she will. Step aside, little man, this is no affair of yours."_

"NO!" Ronicus lunged with Lotus Blade, but even his powers and the sword could not match the speed of the empusa. Sophonisba leapt over the soldiers and landed on the wall. She fixed Kim in a deadly stare.

"_Choose now, insect. Come fight me in my tomb, or try to find me in the city. I must warn you, I was denied my King, so that other part of me is…thirsty."_

"You will fight me?" The Masked Warrior drew herself up.

Ronicus put his hand on his wife's arm. "You can't! No monster has honor. We'll take her now."

"How, Ron? You saw how she avoided you. We'll never find her and she'll take more children. This is our only chance." The green eyes did not hesitate to look into the cloudy ones. "On my honor as a Possibilis and Priestess of Minerva, I accept."

The thing on the wall nodded. _"Do not keep me waiting." _

An instant later the wall was empty. Putting her spear under her arm, Kim strode toward the stairway.

"MW." Ron was ever careful to never use 'KP' when she was in armor. "You're not going alone."

She spun on her heel, but instead of flashing with anger her eyes were soft with affection. "I never thought I was. What better escort could I have?"

Silence and darkness greeted them in the streets. Guards stood at attention as the party rode through the main gate. They did not stop at the royal tombs.

"Masinissa gave her one of her own." Marc Barcus pointed to a tomb standing at the edge of the royal burial area. The tomb looked neat enough, though upon coming close one could see the seals were broken. Cold leaked out of the door and into the night air, making a thin trail of fog.

Kim dismounted without hesitation. Her husband and escort followed her lead. Ronicus looked her in the eyes. "Are you sure about this, MW?"

"The gods will assist me." She answered with conviction. "We'll never have a better chance. As long as she's…alive…children will die and Masinissa will not come to Rome's aid. If Hannibal has the advantage in cavalry you know what will happen. The war will go on, and on."

They stood close. Finally Marc Barcus cleared his throat. "Go on and kiss her, sir. All right people, about face!"

Soldiers turned smartly. Kim pushed her helmet back as Ronicus took her into his arms. When they paused for breath she smiled. "Got my back?"

"Always, KP."

"Thanks, I needed to hear that." Next she rubbed Ruffio's chin. "Take care of him."

A tiny plumed helmet nodded.

"Make sure nothing comes out. I shouldn't be long." With a prayer Kim touched the door. It swung open revealing darkness. She stepped through boldly.

The door swung shut behind her. Once it closed the room lit up. The tomb was small but well appointed. Clearly the Numidian patrols were vigilant, or else fear had kept the robbers away. Fine pottery and ampoules contained perfumes and other luxury goods. Gold and silver work also glowed in the eldritch light. Nothing was disturbed except for the empty bier in the room's center.

A hand ran along the bier. As Kim watched an arm took shape, followed by the rest of the empusa. Sophonisba had indeed been beautiful. The features were fine but not at all sharp. Her skin had a lovely olive tone. Rich black hair was done up in an elaborate weave. Dark eyes hinted at a cunning mind and dauntless will. Full lips twitched.

"So nice of you to come." The voice was different from the hiss on the palace roof. "My King provided for me as best he could. I'm surprised the Romans didn't insist on throwing me to the dogs."

"We would never do anything so barbaric." Kim said.

"No? How did Hannibal learn the fate of his brother Hasdrubal?" Teeth gleamed. "You are a savage people: strong, cunning, very, very good at self justification but still savages!"

"We don't have a Melquart." The Priestess of Minerva gripped her spear tighter.

"No, you just sacrifice foreigners in times of crisis." Mockery filled the almost living voice. "At least this time the gods will be sated by Roman blood. Still, they may not answer your prayers; that is a god's prerogative.

"I wish we had met earlier." Sophonisba sighed. "You have spirit. And the Numidian idea of girl talk is better suited to brood mares. I saw your Ronicus the day father and Scipio met with Syphax. He was speaking about you of course. Something about a 'Kimora Effect' about how you make things and people better than they are."

The head tilted down a bit farther than it should have been able to. "Well, I have an effect of my own, the Sophonisba Effect if you will. I drive men mad."

"It won't work on me." Kim narrowed her eyes.

"No, I suppose I'll have to do something else." Sophonisba charged no longer the Carthaginian noblewoman but a thing mocking life and defying death. Kim barely moved aside before talons left deep grooves in a table. The Masked Warrior's return thrust was avoided by an impossible twist. The empusa attacked again and again. For her part Kim limited her attacks to short jabs or sweeps of her spear. As best she could Kim kept something between her and her foe.

"_Very cunning."_ It nodded at her. _"But your plan is flawed."_

"Plan?" If her helmet had been pushed back Sophonisba would have seen a maddening smirk.

"_Yes, insect. You conserve your strength, bide your time. Do you hope to last til the dawn? Is your plan to destroy me in my sleep?"_

"It had occurred to me." The enemies circled each other warily. A tsk tsk came from the Carthaginian, the withered tongue made the sound chilling.

"_Such nobility, willing to risk yourself for others."_

"Duty, Sophonisba, you understood that."

The eyes were human for a moment again. _"And I understand sacrifice. You stand willing to die. What gives you such resolve? Do you think your Ronicus will avenge you, and then mourn you?"_

"He loves me, and he's more powerful than you'll ever know." Another lunge brought a sneer from the empusa.

"_Yes, I could sense his strength. But you err if you think he will live to face me. As in Rome, this game is evenly matched."_

"Even?" bravado could not mask the concern in Kim's voice.

"_I have supporters abroad tonight. A little less lively than yours, perhaps, but just as committed. You can ask your dear Ronicus shortly, one shade to another."_

SPQR

The tomb door slammed shut the instant Kim crossed the threshold. Luckily Ronicus was a moment too slow; otherwise he would have lost fingers. "It's sealed!" he shouted.

"Punica fides!" Ruffio snapped.

"I could send for some entrenching tools." Barcus volunteered.

The tingling at his side told Ronicus that the Lotus Blade also stood ready to help. _You're still a secret to everyone but KP and I plan to keep it that way. _"No time, Centurion. We'll just break the seal with our swords."

"Begging your pardon, Prefect." Ronicus' old second in command spoke. "But the Masked Warrior agreed to confront the creature in its lair. That is an oath of sorts. Breaking that seal bring a curse upon your…comrade in arms."

"This is getting worse by the second." Ronicus grumbled.

"Yes, Prefect, it is." Ronicus Regarus pointed to the darkness beyond. "Someone's coming."

Again the moon was hidden by clouds. The tell tale sounds of armed and armored men set minds to wondering. The clouds parted slightly, shedding some light onto the scene.

"The helmets and shields are Carthaginian, it could be a city patrol for the tombs." Barcus suggested.

"We'll see." Ronicus' old class mate stepped forward. "I am Ronicus Regarus of Rome. Advance and be recognized."

Thunk! A javelin pierced Regarus' shield. He fell back. "Not friendly!"

Barcus nodded his approval. "Excellent use of standard operating procedure. You all hated the way I drummed it into you, but holding your shield correctly when you issued that challenge saved your life."

Now Roniucs Stoppabullus followed procedure: he took command. "Ready missiles!"

Each cavalryman had brought along a small javelin, while Barcus and his legionnaires each carried a pila. They brought their weapons up to return fire.

"Throw!" At Ronicus' command missiles sailed into the advancing shapes. Some buried themselves in shields or rattled off helmets. The one hurled by Barcus struck a man square in the chest, driving him to the earth. A comrade stopped and pulled the pila out and the prone figure stood up.

The last clouds moved away and full moonlight bathed the advancing enemy. Helmets and metal armor were green with corrosion. Leather armor was as dry and cracked as the skin of its wearers. Unfortunately, the weapons appeared sharp and a light flickered in the empty eye sockets.

"Bread and circuses!" Barcus gasped. "Who opened the gates of Tartarus?"

Everyone took a step back. Even Ronicus was a bit shaken until a tiny kick to a cheek guard brought him back to conscious thought. Another of Barcus' maxims came to him. _Don't give your men time to think or panic; give them orders!_

"Shields up! Draw swords!" The concrete directions made the shambling threat a little less otherworldly. For their part the walking dead acted like any mundane foe. They threw a few javelins and darts of their own. Rotted lungs gave no battle cry, but they managed a rush, trying to break through the Roman line. The men of the Golden Mouse threw them back and gave their cheer.

"Abooyah!"

SPQR

Noise from the battle filtered into the bomb. Sophonisba's sneer faltered at the shout.

"_What was that?"_

"The sound of Romans winning!" with her opponent distracted, Kim risked everything on an all-out attack. Her spear caught the Carthaginian in the chest. She lifted her opponent off of her feet and drove her back, finally pinning her to a wooden pillar supporting the roof.

The withered thing thrashed and howled. Kim reached behind her back for her dagger. The obsidian blade shot into position. All plans fell apart when the empusa snapped the spear shaft and slid back down to the ground. It ducked under Kim's slash. The back handed slap to Kim's masked helmet was not so much an attack as an expression of utter contempt. For an attack Sophonisba grabbed Kim's cuirass at the arm holes, lifted the Roman and hurled her into a corner of the tomb.

"_A worthy plan. You even thought to bring something to cut me apart with. Too bad you lack the speed to match you insight."_

Kim shook her head to clear it. Obsidian shards gave evidence to the force she had been thrown and to her lack of any weapon. _Think, Possibilis, think! There has to be a prayer, a charm, something. There's got to be a way to stop her!_

SPQR

"There's got to be a way to stop them!"

The attack did not let up for a moment. Rotted shields and armor could not stop Roman steel, but what good is it to inflict a mortal wound on a dead man? So far luck and skill had held out, no Roman suffered more than the most trifling of wounds. More worrisome to Ronicus was the sound of labored breathing among the men. Their fey enemies did not tire or lose nerve. Soon men would fall from sheer exhaustion.

_We're doing everything perfectly and if this keeps up, we'll be dead in a few minutes. _The Prefect thought in sheer frustration.

_If the music does not fit the dance, change your tune._

_Who…Master?_ Hope rose in Ronicus.

_It is I. _The familiar voice spoke in Ronicus' mind. _I am coming to see things play out between you and Elefist. I know your heart remains true to the vows you took, even if you are a bit behind on the many children._

The gentle humor did just as it was intended. Ronicus relaxed enough to understand the Master's instruction. _If we can ever win this war you'll see children! But like you said, time to change plans. Gotta run, Master._

_Oh course. I shall see you in the flesh soon enough. _

Ronicus pushed back his attacker. Instead of the usual thrust he brought the Lotus Blade down overhead. The weapon changed into a slashing sword at the moment of impact and resumed its Italian style the moment it passed through the truncated foe.

"Barcus! Men! No thrusting: cut them to pieces!"

"Are we Romans or Gauls?" Barcus growled in reply. "A slash wound seldom kills."

"They aren't alive; forget regulations for a minute!" Another ancient soldier fell apart under the Lotus Blade. The sight of Ronicus standing over a fallen enemy caused the men to follow his lead. Though used as a thrusting weapon, the Spanish sword was fully capable of cutting through a man. Hacking them apart did not kill them, but the severed limbs and torsos twitched harmlessly on the ground. The grisly mass impeded the next advance, but the men would need more time to catch their breath.

Ronicus took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He could feel his hair stand up on end. As he stood a bit ahead of his men no one saw his glowing eyes. His foot rose and slammed back to the ground. There was a sound like a distant thunder.

The tremor rolled through the earth and upended the unquiet dead. They fell over and onto each other with a clatter or arms and armor. They were tireless, they were fearless, and now they proved to be graceless. There was now time for the Romans to recover and for their leader to wonder.

_How's KP doing?"_

SPQR

Inside the tomb Kim started to stand when a vase crashed into her helmet. Only the extra cushion provided by her thick hair kept her from passing out. Still, she slid back down, drawing a snort of derision from her foe.

"_This is the great Masked Warrior, the one who stopped Hannibal? The Lion must not be quite what I thought. No matter. In a moment I will end this. At first I had thought to slake my thirst with your blood, but your life is so puny compared to my Masinissa or even your husband. I think I'll just twist your head off: you call me a monster, it's time I acted monstrously."_

_I can't stop her. _Kim's mind reeled. She pounded a fist on the ground in anger. Something was under her fist, something whole, metallic. Realization flooded her with hope. _Not stop. Resume. Complete the transaction. _

Acting terrified was easy enough. The empusa bent down to grab her. At the last moment Kim brought her hand up with the object. Her fist opened at the thing's mouth.

Chocking, the empusa stumbled back. It tried to spit out what Kim had shoved into its mouth. Instead something like oily black smoke boiled out and sank into the ground. Whatever it was, its scream was muffled by the earth it returned to.

Instead of a monster Kim now found herself facing a young woman covered in a burial shroud, the coin again on her tongue. The material was light enough so that Kim could see the dark eyes. There was courage, pride, and something Kim had never known: the awful awareness of failure.

For a moment the two stared at each other then something caused them to look at the west wall of the tomb. No wall was seen. Dark water lapped onto a bank. At first they saw nothing else, but soon they could see the boat glide through the fog. An old man stepped to the front of his craft.

Sophonisba said nothing, but the man spoke as though replying to a plea. "I sympathize completely, but there's nothing I can do."

The Carthaginian did not look back at Kim. She took the offered hand and boarded the boat. Charon took his pole and pushed off. He said nothing to Kim. She was alive, after all. In moments the boat and its passenger vanished into the fog. Once again there was a wall, and an occupant on the bier.

Outside the Romans braced themselves for the second rush. Just as the first enemy came within sword's length the grisly band collapsed. For a moment the men held their breath.

"The Masked Warrior did it!" Ronicus raised his sword. "Abooyah!"

The tomb's door swung open and Kim emerged into Ronicus' embrace. "I'll need a new spear."

They turned to a clattering sound. Horsemen came out of the darkness. Masinissa jumped from him mount. He moved as if only still emerging from a daze. "I thought it all a dream." The King stepped over the long dead warriors to reach the tomb.

"The seal, broken when you found it?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, Majesty." Ronicus answered.

"It is safe to enter, Majesty." Kim said.

Evidence of the fight was everywhere in the tomb. Broken pottery, marks on the floor, a snapped spear in the column and a gaping wound on the body that otherwise looked as though it had never moved.

"If the men on the walls had not seen those things out there attack you, I would have you all put to death for desecrating my queen." Masinissa's voice was raw with emotion. "First the Carthaginians deny her to me, then you. And I have lost her twice even in death!"

The strong man screwed his eyes shut for a long time. When he opened them they held gratitude. "You have put her to rest; a rest her own people would deny her! What a fool I was to think they might ever support me after their betrayal! I thank you both."

They left the tomb. Once outside the King was shouting orders. "Get me the priests of Pluto. I want this tomb sealed forever! Barcus, how stand my infantry?"

"We can have six thousand men ready to march within a week, Majesty."

"Make it so." He turned to one of his own men. "Juba, see to the ordering of my cavalry. We ride as soon as the troops are gathered. First it is time to make those responsible for this abomination pay."

"She already has." Kim went on to relay the day's events. When she finished Masinissa looked thoughtful.

"I had my suspicions regarding her. Still, one can't go around arresting wealthy foreigners; it's bad for business. You are certain she's dead? She spent quite some time in Egypt. Who knows what mummery she learned there."

A Numidian captain spoke up. "She is most certainly dead, Majesty. Her Gauls took her through the gate just before sundown. I saw her myself. I washed my hands with vinegar and almost scrubbed them raw. Whatever poison or miasma killed her was most virulent.

"Majesty, she was green."

**Notes**

**Tadet me….**I'm bored.

**Bene habet…**All right!

**Ave, virago…**Hail the heroine! Virago has a bad connation now (at least to the ten or twelve who still recognize the word), but at the time it meant a fearless or warlike woman.

**Semel insanivimus omnes…**We have all been mad once. Remember our little guy is a husband, father and grandfather. He knows a little something about love.

**Punica fides…**Punic faith, a Roman expression for treachery. Cleverness was still something many Romans held suspect, though this time it is more understandable for Ruffio to feel this way.

**A slash wound seldom kills…**Actual quote from a (later) Roman manual of arms. Looked better in art, though, even the Romans were depicted as slashing with their swords in sculpture.

**The Empusa…**Just took a little of this and a little of that to make a creature to fit my story needs. Hawthorne was a magical wood of sorts to Romans, and we all know that apparently vampires suffer from OCD.


	8. Gathering Forces

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: MrDrP, King in Yellow, Katsumara, Muzzlehatch, screaming phoenix, CajunBear 73, whitem, Reader101w, elyk36 and all the other readers. Sorry for the delays.

Chapter 8: Forces in Motion

Southern Masaesylis

Dust rose over the Numidian plains, kicked up by thousands of hooves and feet. Columns of infantry moved ahead, surrounded by clouds of cavalry. Usually Numidians dispersed their formations in the interest of speed, gathering just before battle, but speed was not the intent of their leader.

Vermina, son of Syphax, King of all Numidia, rode front and center of his mighty host. The handsome young man wore simple garments to identify with the common footman or rider, while gold jewelry and fine weapons elevated him over the chiefs and captains clustered around him. All seemed suitably impressed, even the Carthaginian officer who rose alongside the Numidian king, at least when he thought the monarch was looking his way.

A pair of scouts approached. Vermina raised his arm for a halt and the Carthaginian, Irebal, rolled his eyes. Once stopped, the magnificent formation took hours to move again. Already the men strung blankets between spears as a shade.

"Majesty!" the first rider panted. "He is here!"

"Who?" Irebal demanded, barely able to make himself heard over the excited response of the Numidian court.

The young king shook his head. "You never listen, do you? The Wise Old Man left the deep desert to move among us! I had wondered if the great events transpiring now would bring him here and I was right!"

"Indeed you are, Majesty," the second rider nodded. "What is more, he has come here to see you!"

"He sends this message," the first rider added. "Welcome, King of Numidia, should you wish to talk this evening, I have a feast prepared for you and twenty companions."

"A feast!" Vermina's eyes went wide from the honor.

"Twenty companions?" the Carthaginian groaned. Now there was no chance to dissuade the king from going to the old man and throwing away a day's march. Indeed, he would have to spend time and possibly treasure to ensure his inclusion in the charmed circle.

Syphax's son gave orders. "Riders, return to the Old Man and inform him that I shall arrive with my companions this evening. "

The riders saluted and rode away. Now Vermina dealt with the hundred petitioners eager for one of the twenty positions of honor.

REL

That evening Vermina and twenty men rode into a strange camp. Few saw the people of the great sands away from their desert, and here were a score or more. Among them moved people whose strange eyes, skin and long, curved swords hinted of even more exotic lands. While unfailingly polite, the latters' speech was unintelligible.

Each clan of the desert folk sent a student and a warrior to escort the Old Man." One of Vermina's scouts explained to Irebal. "Once dismissed, they will return to a hidden place to contemplate the Old Man's teachings and watch the stars."

"And what of these others, these strange men and women in black?

"They follow the Old Man. Perhaps they are his clan. It is whispered that even death does not end their loyal service."

The conversation ended when a Desert Man struck a gong. "The Master bids you welcome. Come this way." A vast tent awaited them, filled with intricately woven rugs and fine cushions from which they dined off of golden plates and drank from bejeweled goblets. The Desert Clans had indeed sent their choicest treasures; these included beautiful women who served the guests. Those strange black-clad warriors stood along the tent walls, absolutely motionless.

A man motioned for everyone to sit. Once they had the empty space at the head of the feast was enveloped in smoke. It dissipated, revealing an old man in red robes who bowed from his seated position. "Greetings, Vermina, son of Syphax," he said in a rich, deep voice. "I hope my Greek is acceptable to His Majesty."

"Indeed it is," Like any good monarch, Vermina could speak the language of trade and diplomacy.

"I am honored," the Master bowed again. "We shall talk of matters shortly, but first wine, food, entertainment."

The feast was indeed fit for a king. Sweet wines flowed freely. Perfectly roasted calf and lamb beckoned upon platters lines with delectable spongy bread. Other plates brought fruits and vegetables for any taste. And the entertainment: desert women danced in their veils, jewelry, and precious little else to pulsating rhythms. While this went on, three of the black clad figures withdrew. When the first dancers finished they emerged, in finery like no one had ever seen in all of Numidia. The musicians struck up an utterly alien melody, and the three women danced. Their coy motions could not hide their allure any more than it could disguise the power in their lithe forms.

Despite himself, Vermina could not resist talking about the war's present course. The young king outlined his plans to restore the fortunes of his house and those of his ally. The dancers finished, and the Master spoke.

"Carthage is indeed fortunate to have you, Majesty. You have undone much of the damage inflicted upon your house by Massinissa and Scipio. You have gathered a considerable host. Still…"

Sensing the import of the Master's thoughts, Vermina leaned forward. "Yes?"

The old man looked thoughtful. "You have joined trickles into streams and streams into a mighty river. Still, how much better would it be if you made that river into the very sea?"

From his cushions, Irebal felt his alarm growing with every moment.

"The sea," Vermina's eyes glowed. "I shall be as the sea: mighty, all-encompassing, invincible! Gauda, how far are we from Hiemspal?"

"Two day's ride, Majesty."

"A short detour, then, especially to add another thousand riders to my banner."

"Majesty," Irebal interjected. "It may two day's ride, but it is four day's march for the infantry. Add to that the meetings with clan leaders and assemblies, and the provisioning of men and animals, a week could be lost."

"Lost?" Vermina puzzled. "How is increasing one's strength a loss?"

"When time is of the essence," the Carthaginian replied. "Even now Hannibal may be on the way to battle Scipio."

"But why would he do something so foolhardy? Hannibal must combine the elements of three armies into a coherent force. That will require much more than a winter. If he is as wise as everyone says, we should have months to rally Numidia, and I need only another week."

The Master nodded. "His Majesty is right. Before testing a bow make certain the wood is cured."

Others nodded and added their agreements, further angering Irebal. "Sycophants! Scipio seeks to end the war. He is burning the outlying towns and cities. Our Senate will see no choice but to order Hannibal to attack. He has no choice!"

"There is always a choice when one is a true leader," Vermina objected. "Hannibal will wait for me, Senatorial orders or not."

"Wait…for you? ARGH!" Iregal's rage had the better of him. He stood up and glared at everyone. "The only reason you are king is that your father could not defeat Massinissa when he had overwhelming odds and our help! And now you and your officers dally in fleshpots while your kingdom is at stake! You must move now!"

"Must? MUST?" the King took umbrage. "A King never must do what anyone tells him."

"Really? You seem to listen to this old man readily enough," the Carthaginian walked over and sneered at the Master. "An old man, a foreigner: full of smooth flattery and trickery…"

The old man sat with his legs under him rather than crossed in the desert fashion. His left hand went down and anchored his body while his right leg shot out and took Irebal's feet out from under him. He landed flat on his back. The Master stuck twice more, driving his heel into the Carthaginian's gut, then hitting him squarely between the eyes. The Numidians stared, awe-struck.

"This is a time of celebration, a place of respect and honor," the Master spoke mildly to the unconscious man before him. He bowed to Vermina. "Forgive me for my presumption. If you wish, we could care for him when you go your way."

Vermina waved the thought away. "He is a representative of his government, and a guest. A King must learn to bear with fools, after all. We shall take him with us. We now bid you good-night. Thank you for your splendid hospitality and wisdom."

"Good night, Majsety," After the Numidian court left, Hirotaka walked up to the Master and bowed deeply.

"You show great fortitude, Master."

"How? He was an easy foe, weakened by drink and made reckless by anger."

"I do not speak about your matchless skills of the Open Hand, but your other actions. It must have grieved you to give such bad advice."

"It was not bad advice, it was simply the wrong advice," the old man's eyes twinkled. "And aside for stoking his vanity, Vermina's course had been shrewd and prudent. He has restored his family's fortunes over much of Numidia. And if he were allied to the Syrian King or the Egyptian Pharaoh, he would have the time to gather all of his forces. Unfortunately for him, Carthage is a republic, and Hannibal must obey his Senate as surely as Scipio must follow the directives of his. The fate of Numidia will be decided when they meet, and Vermina will be absent. Thanks to Ronicus-san and Kimora-san, the same will not be said of Massinissa."

"And now we go to see them?" Hiortaka asked.

"Yes. I have no doubt that Lord Elefist is in the Carthaginian camp. We must help the Chosen One prepare."

"When do we leave?"

"Vermina will leave at dawn: both to assuage Irebal's concerns and as a gentle reproof to his behavior. We shall leave tonight. Be ready to strike the tents the moment their camp goes dark. The wise merchant does not give his client the chance to experience buyer's remorse."

"Yes, Master," Hirotaka bowed.

"And be sure to leave no trace of our encampment. It never hurts to add a little mystery."

Author's Notes (Spoiler alert: if any of this is a surprise to you, hit the books.)

Vermina's failure to make the party is one of the great absences in history. According to the historian Livy, he showed up much later with an army of 15,000, mostly cavalry. By itself, it was easily crushed, had it linked up with Hannibal, there is no reason to think the Carthaginian would not have scored another crushing victory.

At first I had planned some sort of heroic mission, maybe Kimora and Ronicus destroying a bridge, but she did that in the third chapter of the first story. Besides, this gave the Master a chance to show that there are many ways to win. Hope you like it.


End file.

Kim Possible, Adventure