“Wake up swine!” You hear a cruel female voice command as cold water drenches your face shocking you into consciousness.

You try to wipe away the water, but your hands and ankles are firmly bound. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes you slowly begin to regain focus, coming out of a drugged like state.

Your mind races trying to remember and process your surroundings. As a captain of a small company of soldiers you were sent to capture a local tribe that has been raiding the newly founded Roman colony. Your task was thought to be easy by the colony's elders, since it was rumored the tribe was made up mostly of women, and thus it was conjectured that their men had been decimated in battle with some other tribe. Initially, you resisted your orders, finding it distasteful to enslave women, but you are a Roman solider, pledged to obedience. Besides, the money brought in from Phoenician slavers would greatly aid in guaranteeing the colony's survival.

The last thing you remember was making camp around a spring of fresh sweet water and ordering the sentries to their night watch before going to sleep in your tent. Now you lay on you back bound by thick leather manacles on your wrists and ankles in a spread eagle “X” position to a large heavy wooden table carved with strange and ominous runes. The tunic you sleep in has been stripped off, leaving you in just your loin cloth.

The bondage table that restrains you is well lit by a large wooden and iron chandelier that hands about five feet above you. It is the only source of light in the room, however, with the fringes of the space disappearing into shadow.

You can make out two figures in the room. One is away from the table, off in the dimness, wearing a blood red and black hooded priestess robe. It's the one standing next to the table glaring down at you, however, that grabs your attention as your senses finally come into focus.

She is beautiful and tall, with long dark hair and cruel fierce black eyes that are full of anger and contempt. From the slight wrinkles in her face you guess she must be in her forties, yet any woman twenty years her younger would be jealous of her figure. Her exquisitely crafted golden white hoplite cuirass is cut a bit on the revealing side which highlights her athletic toned abdomen and pleasant cleavage. A meticulously crafted kopis sword is sheathed at her side, while a small crown of lapis lazuli, onyx and gold rests on her head. This picture of womanly power and beauty is framed by a royal purple cape with silver trim.

“Hear me dog,” her voice is imperial, “you're in the presence of Marpesia, Queen of the Amazons!”

[The cover picture is of the witch Bizia Magissa, priestess of Hecate.]