Page 3 of Hot Zone

People spilled out of the feast in pairs and groups, some laughing drunkenly, others singing bawdy songs in various tongues. She recognized snippets of Greek and Egyptian from her studies of ancient languages, and she heard several dialects she couldn’t even begin to guess at.

A few guests indulged in more physical entertainments. She averted her eyes from the graphic sight of a fat, bald fellow partaking of a young man who was on his hands and knees behind one of the columns. The catamite caught her eye and smiled lewdly at her, licking his lips.

A woman screamed, the sound cut off abruptly as a group of young men closed in around the female in question. An urge to race to the woman nearly overcame Tessa. If the woman was lucky, that scream was a playful one. If not, Tessa couldn’t help lest she endanger her own mission.

Her guide stopped at the entrance arch to an enormous hall and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “I present to you the imperial court of the king of kings, ruler of the Medes and Achemens, of Ethiopia and India and all between, His Glorious Majesty Emperor Xerxes of Parsa.”

Xerxes.Athena had done it. The professor had managed to deliver her to her exact destination—the court of the legendary Persian emperor. If Athena’s timing had been as accurate, Xerxes had already marched his massive army across the Hellespont, and around the northern shore of the Aegean Sea. He should be in the final stages of preparation for his assault on Athens.

Tessa stepped up beside the guard. And stared.

The imperial court of His Glorious Majesty Emperor Xerxes of Parsa was currently engaged in a giant, drunken orgy.

“Wait thou here while I find thee a member of the court.”

She nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from the decadent scene. Bright colors assaulted her eyes everywhere she looked in the cavernous space: women bedecked in jewel-toned gauze; elaborate rugs on the marble floors; mosaics and frescoes on the plastered walls and ceiling depicting bloody battles, hunts and lascivious sexual indulgences.

Huge brass braziers emitted flickering light and sweet-smelling smoke that curled, serpentlike, around the pillars and contributed to the thick haze hanging over the room. Slave girls fed reclining men orange slices and red grapes. Young men danced drunkenly to the strains of twangy stringed instruments and nasal-sounding horns.

And bodies. Half-naked or exposed in all their glory, bodies writhed everywhere in a mass of multiethnic humanity that covered every horizontal surface—the floors, the low, cushioned couches around the edges of the room, even the tabletops. In a single glance, Tessa observed more variations upon a sexual theme than she could ever possibly imagine.

Purposeful movement drew her eyes. Her guard was returning with a man who was blessedly dressed and walking in a straight enough line that he must not be completely snockered.

This new man stopped in front of her. He gave her dark cloak and hood a once-over while she clutched both more closely about her. “Welcome to the court of Emperor Xerxes, my lady. With whom do I have the honor of conversing?”

Time to put her plan of attack into action. The historians back at the Project Anasazi lab had worked it out. They’d decided it would be too dangerous for her to come to this time as a female commoner. She would have to pose as at least a minor noble so that no one made her a slave and restricted her movements while she searched for a piece of the Karanovo medallion.

She replied as regally as she could muster, “I am Lady Tessa of Marconi. I come from lands far to the north and west of this place. A great and terrible storm has cast my ship upon these shores. I fear I am the sole survivor.”

Interest sparked in the retainer’s gaze. “What empire holds sway in your country?”

“No empire. The holdings of each local lord are his alone to protect and rule.”

“Are these holdings large? Rich? Fertile, perhaps?”

She shrugged under her cloak. “Large, yes. Rich?” She gazed around the hall. “Not by these standards. Fertile? Famine is completely unknown in my home. We have such an abundance of meat and grain that my people sell a huge surplus each harvest.” And wouldn’t the average American farmer get a kick out of being described that way?

The retainer looked decidedly intrigued now. Almost as if he were calculating the income from seizing her lands. “Have you supped, Lady Tessa?”

“I have not.”

“Come. Let us break bread together.”

Something tickled the back of her mind about the significance of breaking bread with someone—must be some local custom that Athena had implanted. Tessa frowned. Better safe than sorry. “Forgive me, kind sir, but I do not hunger. Perhaps I may warm myself by a fire for a few minutes and then seek my rest?”

The retainer frowned, but replied courteously enough, “As you wish. Come with me.”

She picked her way gingerly across the room, dodging some of the more…athletic endeavors…of the guests. Her host deposited her by a fireplace so large she would need to stand on a chair to touch its mantel. A roaring blaze poured out heat. She was already warm under her sturdy cloak but wasn’t about to take off the garment and risk rape in this assembly of debauched drunks.

Not to mention the professor could very well have dressed her like a freaking harem girl under this cloak. Tessa had already registered a complete lack of undergarments, and a suspicious breeze had wafted up her skirts as she’d followed the guard earlier.

If time of day translated during time travel, it should be barely nine p.m., but this party looked to be well advanced. She was hungry and hot and more than half tempted to leave.

But academic curiosity got the best of her. Was Xerxes here tonight, in the flesh? The name of the fabled Persian emperor still echoed down through history. He’d assembled the largest army in the history of mankind for the purpose of invading Greece, but ultimately failed. Tessa had studied the histories of the invasion in detail. She probably knew the names of many of the lesser kings and generals in this very room.

She scanned the hundreds of men in the hall, seeking some indication of which one might be the mighty emperor. Many wore jeweled circlets and a few wore the crowns of kings who served the Persian emperor. The variety of race and dress was impressive. But then, the Persian Empire spanned North Africa, Eastern Europe, all of the Middle East, and stretched well into Central Asia.

Which of these were General Masistes, Xerxes’s brother, and General Mardonius, ill-fated commander of the doomed invasion of Greece? Was Artaxerxes, heir to the throne, here? Maybe even Xerxes’s Jewish Empress, Esther, of Old Testament fame? Despite the perspiration plastering Tessa’s dress to her skin, the thought of standing in the presence of these giants of history made chills race across the back of her neck.

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