[A stunned silence greeted Antice's sonorous announcement, before a buzz of conversation threatened to rock the Sheik's tent sideways. All the Rostrafarians within had peculiarly wooden looks on their faces - trying not to be obvious in that they all thought Anticus was suffering desert DTs, as it was the first they'd heard that this whole ridiculous confabulation was about a TREASURE. What about all those silly hints about banes, hints of PHI, evildoings on the side, that they'd been puzzling out since the last Millenium? Meanwhile, the Robbers were on their feet, cheering, and Sheemy Wurmit looked like he needed more convincing. After all, a treasure in the hand is worth far more than a fictional one. Anticus was in a poor bargaining position, with the manacles trailing way under his favorite sky-blue caftan!]

Cornellia [hissing sideways without moving her lips] Anticus, darling, that was a nice thought - but how are we gonna deliver?

Aelius [excited]: Don't tell me, Anticus, that the famous legendary treasure really EXISTS? Have you seen it? Have you documented it? Ooooh, what would Pollio have said!

Heraklia: Ernie, darling, I know you're excited, but this will be a tough one to pull off!

Sheemy [shouting]: Hauld yer whist, the lot of ye! All right, Master Musician, there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip - where's yer proof?

[Senex grabbed Pomponia in the dark corner and whispered fiercely "Can't you DO something? Call up someone? Desert spirits, Olympian gods, SOMETHING? We're about to go from the frying pan into the UNDERWORLD here!" Pomponia frowned and, quietly, started muttering in a corner and shaking her chic skull-bracelets from time to time, looking pained.]

Sheemy [clapping his hands again for silence]: I think you're simply spinning a tale, and the best way to prove it is . . . get the rest of the lot in here, all of 'em - I'll wager anything you like they've never HEARD of this treasure!

[Big Joe and several nasty-looking tribesmen with extremely sharp scimatars scurried from the room, and there was a delicate pause. Heraklia, figuring one had to keep up one's strength, transferred what remained in her wine cup into her hip flask, just in case of a quick getaway. Anticus hummed and stared at the tent ceiling. Pomponia had gone from muttered incantations to scratching the top of her head and rubbing her stomach with her usual occult elegance.

Then, through the tent flap they came! - all our old friends scattered to the IV 1/2 winds these last months (or years). In trooped the Chief Justice of Babylon, jojo (wiping his hands and smelling faintly of camel-dung); Barb, the Inca Queen; Fabia, composed and calm as usual; Thiudareiks, German Emperor, his hunting-cat headdress slightly travel-stained; Aulus, in a new Van-Dyke beard that did nothing for him, talking to Skyros, who was chic in green chiffon; the grunting pig, sooi, Pomponia's 'familiar'; even the cook of the Polaris, Radagast, who took one look at Ideefixe and blanched. They all went through the identical mime of seeing Anticus and Tyla, gulping with shock and delight, and then getting the same wooden look as the rest, which - given that not one of them was a decent actor - gave everyone a slightly constipated air...

Sheemy [fixing the lot with a beady eye] All right, now, it's put-up or sand-in-the-mouth time for you lot. What's this about the treasure of Alexander the Great? [a pause]... I said, if I'm going to let you lot off, I need hard currency, so what's this about a treasure? [In the corners, both Ideefixe and Radagast had peculiar, but similar, looks. Sheemy then BELLOWED ]

Sheemy: WHAT'S THIS ABOUT THE LOST GOLDEN TREASURE OF ALEXANDER?

[The Rostrafarians as a whole shut their eyes, expecting instant decapitation, when suddenly Pomponia grinned and stuck her fingers in both ears. A celestial music (circa MGM, 1939) became increasingly audible over the desert night . . . a strange set of goosebumps was shared by all. A golden light appeared to the north of the tent and grew ever larger, ever larger . . . anybody ever heard of that famous tradition, the Deese ex machina?] From afar appeared a gorgeous goddess, clothed all in pink tulle with gold and pearl trim (Skyros moaned in spite of himself) and sitting side-saddle on what appeared to be a very large mysterious oriental transport - a Kawasaki Drifter motorcycle....

Julilla [nodding briskly to Sheemy, who's mouth was down to his pectorals]: Salve, Pomponia - you called? Do we have a problem here?

TO BE CONTINUED