The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy)

by Traci Harding

  Herakles backs up to plead his case and avoid a swipe from my axe. ‘I just put her to sleep,’ he says.

  ‘Please do not kill my best friend.’ Theseus appeals for me to calm down.

  ‘Give it back!’ I swipe again but Herakles evades the blow.

  ‘I’m just going to borrow it,’ he assures me.

  ‘No, you are not!’ I lunge at his stomach with the blunt end of my labrys, and wind him momentarily. ‘While you have the girdle, my queen is vulnerable!’

  ‘I have friends in high places looking out for her,’ he says cockily. ‘No harm will come to her, I promise.’

  The rage inside me begs to be unleashed. ‘Are you insane? Your “friends in high places” are the very reason we have isolated ourselves from men and your godly friends for centuries!’

  I prepare to strike, but for the second time this night Theseus stays my hand from killing.

  ‘I believe him, Antiope,’ he says calmly.

  ‘I will abandon my people, but I will not forsake them, Theseus,’ I reply, my weapon still poised. ‘You ask too much of me.’

  ‘Herakles is doing this penance to save his soul,’ he reasons. ‘If the betrayal of your tribe is on his conscience, that would seem to defeat his purpose.’

  I stare at Herakles, trying to divine the truth for myself.

  Herakles makes a final appeal. ‘Beyond this world I have a divine purpose, but if my penance is not done before I die…’ He shakes his head. ‘I will be damned like most of my relatives. So please, Antiope, have mercy on my soul by trusting me.’

  ‘All right, you may borrow the girdle.’ Why do I care? What am I thinking? I back away from the warrior and look to Theseus. ‘I will stay and help guard my queen.’

  ‘No!’ Theseus protests. ‘They will kill you!’

  ‘Not before it is known whether I carry the next Queen of the Ha-mazons in my belly,’ I say, and continue to back away from them. Our queen will never mate and I am her next of kin, so it is my daughter who will become heir to the throne of Pontus. ‘So you have nine months to see the girdle safely returned.’

  ‘And what if you are not with child?’ Theseus reaches for me, despite my weapon warding him off.

  ‘Then I shall be dead when you get here,’ I conclude coldly and push him away, although the fire he started in my chest is burning a hole right through me. I want to stay with him.

  ‘Please come with me.’ Theseus brushes my double-axe aside to take hold of me.

  But I am resolute about my decision; neither his sweet words nor his touch is going to sway me. ‘You wanted to prove your love, so now fate has awarded you the chance.’

  ‘Theseus, time to go!’ Herakles calls from a rowboat.

  Theseus sadly resigns himself to the situation and my challenge. ‘You live up to your legend while I am gone, and take good care of our son,’ he instructs and then kisses me.

  The moment is gone before I realise and he walks away from me. You will forget me, I say in my mind. I know it.

  ‘I am going to marry you, Antiope,’ he calls back.

  ‘Time will tell,’ I reply. I am sceptical: is it possible to place my faith in a man and trust his love for me will save my life? Death seems far more likely.

  I am dragged before my queen as a traitor and discover my crime in releasing the hostages is far greater than I had imagined, for Herakles failed to mention that he had killed Asteria while making his escape. I am so gullible! Herakles has no intention of returning the girdle, and Theseus has charmed his way to freedom, just as my sisters warned he would. The head of our armies, my mentor and dear friend, is dead and I am sentenced to join her in the afterlife. But in the meantime, my queen will wait to see if I am with child, and if so, whether I am carrying the heir to her throne.

  I am indeed pregnant. I am imprisoned in a tower of the palace and isolated from all contact with my sisters. From my high window I watch them happily enjoying the life I used to share. My only company is the child in my belly, to whom I have become more attached than I could have imagined. I do not intend to allow anyone to murder my only friend through this trial; I intend to fight to the death and then sail the seven seas to see this child to safety, if fate decrees it to be a boy. Occasionally I find myself imagining that Prince Theseus will come to our rescue and steal us both away to safety. It is a foolish dream, for nowhere is safe for us now that I am marked as a traitor; the Ha-mazon will hunt me down.

  Months roll by and as my time draws near, I begin to formulate an escape plan for my child, should I need one. I have not allowed my condition to let my warrior skills wane—I have all day, every day, to train. Yes, I will be weak from delivering my baby, but I have been badly wounded many times and fought on, and never before have I had so much incentive to triumph.

  On the day my labour pains begin, I am sitting at my tower window and notice some strange metallic objects moving across the sky. My heart fills with terror for this can herald only one thing. ‘Nagas!’ I yell to my sisters down below. The Nagas are the lizard people who were servants and slaves of the Nefilim before they rose up in rebellion against their masters.

  At any other time my sisters would ignore my call, so I am relieved to see women rush to the warning horns to put our city on high alert.

  My next contraction takes hold and is stronger than those before it. The door to my tower opens and my younger sister and midwife, Melonippe, enters. ‘Anything?’ she queries impatiently.

  ‘No, nothing.’ I smile and struggle to right my cramping body; I ignore the pain—a discipline I am well used to.

  ‘I am needed to mount our defence,’ she advises. I see the fear in my sister’s eyes; of all our enemies, the Nagas are the only foe we dread. ‘I shall be back to check on you when I can.’

  ‘Leave me a weapon, Mel,’ I plead.

  She shakes her head. ‘I’ll make sure the tower door is locked.’

  ‘I know I am bound for execution and not worthy of protection, but I am the last line of defence for your future queen,’ I reason.

  Melonippe reluctantly reaches for the dagger on her hip.

  ‘That will be useless against the Nagas,’ I object. ‘I need my labrys.’

  The Nagas are the reason that the labrys is the Ha-mazon weapon of choice for hand-to-hand combat. When Lilith and her daughters first wandered the face of the Earth in search of a new home, they were attacked by a swarm of the Nagas, who had not died off as the Nefilim had thought. As the lizard race had no females of their own kind, they raped the women. They did not succeed in taking hostages, as Lilith used her superhuman powers to drive the creatures away, but many of the women, including Lilith, were left impregnated in the wake of the attack. However, the battle had taught them much about their enemy. They knew arrows and blades could not penetrate the reptilians’ body scales, and that the only way to kill the Nagas was to behead them. And one needed an axe or a good sword for that. The women designed the labrys and used it to fend off any further attacks, and when the half-breed creatures the women were carrying were born, they too were beheaded with the labrys. All except Lilith’s spawn: he was born with superhuman strength and cunning. He escaped decapitation to establish himself as the ruler of the Nagas.

  ‘Please, Mel.’ With my final plea, the contraction passes.

  She glares at me, despising me for my betrayal, yet loving me still as her sibling. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she says, and leaves.

  I look to the objects hovering high above our city and I pray to my great foremother Lilith to deliver us from this attack. Surely it cannot be coincidence that we have not seen these creatures for hundreds of years and yet they choose to visit us now, when our queen is not protected by the girdle of power. Are they aware of her vulnerability? Could it be that Herakles and Theseus were the source of this information? The probability stabs at my heart with more intensity than the labour pains that aggravate my body. My illusions of love are fading fast, and I accept that I shall probably pay with my li
fe for the compassion I showed those men. Until then, I will kill any creature that gets between me and my child’s freedom. The Nagas will not attack until nightfall, which, judging by the shortening gaps between my contractions, is when my child will enter this world.

  The door to my tower opens and Melonippe places my labrys on the floor. ‘I wish you were fighting with us, Ann…I miss you.’

  I rise and waddle to the door, which is closed and locked before I reach it. ‘I miss you too, Mel,’ I call through the heavy barrier. Tears of regret and sentiment well in my eyes. ‘I will not forget this kindness. May the Goddess be in you this day. You know where I am if you need me.’

  I retrieve my weapon and keep it close. Now that my labrys is in my hand, my child’s future is assured.

  The pain is so intense that my consciousness has withdrawn inside of me, focused on nothing but dispersing the cause of my agony from my body. Some time ago I heard the battle cry. I know my people are under attack but I am hard pressed to be of aid or even to care; death would be a welcome relief. The tower has fallen into darkness, which, in my defenceless position, I prefer. I hang from a crossbar in an upright position, bearing down with all my might. My grip on the bar is weakening and my legs are beginning to fail me, but to lie down will slow the birth process and I need to have this baby now! Not in all my days have I felt so exhausted and never has it been so important for me to endure.

  I summon all my strength for one last attempt at birthing this baby from my vertical position. Before I can even push, I feel my child bursting its own way into the world. I crouch in the darkness to assist and catch my babe, and wrap its body quickly, then struggle to deliver the afterbirth. It is a long and arduous task, for I am sore. Once I have shed my burden, the cramping subsides and I cut and tie the cord that once bound my babe to me. I make a sling from some fabric I have been storing for just this purpose, and hold my babe to my body. It locates my nipple and begins suckling.

  I am reaching into the sling to check its sex, when I spy a creature at the window of my tower, the moonlight at its back. It must have scaled the wall. My pain has lessened and again I have my wits about me and am aware of the battle taking place below me in the city. Now it seems the battle has come to me. I silently take my labrys in hand and back away from the bloodied birth site.

  The creature stands upright as it reaches the floor—it is a good foot taller than I am. Then it drops to all fours and, nose to the floor, follows its hunger to the afterbirth. As the creature devours it with relish, I bring down my weapon and sever its head. The body falls and twitches on the floor.

  There is a banging at the tower door. At the same time, a second reptilian crawls in through the window. I draw a deep breath for strength. If the Nagas knock down the door, I will have my escape route.

  ‘Antiope!’ My heart skips a beat to hear the voice of Theseus just beyond the door. ‘Are you alive?’ he begs to know.

  I dare not answer and betray my position to my enemy, who has spied his companion’s corpse on the floor.

  ‘Stand clear!’ my prince yells in warning, and the door bursts open. Herakles stumbles into the dark tower room to confront the reptilian warrior. The Nagas lashes out, making several nasty gashes in the arm of the huge warrior. Herakles looks mildly annoyed. Grabbing the lizard from behind by the chin and around the shoulders, he tears its head clean off.

  I have never been so pleased to see anyone in my life; this is my dream come true!

  ‘Antiope!’ Theseus enters carrying a torch, which he passes to Herakles, and rushes to embrace me.

  ‘Careful.’ I hold him at bay, lest he crush the child strapped to my front.

  ‘Our son?’ His worried expression transforms into wonder and expectation.

  ‘I do not know the child’s sex,’ I tell him honestly.

  ‘Shall we see?’

  At my nod, he unties the sling. Herakles brings the torch closer, but we hear someone climbing the tower stairs. Theseus reties the knot and we all stand with weapons poised.

  Melonippe appears in the doorway. ‘You’re still alive,’ she says, seeming as surprised as I am that we both survived. ‘The queen wishes to see all of you in the temple. You are to drop your weapons and follow me.’

  ‘You brought back the girdle?’ I ask Herakles and he winks at me.

  ‘It is already in your queen’s possession.’

  The relief is incredible, although it is doubtful that this will change my sentence. I whack Herakles in the jaw with the blunt staff between the blades of my weapon. ‘That is for killing Asteria,’ I tell him.

  ‘You killed one of her kinswomen?’ It seems this is also news to Theseus.

  ‘A truly regrettable accident,’ Herakles admits.

  Theseus is clearly not happy. ‘That changes everything! Why did you not tell me?’ Now it is the prince who wants to kill his best friend.

  ‘We would never have come this far if I had,’ Herakles replies.

  Melonippe whistles, drawing their attention to the fact that she has an arrow aimed in their direction. ‘As much as I would love to see you tear shreds off him,’ she tells Theseus, ‘my queen awaits.’

  The men file out peacefully and I follow.

  ‘What sex is the child?’ my sister asks as I pass her.

  If it is a boy, she will slaughter him this instant. ‘It is a girl,’ I say. ‘You have your queen.’

  ‘You must give her up to me,’ Melonippe says.

  I delay the inevitable. ‘But she is feeding.’

  ‘Then we shall find her a nurse.’ Her voice hardens with annoyance.

  ‘No!’ Theseus turns back to assist me.

  ‘Yes!’ I say, holding up a hand to stop him in his tracks. ‘I am a security risk to her now; we all are.’ I hope that he will not question my bluff.

  Melonippe exchanges her bow for a blade, and waits for me to undo the sling holding the baby and tie it about her instead.

  ‘Now move,’ she says, and motions us all down the stairs ahead of her.

  In the temple, Hyleana waits to take possession of her heir. Melonippe delivers the babe into the arms of our queen. I wait alongside Herakles and Theseus for our fate to be decided. The queen admires the sleeping babe in her arms and, peeking under the cloth, checks that my claim of a girl child is true. I hold my breath to pray that my faith in the Holy Mother is sound—that she has delivered unto me a girl who will live!

  Theseus silently takes hold of my hand and squeezes it for strength. Hyleana lowers the cloth, still appearing enchanted with the child, and I breathe a great sign of relief. No matter what happens now, my child is safe.

  ‘Antiope.’

  Fatigued and injured, I step forward and bow deeply before the queen, then wait for her to pass judgement on me.

  ‘You betrayed your people by releasing these captives who trespassed on our land, murdered your kinswoman and stole our most sacred treasure. I have decided that death is too good for you, dear sister, thus I sentence you to marry your prince and return with him to Attica.’

  I gasp with a mix of welling joy, relief and sorrow. I raise my eyes to view my sister and queen, and I know she is smiling behind her veil. ‘Your mercy is great, your Highness.’

  ‘You will not think so in ten years,’ she warrants, as I step back and take my place alongside the other accused.

  ‘Herakles.’ Hyleana summons him forward and he goes down on one knee before her. ‘You saved my life this day, but had you not stolen my girdle from me, my life and city would not have been at risk for you to save.’ Her tone hardens. ‘My primary grievance is that you killed our champion and most trusted adviser. Do you have anything to say in your own defence?’

  ‘I am guilty as charged, your Highness.’ Herakles sounds remorseful and humble. ‘Is there any way I can make amends for her death?’

  Hyleana does not have to consider the notion very long. ‘As Asteria was the equal of ten Ha-mazon warriors, if you father ten Ha-mazon babies, I will cons
ider the debt repaid.’

  ‘And what if I father boys?’ Herakles queries. ‘Would they be given to me to raise?’

  Hyleana dwells on this a moment. ‘I agree, but only on the condition that they are never told of their origins, for if they ever set foot in Pontus, they shall be killed as surely as they would have been at birth.’

  ‘I look forward to enjoying your hospitality for some time yet,’ Herakles says, and steps back to join us. ‘It will be a refreshing change to love my way to freedom.’

  ‘The pleasure will be all ours, I am sure,’ Hyleana returns.

  She calls forth the last of the accused with some affection in her voice. He kneels before her, even though he is not subject to her rule nor looking for her pardon.

  ‘Theseus, you are the first man ever to capture the heart of a Ha-mazon. You escaped our custody fairly, without crime against or injury to any of my people. This day you brought your forces to aid in the defence of Pontus against a formidable foe, at the cost of many Attican fatalities. Thus I believe I owe you a favour. Ask of me what you will, Prince of Attica.’

  Theseus, formally excused of any crime, assumes his rightful standing position. ‘I have only two wishes, your Majesty. One, you have already realised.’ He glances back to me and his devotion fills me with joy. ‘My other wish is that Antiope and I may raise our child together in peace.’

  I can hardly believe he would be so bold. The queen will never agree.

  ‘Ask yourself, Theseus,’ the queen poses, ‘what is in the best interest of my daughter? Here she will be raised as a goddess, to become the independent leader of her own mighty nation. Can you offer her that?’

  Theseus looks to me for my advice.

  ‘We can have other children,’ I say, my words shooting daggers into my heart for the thought of parting from my new babe is agony. ‘Her destiny is here, and ours lies elsewhere.’

  The prince swallows his disappointment and pain and turns to respond to the queen. ‘Then my wish is that you take great care of our daughter.’ He bows as tears overwhelm him, but is composed when he rises and steps back to join me.