by K C West
She and I sat and stared at each other while Kim drifted off to sleep. I took a deep breath. “Listen, I appreciate the fact that we’ve been untied and that we were allowed to clean ourselves and eat some food. I don’t suppose we could wash our clothing, too. We managed to get pretty dirty when the village Welcome Wagon greeted us earlier.”
She shook her head as if not understanding my comments, and stood up.
“Wait, I still have questions.” But she ignored me and left the hut.
“Shit.” I kneeled beside Kim, touching her forehead with the back of my hand. As gently as possible, I kissed her cheek and was relieved to find no fever present. She reached for my hand, but her eyes remained closed.
“Kimberly Elizabeth Blair,” I whispered.
“Mmm?”
“Don’t you ever let me eat kalamari and octapothi for lunch again.”
*
Later in the day, after I’d slept for a while beside Kim, the healer returned. Without her mask, she looked older, but much less intimidating. Two young women trotted behind her and carried clothing.
She did understand. But how? This got crazier by the minute.
I caught the old woman’s arm. She stepped back as though she had been burned, and I released her. I tried again to approach her, standing so close that I could smell her breath. It was not unpleasant, rather like a mixture of herbs and spices. “Tell me please, how Kim can speak your language when she has no knowledge of it?”
I thought the old woman’s features softened a bit. She reached forward, pulled my medallion up from inside my shirt, and spoke one unmistakably English word. “This.”
“Holy cow! Now I can understand you.” I put shaky fingers to my lips and a shiver raced along my spine. My words were not English. “This is insane.” I took a deep breath. “You’ve got to tell me more. ‘This,’ just doesn’t cut it. I need an in-depth explanation.”
She shook her head at me, and I felt like a child again.
The old woman raised the medallion until it was right in front of my eyes. I could see kaleidoscopic colors pulsing with life inside it. When she replaced it under my shirt, its heat warmed my skin.
While I was interacting with the healer, I watched her two assistants remove the poultice from Kim’s body and bind her ribs with long strips of clean cloth. One of the women dropped a tunic of soft deerskin beside her mat. Kim thanked her for the gift.
I was given what could only be described as a leather hand towel and a few thin leather straps. Kim fingered her tunic and her mood seemed to brighten. When she saw me holding up the pieces of leather, her mood brightened even more.
After leaving the scanty items of clothing with us, the healer and her companions turned to depart.
“Wait a minute,” I called. “I’m missing most of my wardrobe. And you never explained how a piece of jewelry can act as a translator.” Since the healer had left the hut, further questions were pointless.
One of her assistants turned back, took the leather towel, and held it to my waist. “This goes here.”
I sucked on my lower lip. “Okay, I’ll pretend it’s a miniskirt. But what do I wear on top?” I pointed to the area of my breasts.
She raised the two braided strips.
I took a step back. “They’re no more than belts, and not very wide ones at that. There’s no way I’m wearing those.”
She reached to pull up my shirt.
“Hold it, sister.” I grasped her wrist. “I can dress myself, thank you. That is, if you’d just give me the rest of the costume.”
The second of the healer’s assistants paused at the tent entrance. She returned to assist her cohort in tugging down my pants, both of them.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I snatched back my underpants which had been the object of much curiosity. It must have been the lace that fascinated them. They watched with interest as I pulled them back on.
Enthusiastically, the two women wrapped the leather skirt around my waist, where it hung just below my navel, and then they rid me of my shirt and bra.
They examined my bra, too, giggling as they held it up to the light, pulling it this way and that, measuring the cups to their own breasts. Almost as an afterthought, they took the belt-like strips, crisscrossed them several times around my chest, and tied them in the back with what I hoped was a square knot. I felt my face and a good portion of my upper body turn crimson from their scrutiny. Like a second heartbeat, the medallion, nestled comfortably between my breasts, continued its warm steady pulse.
The women stood back, apparently happy with my transformation. I couldn’t bring myself to see how much they left exposed, but judging by the chill on my skin, it was significant.
When Kim struggled to stand up, the women helped her into her tunic. I kept my arms folded over my breasts and my back turned away from her for as long as possible.
“PJ, turn around. Let me look at you in your new duds.”
I moved just my head, twisting it enough to appreciate her form-fitting, one piece ensemble. “Wow! You look sensational!” I admired the deep V-neckline and how it enhanced her cleavage.
“Come on. Now you.”
“Oh, geez.” I turned toward her and lowered my arms.
“Ooo-la-la. I’m feeling better already.” The expression on Kim’s face was positively lecherous.
“If I as much as breathe the wrong way, I’ll pop out of this crazy harness. I can’t possibly go anywhere dressed like this.”
“Oh, but you must,” the healer said, rejoining her assistants. They stood by, watching as we exchanged compliments, until chanting and drumming sounds came from someplace in the village.
As if heeding a message in the various drumbeats, the old woman and her assistants took our hands. “You are to be taken to our largest visitor’s residence,” the old woman told us. “Later, there will be a feast in your honor. The queen has commanded.”
“Isn’t that just peachy,” I said.
I dropped the old woman’s hand and turned to face her. “I’m not going anywhere until I know about this language thing. How is it that we can communicate with you? We’ve never been here before.”
The healer shook her head and pointed to my glowing medallion. “All in good time.”
I noted for the first time how gnarly her hands were and how claw-like her fingers. She appeared older than time itself.
I turned to Kim when the old woman and her assistants had left. “How old do you suppose she is?”
“Ancient. And I bet you our freedom that she’s a shape changer.”
I shook my head. “Aren’t we in enough trouble without you suggesting more?”
*
A young woman came to escort us across the clearing and into a larger hut that sat among other large huts, each with a fire pit in front.
“Ah, the Ritz.” PJ couldn’t resist the sarcasm.
“Shush. Like it or not, we’re guests here. Let’s act graciously.”
She nudged me as we surveyed our new, larger quarters. “You’re taking this all very seriously, aren’t you?”
“You bet I am.”
“Okay, to humor you, I’ll be on my best behavior, though I must tell you, in this dreamland, you’re a bore.”
It hurt to laugh, so I had to be content with a snicker. “You’re not such a scintillating conversationalist yourself. But that outfit makes up for all sorts of shortcomings.”
Hands on hips, she gave me a withering look. “One more crack about this costume and injuries or no - “
“You may rest now,” our guide said. “The festivities will begin at sundown. Someone will come to escort you.”
“Festivities? What festivities? Are we to be the sacrificial lambs?”
The word festivities had evidently rung alarm bells with PJ. “It’s all right.” I moved closer and put my arm around her to allay her trembling. “They’re not going to hurt us.”
I turned to our guide. “Thank you, uh… what is yo
ur name?”
“Sheena.”
PJ coughed. “Sounds like something out of Lion King.”
“What is this Lion King?” Sheena asked.
I answered before PJ could utter another smart remark. “It’s a movie, but you don’t know what that is, do you?”
“Moo-vee?” Sheena repeated the word slowly, but was visibly puzzled.
“It’s a story about a brave lion who became king.”
Sheena threw her shoulders back and stood proudly at attention. “I will do brave things some day.” Her smooth skin, almond-shaped eyes, and long, black hair offered us a preview of the beautiful woman she would become.
“You are a warrior?”
“An apprentice warrior, but some day I will be like this Lion King.”
“You will indeed,” I said, having witnessed the earnestness of her demeanor.
PJ had listened to the exchange in silence, but she confronted me after Sheena left. “Lion King? For Pete’s sake. You’ve lost it, you know. Gone completely ‘round the bend. Bonkers. Daft.” She paused in her tirade. “And just for kicks, will you tell me what this language is that we can now understand?”
“I think it’s some form of ancient Greek. And you understand it, too. You’ll be speaking it fluently in a few days.”
“A few days, my ass. We aren’t going to be here a few days.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
“Scott Fleming isn’t going to get another dime until he can explain this.” She paced and waved her hands with vehemence. “This is on his head. Therapy indeed.” PJ spat out the words and poked her finger in my direction. “Before he started analyzing me, I had fun dreams. Now look where I am. Wandering around, lost in nightmare alley.”
“Haven’t you wondered why our captors didn’t take our medallions when they took everything else we had with us?”
“Actually, no. I’ve been a little busy taking care of you, making sure my boobs were covered, and wondering if we’d ever get back to reality.”
“It’s just kind of strange, that’s all.”
“This whole trip to Amazon Land is strange, if you ask me.”
*
The interior of the hut was bright with late afternoon sunlight streaming through the doorway. On one side, an inviting bedroll awaited, beside it, a large basket of fruit and assorted sweetmeats, a pitcher of water, and goblets.
I pulled PJ down onto the bedroll which was piled high with soft animal skins. “Bonkers I may be, but Sheena suggested we rest in preparation for the big doings tonight. Let’s make the best of it and do what they say.”
“Scott’s going to have a field day deciphering this dream,” she whispered, snuggling against me, and I’m thinking that you’re going to need his services more than I am.”
“I thought you had decided to dismiss him.”
“Probably. But first I’ll enjoy hearing his reaction to all of this.”
I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her, gently at first, then greedily as passion consumed my whole being. “I love you so much. You’re part of me, what I do, and who I am.”
PJ’s breath was warm against my neck. “I love you, too, and though I may be a little crazy at times, when it comes to you, I know exactly where I belong.” She nibbled my earlobe, causing electric currents to race through me.
“That’s the perfect place. Belong there as much as you like.” My lips sought the soft spot under her chin.
“Are you sure?” She tried to raise herself up to look at me, but I was too absorbed in kissing and caressing her exposed skin. I had plenty to attack thanks to the Amazon clothiers.
“Of course I’m sure.” I buried my head between her breasts and inhaled her familiar fragrance, now enhanced with moist, salty leather.
She gasped at the boldness of my passionate tongue.
“Kim.”
“Yes?”
“I - just thought. Whew! Down, woman.”
I paused. “You don’t like?”
“Oh, I like. I like a lot. But I’m worried about your wounds.”
“What wounds?”
My teeth nipped at the underside of her breasts and she gasped, breathing from her mouth, making little mewing sounds, slipping into the familiar rhythm of arousal.
“The… oh, you know… I thought you might not feel up to this right now.” She groaned as I slid the straps from her heaving chest. “But obviously I was wrong.”
“Obviously. Help me get my tunic off, will you?”
“With pleasure.” PJ lifted the garment carefully and draped it beside our bed. She kissed each and every bruise on my body. It took a long time, but I felt no pain at all for the next several hours.
Afterwards, I gazed at PJ as she slept, happy that she was at peace and that I had contributed to the lingering smile on her lips. But sleep would not come as easily for me. I was vaguely aware of camp sounds: women’s voices, laughter, the metallic sound of practice swordplay, and cheering bystanders. The sounds and the smells were vaguely familiar. I wondered if this was, as PJ had said, a dream, or if we had somehow been transported back in time.
No way. PJ was right. It had to be a dream.
A tiny part of me wished it was real and that we really were here with the Amazons, but common sense told me it was not possible.
I dropped off and awoke just as it was getting dark.
Chapter 10
Two young women escorted us into a clearing.
“Who do they think they are?” PJ asked when they twirled their weapons and saluted several of the older women.
“Apprentices,” I whispered.
“Gee. No kidding.”
“Come on, you were young once, looking to impress people.”
“I guess it’s not too far from wearing tight leather pants and riding Harleys, hoping to get my father’s attention.”
They seated us near the front where we would have a good view of the festivities, then took their places, one on either side of us.
I gave PJ a nudge. “You rode motorcycles? You never told me about that.”
“Once or twice. The chauffeur we had before Mitch owned one. Let’s just say that I’ve grown up a bit since those days, though riding would still be a kick.”
“A Vespa was the biggest two-wheeler I ever rode.”
“They’re fun, too.”
Our companions frowned and made shushing noises. PJ stared straight ahead, arms folded across her chest. I took a longer look at our storybook surroundings, soaking up the atmosphere. Many campfires burned in a bright circle, casting an orange glow over the assembled crowd of scantily-clad warriors. A slight breeze ruffled the thin plumes of smoke rising amidst the flames. Whenever a log was tossed onto one of the fires, sparks rose in an upward shower of stars that disappeared into the night.
Beneath a brilliant moon, older women chatted excitedly among themselves. Others stood about, tapping their feet, keeping time to the drumbeats that echoed and re-echoed around the clearing. My heart picked up the beat. I felt strangely exhilarated and aware of the anticipation building toward the queen’s arrival. I wanted so much to share my feelings with PJ, but I knew that she was not ready yet to accept our situation.
She edged closer to me, her eyes darting from one warrior to another. I could tell the pounding drums were unsettling her.
“Relax, honey.” I gave her thigh a rub. “They’re just showing their pride. Queen Elizabeth and her entourage couldn’t have a better build up.”
“Yeah, but it’s my sanity that’s at stake here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, other than what’s to be expected after the trouble in Wales. You’re going to be okay.”
“And what about this charade we’re playing? It’s all some sort of game, and I haven’t a clue how it works.”
“Shush. Something’s happening.”
The drums quickened their tempo, forcing my heartbeat to keep time. A group of young bare-breasted women saluted the full moon, before throwing themsel
ves into a frenzy of movement.
“Oh, goodie. We get a floor show.”
“PJ, please. Just go with the flow, okay?”
“If you’re expecting me to take off this top and join the rave, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t considered it, but if you feel the urge, I won’t object.”
“At least this hideously skimpy series of straps covers my boobs, and I intend to keep it that way.”
I kept my voice as low as possible. “Whatever you say, sweetheart, but you have nothing to be ashamed of in that regard.”
She was silent, but I think her lips twitched.
Fresh participants arrived periodically to replace tired, sweating dancers. As the drumming intensified, my head throbbed. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant; it allowed for the release of the primitive me, calling from deep within my soul. That essence had survived despite the centuries separating the original Marna and myself.
I knew she was here, but where? Would I recognize her?
I glanced at PJ and viewed her through a veil of lifetimes. What was she thinking? Had she discovered her past self? Or did she think this was caused by illusions, dreams, or even demons?
She had a strange expression on her face when she looked at me.
“PJ? You okay?”
“I can’t figure out if I’m behaving badly in your dream, or if you’re being anal-retentive in mine.”
Biting back a laugh, I took her hand and squeezed it. “Did it ever occur to you that it might not be a dream?”
“Yes, but that’s not what really scares me.”
“What then?”
“The expression on your face is a cross between rapture and remembrance. You’re so totally into all of this.” PJ encompassed the clearing with a wave of her arm.
“Don’t you find it spell-binding?”
She watched in silence with me for several seconds. “I find it bizarre.”
A few seconds later, she tugged my shirtsleeve. “This part’s fun, though. All these dancing girls and food. Just look at all that food.”
A dressed pig roasted slowly on a spit, the grease spluttering into coals, creating jets of orange flame. The aroma of pungent herbs filled the clearing, mixing with the scent of pine trees and wood smoke. There were wooden platters of fowl and fish, baskets of fruit, cakes, breads, cheeses, and other assorted edibles. Pitchers of rich brown ale and wines lined several tables, waiting to quench thirsts. Tankards filled to the brim overflowed onto the ground creating dark, frothy puddles.
