by K C West
A drum roll sounded, and Leeja raised her goblet. “Honored guests,” she said, smiling directly at PJ before turning to her guest and raising her goblet. “I propose a toast to the greatest poet of all time. I give you the one and only… Sappho.”
I heard PJ’s breath catch and could only watch as she and the poet gazed at each other. “Her eyes… are amazing,” PJ whispered after she recovered from her shock. “They’re pools to the depth of her soul.”
They stared at each other until I nudged PJ. “For goodness sake, say something. Acknowledge her.”
PJ inclined her head. Sappho returned the gesture with a sweeping bow. I knew then that Sappho was the consultant Leeja had spoken about. She was the one who was going to help PJ with her writing. And who better to do the teaching than the greatest ever of lyric poets? I was happy for PJ. Writing would open new vistas for her, and it would make a difference in her life, despite her struggles with verse. If chronicling the Amazons’ place in history was to be her mission, she could have no better teacher. I didn’t know much about Sappho because little remained of her work, but I knew that she loved her students, possibly too much. I tried unsuccessfully to swallow the taste of jealousy I felt when I thought of the hours PJ and Sappho would spend together.
The feasting and dancing continued through the evening. PJ and I exchanged a few words with Sappho, and Leeja made arrangements for PJ’s writing sessions with the poet. From the expression of panic that flashed across PJ’s face, I anticipated little sleep for us once we returned to our hut. Fortunately I had a plan for making the most of those sleepless hours, providing of course, that PJ could get her mind off the beautiful poet.
*
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Without Kim’s presence for support, I was intimidated, but I managed to hold up my part of a quiet conversation with Sappho, while a young warrior-in-training assembled our writing tools and readied our work area. The space was at the edge of the meadow and within sight of the main camp. A detail of bodyguards was posted at a discreet distance, and the queen had ordered a picnic lunch, complete with wine and cider.
Sappho watched me with what appeared to be an amused expression, her eyes assessing every inch of my ridiculously skimpy attire. She leaned over and whispered, “It would seem that Leeja wishes this to happen, so who are we to stand in her way?”
“I guess we’re both stuck.”
“I intend to make the most of the situation,” Sappho said.
I wondered why Queen Leeja had joined us. Perhaps she, too, thought that she might learn something from the poet. Or maybe, knowing Sappho’s reputation for loving women, she had taken on the role of chaperone. The thought tickled me, and I couldn’t wait to tell Kim.
Sappho arranged herself on pillows and poured wine for all of us. Leeja had taken a seat on a pile of furs just to the poet’s right. I resigned myself to the arduous task ahead. Poetry had always been an anathema to me, like a magic trick of sorts that I didn’t know how to perform and really didn’t care to be enlightened about. But within the metered lines of poetry, history was to be found. On that point, I was clear.
It had therapeutic qualities, too. I had to believe that because Susanna had first suggested verse as therapy, and now Leeja wanted me to try it. A conspiracy was brewing. I picked up my goblet and drained the contents. Sappho and Leeja exchanged startled glances.
I deposited the empty goblet on the mat in front of me. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
If Leeja was irritated, she didn’t show it. “I have assembled scrolls, quills, ink, along with your own notebook and writing stick, PJ. Feel free to use the tools of your choice.”
I grabbed my journal and pen, folded my legs under me and sank onto a pillow.
“Told you she was a feisty one,” she said to Sappho, loud enough for me to hear, adding to my already considerable discomfort.
The poet unrolled a fresh scroll and dipped her quill into the ink well with a flourish. Positioned as she was, directly across from me, she commanded our maximum attention. Leeja sat quietly beside her, eating grapes and taking an occasional sip of her wine. The seemingly relaxed atmosphere was tempered by the sight of the warrior guards, close by, keeping their vigil.
How was I supposed to concentrate on what I was doing? My agitation grew with each grape that Leeja popped into her mouth. Why was I being humiliated this way? First I was forced to impersonate an Amazon with this micro-mini leather ensemble, putting my physical attributes on display whether I wanted them to be or not. While I may have been proud of my body, I certainly wasn’t comparing myself to the likes of Leeja or Marna. Just because it was a way of life with these women, in this time, didn’t mean I’d ever get used to it. And now Sappho watched me like she could see right through my meager attire.
Mornings in the village had been on the chilly side, too. The weather was not conducive to wearing so little. I wondered how some of the skimpily-dressed Amazons managed to keep warm. While Kim and I had our modern day khaki pants and shirts to help ward off the cold, how did these women keep from freezing their asses off? They had to be hot-blooded babes, every last one of them. Luckily for me, the sun was sharing its warmth, and I was able to keep my shivering to a minimum.
I opened my journal to the poem I had started. As the next phase of my total mortification, I was to complete it with the most famous lyric poet of all time assisting me.
“Now then, little one, show me what you’ve got,” Sappho said, “poetically speaking that is.” She continued to study me with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes until Leeja slapped her arm.
“Play nicely, Sappho. PJ is trying to write a love poem about Kim, her lover. She seeks literary assistance from you, and that is all.”
The poet glanced downward. “Forgive me, Leeja, PJ. Really, I am a harmless woman.” She turned toward me. “A flirtatious, sensual being, but no threat to you, I promise. When I see beauty around me, I react accordingly. It is my nature, and you are so beautiful. I cannot help but overreact. Forgive me, and please read what you have written so far.”
With burning cheeks, I read the three or four lines I had written.
“‘It’s you I love.’” Sappho mused. “Yes, that has possibilities, but there must be more. Tell me more about your Kim. She is the woman who sat beside you at the feast?”
“Yes.”
“She is a regal being, and I must believe, a passionate and protective woman.”
“Absolutely.”
“She fills your life… your very soul. You are both so close, so loving. Go with that, my dear.”
I stared inward, summoning words and phrases, sifting them, rejecting them, until a few took shape. Sappho wrote silently while I struggled with the words. Leeja, with eyes closed, stretched out serenely on a pile of furs that had been carefully arranged on the grass.
After a while, we shared ideas. While I had been consumed with thoughts of Kim, Sappho and Leeja had recalled loving memories that had touched their hearts. I gladly took their suggestions and added my own. Marna, as Leeja’s soul mate, was like her other half, a part of what made her whole. I could see and feel the power behind that image. Sappho’s lovers, and from what little I had read, there had been many, tapped into her mind and body affecting her physically as well as spiritually. I could picture that, too.
We scribbled on, pausing only for occasional sips of wine or bites of cheese, grapes, and bread. At one point, when I was reaching for a fat juicy grape, I caught Sappho’s eyes on me. She leaned over and whispered something to Leeja. They clasped hands and whispered like children sharing deep secrets.
“Okay, what is it?” I examined my outfit. “Did I pop out of this stupid harness again? You look like cats spitting canary feathers.”
“What a colorful image. I must remember that,” Sappho said. “It’s just that for a few moments, you reminded me of a student I once taught at the House of Muses.” She tapped her quill along one prominent cheekbone. “Ah, but that wa
s long ago, in another time.”
In another time.
Her words reminded me that I, too, was a visitor from another time, and what I knew of Sappho was from the historical perspective. I imagined she would be saddened that so little of her work had survived the ages. I had a sudden urge to hug her and tell her that despite the great loss to the academic world, the snippets that had survived served only to increase the modern scholar s curiosity about her life as a person and a poet.
I felt a shiver skip along my spine. Just when I was getting comfortable with these two, something had to come along to remind me of how weird this situation was.
Seeming to sense my discomfort, Leeja said, “You had better put the finishing touches on your work, PJ. Sappho has made a wonderful suggestion. We must return to the village and set it in motion. Marna and Kim are off someplace and must be recalled. Give Sappho your poem when you are finished. It will be read at the appropriate time and - “
“Wait, Leeja, just what have you two cooked up?”
“It’s so obvious, given the great love you have for each other and your ties to the Amazons. What you have written is a poetic tribute. Sappho says she writes this kind of poem for a lot of young women. They’re very popular.”
“Popular? How?” Unsure of what Leeja and Sappho were planning, I started to squirm. “Besides, you haven’t - “
“Let’s see. We’ll have a feast with roasted pigs and maybe a pheasant or two. For entertainment, the drummers will play. And dancing. We must have - “
“Please, Your Majesty, what are you talking about?”
“A joining ceremony, naturally, for you and Kim, in front of the entire village.”
“And I will read your poem.” Sappho beamed with satisfaction.
“Oh, my God!” My stomach contents threatened to revolt.
Oh, Kimmy, what have I gotten us into now?
*
“A what?”
“A joining ceremony.” PJ’s voice was a high-pitched squeak. “It wasn’t my idea,” she said, her eyes wide.
“Then whose dumb idea was it?”
“Leeja and Sappho cooked it up between them. I had nothing to do with it. It shocked the hell out of me, too.”
“Great, what next?”
“See, they were helping me with my poem - Sappho was - when they came up with the idea.”
“Why didn’t you choke it off right then and there?”
“I couldn’t. I guess I lost my nerve. I’m sorry, but you know how they are.”
“Maybe it’s not too late. Plans can be cancelled.” I stalked from the hut, leaving PJ to stare after me. I thought she might follow, but she didn’t. Although it was quiet in the clearing, I could hear talking and laughing coming from the stream where some were bathing.
“Who do they think they are?” I asked myself, as I marched toward the sound. I hoped that I could catch Sappho and Leeja there, so I could put an end to this nonsense before it went any further.
Sappho was in the midst of a group of chattering young women. She was basking in the glow of their attention. All of them were naked, frolicking in the stream. I stood on the bluff above them, wondering how best to broach, in a delicate manner, the subject of my annoyance.
As I watched, fascinated at the water lapping around their breasts, Sappho looked up and caught me admiring the beautiful bodies, and hers in particular. She seemed to enjoy my embarrassment. I remembered my irritation and my mission, but thanks to Marna I had learned to control myself. The momentary anger I had felt faded into the shadows. I saluted the poet, and then returned to make amends with my own true love.
I found PJ sitting cross-legged on our bed, writing in her journal. When I sat down beside her, she didn’t move.
“I’m sorry about what I said. I know it wasn’t your fault.”
She put down her writing materials and turned to face me. “They’re your people, Kim. I thought maybe you’d want to go along with it.”
“They’re your people, too.”
“Maybe so. That’s what they say, but I’m not sure I’m ready to believe them. And they were yours long before I ever knew about them.”
“If it’s any consolation to you, I don’t really know them at all. I’m finding their ways so primitive at times, so geared to survival. And then, it’s like they can see into the future, as if there are oracles among them. They seem to have feasts and parties for any reason, no matter how insignificant.”
“It’s pretty clear that you consider this joining ceremony insignificant.” Her eyes were moist.
When I put my arm around her, she shrugged it away. “It’s not that I don’t want a ceremony, it’s just that I was thinking of something else, more personal. A private ceremony for just the two of us.”
She stared down at her journal, twisting the cap on her pen. “You’ve always been so romantic, so caught up in your relationship with the Amazons. The Marna and Leeja we found in the Superstitions were locked in an eternal embrace. That was a ceremony that committed them forever.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “It’s only a few words we’re talking about. Would it really be so bad?”
“I’m sorry, PJ. It was just so unexpected.”
“It was for me, too, but whatever Brigadoon-type scenario we’re experiencing right now shouldn’t affect our love for each other, except to strengthen it.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I guess you’re not that romantic after all.”
“PJ, I’ll do it.”
“But, if that’s your final - Huh?” She raised her head; her eyes lit up. “You will?”
“Yes, darling, I will.” I took her into my arms. “After all, we might never again have the opportunity to have a queen and a great poet officiate for us.”
PJ kissed me soundly. “I love you, Kimberly Blair.”
“I love you, too.”
“Hey,” she said, nibbling on my lower lip. “We can still have our own private commitment later, somewhere else, can’t we?”
“Absolutely.”
*
After last minute fittings on my gown for the joining ceremony, I was escorted to the river for ritual meditation and cleansing procedures with the tribe’s most ancient member. Doubling as the healer and shaman, she allegedly had the ear of the Goddess Artemis, and a vast knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs. I had not spoken with her since she tended our wounds after our losing encounter with the overzealous Amazon scouting party, but Leeja had wanted a meeting of this sort for several days.
Kim and I had been injured and disoriented that first day. The shaman had helped to heal us then, but had spoken only with Kim about the purpose for transporting us to the Amazon village. Now, during this bathing ritual, I hoped she might give me some details of my future duties.
The meditation would take place in a shallow inlet of the river where the water would be calm and relatively warm. However, I was not informed that the shaman and I would be naked during the procedure, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. The Amazons liked to get naked for all sorts of reasons, important or otherwise.
Solemnly, our escorts undressed us and placed our clothing next to drying cloths on the riverbank. The women stood guard over us, while the shaman led me into the water.
When the level was just above my waist, we stopped and held hands, facing each other. I averted my eyes from the old woman’s pendulous breasts and focused instead on her weathered face. Pale blue eyes peered at me with a spirit and intensity that belied her age, and when she spoke, her voice, though hushed, possessed a confidence backed by years of accumulated wisdom in her capacity as the Goddess’s confidante.
She had me float on my back while she supported my body underwater, placing one hand at my neck and the other at my buttocks. At first it was disturbing to feel her hands touching me, but I was soon able to relax and forget about everything as her voice directed me further into a meditative state.
“Sink into the water,” she said. “Allow it to surround you
, hold you, and breathe with you.”
With my eyes closed, I felt the water gently cushioning my body, taking away all the stress.
“You and your soul mate are the future of the Amazons. Together, you and she will form a circle of strength. Your union will combine the four elements of our world. You, child, are Water and Air. She is Fire and Earth.”
I had never thought of Kim in that way before, but I realized that it could be true. As for me being water and air, I had no idea, but I liked the concept of my parts complementing and completing Kim’s. It made us a team… a formidable team.
The shaman slid one hand out of the water to sprinkle a few drops on my forehead. “As you experience the water moving beneath and above your body, feel too, the pull of the forces governing the seas of the earth and the rhythmic cycles of the moon. Let your muscles, skin, and bones fall away. Drift along to a peaceful place. Become a drop of water on the surface of a deep, flowing river. You are light and fast. Nothing stands in your way. The sun shines down on you from above and warms you. It calls to you. You are one with the air and the water.”
My muscles went slack and my mind grew tranquil. I was no longer aware of the weight or temperature of my body, only the soft voice of the wise woman hovering over me.
“Discover your power now, my child. The water below, and the air and sun above have entered your body and filled your spirit. You are no longer a drop of water, but a strong, yet sensitive force.”
She put one hand on my chest. “Experience the purity of your beating heart. The Goddess has given you a gift that some may think a weakness. You see others’ pain, and it makes you weep. But you are not weak. Your tears do not diminish you. They enhance your sensitivity.”
I felt stinging at the back of my eyelids.
“You are of the water. Water is emotion and the key to cleansing and healing. Use the quiet times and the healing times to develop your writing skills, and your ability to sense what is in the hearts of others. This recognition is a necessity. The Goddess challenges you and your soul mate to seek out Amazons - those who are lost in your time - and help restore the great nation from which they are estranged. Your spirit guides will assist both of you in this quest. Your soul mate will use her talents to comb the earth for missing medallions so that you and she can match these relics with their recipients, ensuring the continuation of the Amazon nation into the future.”
