Amazon_Signs of the Secret

by Ms. Becky J. Rhush

  “Let us eat. We’ll dwell on such things after.” Saratiese helped me to my feet as we both glanced around camp, curious to find Palius.

  "Where is Palius the Mighty?" Saratiese said in a lighter tone.

  I giggled, feeling a bit better. "Palius, righter of wrongs.”

  “Huntress of the sun. Slayer of tiny fowl." Saratiese broke out in laughter, well amused by her own jest.

  I delighted in the sight of my friend’s long lost merriment. This was the first time in over a cycle that I’d seen her laugh, and after what happened to her in the battles, it reminded me of how strong the girl could be. It reminded me of what we use to be. Saratiese went on to hold her stomach and smack her own knee several times in her glee.

  "It wasn’t that funny, Sara. Come, let’s eat.” Saratiese fell hindered by her own red faced merriment. I pulled the girl’s chin up. “You haven’t put a hand to the vision herbs, have you?”

  “What?” The question made Saratiese laugh all the more.

  “I guess it’s laugh or cry at this point, isn’t it?” I tugged on the girl’s wrist. “Let’s eat.”

  When the fire glowed only embers, Laidea cast a watchful eye. The braves sat scattered about her feet, eating as she watched the trees. After long moments, she took a rueful breath.

  "It’s time we go." Her face was stone, but on the inside she worried painfully. Palius had not returned. She knew the company must move on and if the child could not carry her own hunt then she could never carry a quest. It was better the girl be lost and hungry for a few days than dead. The Commander had faith in Palius, but she could not allow this more than its time. Positioning her two axes in the sheaths at her hips, she looked to her warriors.

  "Kelius.”

  The woman looked up, her midnight eyes questioning. “Commander?”

  “Make provisions.” The warrior nodded and Laidea looked to the rest of them. “What food you can not store in your pouch, wrap it in the large leaves and carry it on your backs. I don’t want to hunt on this quest again." Kelius, along with the others, began their task.

  I walked over to the Commander, my stomach tightened by our earlier words.

  She looked to me. “Askca?”

  I dropped my head, still unable to face the woman. “What about Palius?”

  “We have no more time. We must go.”

  “But, what if-”

  “The goddess will watch over her.” Laidea put her palm to my shoulder, surprising me with the comforting gesture. “Palius is a bright child. She’s not defenseless. She’ll find her way back to GarTaynia.”

  I could feel the worry emanating Laidea’s words, but held my tongue. This was for the best.

  "Palius!" Belsiphiny shouted in surprise.

  The blond child appeared out of the trees, soaking in blood, the whites of her eyes gleaming through the red. She staggered, cradling something in her arms.

  Laidea sprinted out. As she neared Palius, the great gashes covering the girl became clear. Long, deep slashes lined her face and arms. Laidea dropped to her knee, grabbing the girl. Palius looked to her, parting her lips. No words, just blood. She held out the severed head of the young jaguar, blood draining its crude stem as if it still pumped red life. The Commander swept Palius up into her arms. Her calm demeanor still dominated her expression, but her eyes revealed her fear. Welling in bruises and soaking in fresh blood, Palius spoke.

  “Am…” the child stopped to swallow the blood in her throat. Her words shallow. Broken. “Am I a brave now?”

  Laidea felt a rush of warm swell her chest, but she pushed it down. With a forced smile, she replied.

  “Yes, young Palius. You’re a brave now.”

  The little girl gave a half smile, closing her eyes as Laidea smoothed the blood from her cherub face. She held Palius close to her bosom as she sprinted back to the others. Laying the bludgeoned child in a circle of her sisters, guilt covered Laidea. She had never expected the girl to risk such prey. She had anticipated a rabbit. Palius had outwitted the young jaguar, but only by chance. She was more than she appeared to be, and deep down, Laidea knew she should have expected as much.

  Smoothing bloody hair from Palius’ cheek, Laidea held her hand to the child’s chest. It rose and fell in shallow shudders.

  “Water.” The Commander ordered.

  The copper haired brave known as Lathenia handed over her pouch. Laidea washed Palius’ wounds, lifting her head to cleanse the blood and teeth from her mouth. “Palius….” She waited for a response, but none came. She poured water over the child’s face. No reply. Laidea looked up to Hippolyta. “She’s alive, but we must get her to a healer. Now.”

  Hippolyta nodded, immediately taking charge of the company so Laidea would be free to think on Palius alone.

  “Everyone, gather your things quickly. We leave now.” As the company scattered, Hippolyta put a hand on Laidea’s shoulder, whispering. “She’ll make it.”

  Laidea lifted the limp child back into her arms. A short time out of GarTaynia and the quest had already shown its’ gruesome nature. Taking a child, covering her in blood, then returning her near death.

  The braves, Tilliandre, Valasca, Belsiphiny, Lathenia, and Kia-Maie appeared deeply effected by the tragic morning, holding back sobs, but not tears. Being closest in age, they were friends with Palius. And the moment the child had emerged the trees, a crimson trophy of her own prey, they all knew. Not all of them were going to make it back from this quest. And the ones able to hold onto life, clutching at it with desperate fingers, would only live to see the others die.

  Laidea’s head swirled dizzy with such thoughts. She walked ahead of the rest in a daze, cradling Palius, trying to be the Commander her company needed. That Palius needed. There was no place for her thoughts or emotions now. Only to do.

  With every step the unconscious child bounced limp in her arms, blond curls sliding in a paste of blood and sweat against her chest. Holding a hand over Palius’ cheek, Laidea pressed the child into the thumping of her heart, recreating the comfort of her womb.

  Chapter 12

  “This is my chance to kill Perseathea.” Masseeia seethed, trotting her golden mare through the scorching heat. “I’ve planned for far too long to have it stolen from me now.”

  Cyrenna agreed from below, walking her own steed through thick morning jungle.

  “I have suffered much, Cyrenna. Sacrificed. I deserve this rite. I went through Hell when they left me.” Masseeia paused, disturbed by her own memories. “I have much to repay.”

  Cyrenna kept quite, keeping her eyes to the over grown path, careful to never eyeball the First Commander. She knew well not to rouse the woman.

  “And as for his Amazon… oh she’s coming, isn’t she? I’m hand delivering her. I should have known he’d do this.” Masseeia dipped beneath limbs, gritting her teeth. “I knew he wouldn’t kill her until he had the prize in his greedy hands. I should have Perseathea’s head on a stick by now! On the alter was his word, Cyrenna! Poetic and just. Simple. Just cut it off. Crude and bloody, just like my life, but no. Gragore stops it, retreating.”

  Distracted by a print, Cyrenna halted her horse, her stomach pulling tight at the thought of interrupting the First Commander.

  “But I’m not so trusting either. No. I marked her in the blood and I would have given her over to him. The moment I saw Perseathea’s decapitated body, it would have been done. But I wasn’t going to give up my end of the deal, not until Gragore met my demands. As if I’d be so foolish.”

  Cyrenna studied the print as Masseeia trotted passed, arm flailing, punctuating every angry word.

  “No. I will not let him have his Amazon until I have Perseathea’s head.” A sly expression crept across Masseeia like a garden snake. “As a loyalist to our beloved Queen, it will be my honor to bring her body back to GarTaynia for proper funeral rites. It’s the least I can do considering Askca and her friends will so regrettably fall into deadly, yet not so unexpected, misfortune.”
<
br />   “Masseeia?” Cyrenna forced the mumble to her lips, nervous to disrupt the verbal lashing. The First Commander trotted on, snapping twigs between determined fingers.

  “Gods! If he’d just killed her on that alter I wouldn’t have to do all this!”

  Cyrenna tried again. “Masseeia?”

  “I shouldn’t be out here. I should be in the Queen’s chamber soaking in my well deserved reverence by now.” The First Commander stopped, looking around to realize her friend to be some paces back.

  “First Commander, look at this.”

  Masseeia turned her mare, shifting her glance to the print in the mud. She slipped from her horse to get a closer look. “The footprint of a child.”

  Cyrenna raised an eyebrow. “And far smaller than any of the braves questing.”

  Masseeia hunched down. “Well, well. When there is a call, there is a call for them both.”

  Cyrenna’s eyes questioned, but Masseeia kept her thoughts quite, settling instead into a content sneer as she straightened back into posture.

  “Do you think the child is with Laidea’s company?” Masseeia snickered, but gave no answer as Cyrenna lifted to stand. “Either way, the mud around this track is smooth. Whoever the child is, she was alone at this point in her journey.”

  “It is well.” Masseeia massaged her chin, pulling her horse into a walk. “I know just where the little one is headed. And I know Laidea. By the look of day,” she cocked her head, a hand shielding her eyes from the bright heat, “they’ve traveled this morning already.”

  Cyrenna kept pace behind the warrior. “How is it you know Laidea so well?”

  “Sister Amazon, you learn much when your eyes and ears are open, as mine have been since I came to GarTaynia.”

  “But how will we overpower the company? Laidea is a most skilled Commander and her warriors are among the best and-”

  “Her warriors are among the best? My warriors,” Masseeia jabbed a firm finger into her own chest, “are the best. Do you doubt me?”

  Cyrenna froze, eyes wide. “No. No, of course not.”

  “Do you doubt that I am a superior warrior to Laidea?”

  “No, Masseeia.”

  “I am the First Commander. The right hand to the Queen. Not a second hand with second hand skill sailing under nepotistic privilege.”

  Cyrenna dropped her head to avoid the woman’s searing eye contact. “You are far more skilled. I fear your position.”

  “Then you’ve no need to worry over my plans, do you?”

  “No.”

  Masseeia lingered, relishing her domination over the woman. “I will inform you of my plans when I see fit.”

  “Yes, First Commander.”

  Masseeia regained her pace. “Until then, do not insult me with your disrespect.”

  “I never meant-”

  Masseeia whipped around to meet the woman in the middle of her pace. “Cyrenna,” she leaned in uncomfortably close to the woman, “I’ve planned this destiny for more than half my life, and if you want a part in it then you will understand it best not to know everything I know. If I want you to know of my past or of my reasoning, I will tell you.”

  Cyrenna held her breath, trapped under the oppressive warrior’s words.

  “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Masseeia took pace again, leaving the smaller woman to catch her breath.

  Cyrenna waited until the First Commander was a few goodly steps ahead before initiating her own pace. Masseeia needed time in peace. Even if she didn’t, Cyrenna did. Her thoughts were jumbled. Why would Masseeia yearn so lustfully after the Queen’s rite? The rite of Queen-hood was an unspeakable honor, but Masseeia seemed far more obsessed with Queen Perseathea losing it than she did in gaining the rite herself. Whatever the reasons, Cyrenna held her tongue. She knew well not to stand against First Commander Masseeia. Anyone who had was dead.

  Chapter 13

  A humble village spotted with grass huts and modest gardens waited just down the hill. Stone lined paths weaved in and out of trees in the valley, leading to an assortment of huts. A handful of children laughed and played as a nearby woman, tending her kettle, kept watchful eye. Wind rustled through the shaded village and up to Laidea's sun scorched face. A simple village, only a dozen families or so.

  Laidea looked back to her company. They fixed questioning eyes upon her, so she gave a nod, leading them out of the jungle. As the Amazons trickled out of the trees, the woman by the kettle took notice. She hurried to her children, swooping them up while proclaiming an unfamiliar word. At the call of the strange word, a steady stream of men filed into the pathways, makeshift weapons at hand. By the look of them, the men were simple farmers and fishermen, but driven by an obligation to protect the women and their young.

  Laidea guided her company down the dusty path with a silent tongue and no weapons drawn, but vigilant eyes kept guard. By the time they reached the center of the village a

  crowd and nervous chatter awaited them. They stood on display as curious villagers eyed them over every portion of their bodies. The Nation Amazon called the Westlands home, rarely venturing beyond the hills to the North, so the warrior women were more night fire legend than reality this far out.

  The men stared at the women with wide eyed disbelief. Their own women were weak and delicate, where as the Amazons were muscular and solid, suited for battle. Amazons had bred this way since the beginning of the Nation a hundred cycles before. The women selected strong, hearty men to mate with so as to produce powerfully built daughters to carry on the name. This reflected well in the braves, who stood as giants in comparison to the children of the village. The men could not believe their eyes, but still stood ready to protect their own, even if it meant their lives.

  Had the Amazons come to take the village, the men would have stood no chance… and they knew it. They were not soldiers, nor warriors. They were simple men, unskilled in the ways of battle, but still they stood, and Laidea admired them for this. The people huddled together seeking shelter in their number. Children clung to their mothers, crying, and the men said not a word as Laidea settled Palius into Hippolyta’s arms.

  "I am Laidea.” The auburn haired woman stepped apart from her company, palms facing up in offering. “A Commander of the GarTaynian Amazons. We are not here to pillage, we simply seek help with our child. We would be grateful for any hospitality."

  The people eyeballed the Amazons in silence until a burly man stepped forward, holding a staff under white knuckles.

  “We’ve no coin for you to plunder here and no food to spare.” His warning drew deep and husky. “There is nothing in our meager village for the likes of you.”

  “We are not interested in your goods, as I have already said.” Laidea tried to assure the man. “We seek a healer for our child.”

  The man shook his head. “Leave us!” His voice boomed. “We’ve no need for your kind here.”

  The Commander raised an eyebrow, insulted by the insinuation. Everyone in the village waited on tense silence.

  “Is that the way of it then?” Laidea asked from under clenched teeth. “Because I’ve no time to spare on your-”

  “They need help with the child, Garrith… that’s all.” A young woman pushed her way through the crowd, offering a smile. She approached the company of women, addressing Laidea. "I would be honored to share my hut with you and your sisters. I am not the village healer, but I can tend to your child and offer you food, water, and rest." Laidea relaxed, taking the woman’s hand in gratitude. "You are very kind, thank you."

  She gave Laidea a shy nod, then led the Amazons back through the crowd till they were well beyond the disapproving glances of Garrith and the others. They headed down one of the stone lined paths, enjoying the cool of the corresponding shade trees until the trail spilled over into a blanket of lush grass dotted with pecking hens. A modest hut lingered just a few paces off the path. The company relaxed in the grass while Laidea followed t
he woman inside.

  "Let me ready things for your child." She offered. Laidea watched the woman go about her task. She was pleasant to look at, hair as black as a moonless night cascading in tumbles down her back. Flawless, sun colored skin that appeared delicate, her hands being the only exception. They shone course and callused as she dipped a cloth into a bowl of water. The woman seemed oddly fragile to Laidea, causing her to wonder how it could be that the woman didn’t always feel vulnerable to attack. As peculiar as it was for the villagers to see the Amazons, it was just as puzzling for the company to witness such frail women.

  "I apologize for my people.” The woman turned back to Laidea. “I am afraid they have only heard tales of the Amazons. Frightening tales.”

  “I understand.” Laidea nodded. “I apologize as well.”

  “Oh no. It is most understandable. I am a mother myself. I would be frantic.” Laidea smiled as the woman put out a hand. “I am Meesha. Meesha of Saron.”

  “Laidea of GarTaynia… as you know. So this is Saron?”

  “Yes,” Meesha sighed, “and as for the people of Saron, they fear what they do not understand.”

  “Most of us do.”

  “But also know, most who come to Saron do so to plunder. We have lush meadows ripe with vine, sheep and boar are plenty, and there is a swollen stream just a morning’s walk from my own front door. Soldiers come through every other cycle to strip it bare… ” Meesha hesitated, “among other things. Here,” the woman extended the bowl to Laidea, “take this to your women, then bring me the child.”

  Laidea nodded, taking the bowl as she retired from the hut. When the Commander stepped out, she found Hippolyta under a tree, Palius cradled in her lap. Laidea handed the warrior the water then swept up the child.