Gragore boomed out with laughter. “What can you do about it, young one? You can do nothing. Look at yourself.” He plucked his fingers over my baby toe. “You can scarcely move this toe without my allowing it.”
“Don’t worry for me, Askca.” Perseathea spoke in a near whisper, “I’ve served my purpose. I am at peace with this.”
Her words were soft, but they flashed a fire through me. I knew what she was doing and I wasn’t going to let her. “You can’t give up. I won‘t let you!”
“What do you expect her to do, child?” Gragore interrupted again, his constant grin still snug and unwavering. “She’s chained up and beaten half to death. Your mother can’t save you this time.”
The hurt on Perseathea’s face glowed heavy at his remark, but she kept her gaze on me.
“I brought my children into this life. That was my purpose.”
“No….” I pleaded, holding back hot tears.
“Keep your sister safe.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Fate has fallen into your hands now, Askca.”
“Time is up.” Gragore quipped, yanking the Queen away me.
My face flushed red hot and I could think of nothing to do but beg. “No!”
At the sound of my plea, Perseathea busted from Gragore’s hand, shuffling her chained feet over to me. She
fell on my chest, straining to hold me, her eyes glassing with tears she would not let fall.
“I love you, Askca. I always loved you.”
I buried my chin in my chest, looking at her, straining my hands toward her. “I love you too.”
Her sad eyes softened at my words and I felt her relax her head into my stomach, as if she were finally free from her burden. And I wanted to comfort her. Needed to comfort her. My body, inside and out, ached to comfort her. I couldn’t bare the pain in her eyes. She was giving up, but it was only to spare me. I knew that, and what else could she do? Laidea and the others were in a holding cell. No one else was coming for us this day. No one was coming for her. Or for me. But it was only for her that my heart split in two. For myself, I felt no more than guilt. If it weren’t for me, none of us would be here. None of us.
Gragore clawed into Perseathea, ripping her away from me as I shook with a silent sobbing.
“You will watch your mother die!” He stabbed a finger at me, his face burning scarlet. “Look there!”
I glanced at the steak, but soon darted my eyes back to the warlord.
“That is what happens when an Amazon defies me!”
“You will not take her from me!” I ground out from clenched teeth, straining against my chains, all my sadness rapidly turning to anger. If he killed Queen Perseathea, I would do whatever it took to soak my hands in his blood. His hot, thick, red blood, would be up to my elbows.
Gragore tossed Perseathea to the ground in a jumble of chains and dust, then lumbered back to my slab, bending over so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face.
“I won’t take her from you?” He questioned, grinning to cover his fury. “Try and stop me.”
I laid there, shaking in my anger, teeth gritting. I hated him. Hated him with my mind, body, and spirit… but there was nothing I could do. At least not yet. So knowing this, he turned his back on me, grabbing up Queen Perseathea as he went.
My fists clenched and every muscle in my body pulled tight. I didn’t have a plan, I didn’t have a way of escape, and there was no one left to help me, but I did have one thing. Resolve. And hell, death, or worse, one thing was for sure.
“You will not take her from me!”
Chapter 58
“Here she is.” Gragore pitched Perseathea through the door, tumbling her into Masseeia‘s feet. “Do what you will, but be brief, she’s due for the flame.”
“What I have won’t take long.” Masseeia crossed her arms, looking down on Perseathea.
Gragore smirked, unconcerned, sliding the stable door shut.
“Cyrenna,” the First Commander glanced to the woman at her side, “tie her to the post. Let’s get her used to wooden stakes.”
Cyrenna heaved Perseathea up, chains and all, over to the suggested post.
“Your daughter’s celebration will come within the hour.” Masseeia paced. "And you will be cinders by mid afternoon. All in all I‘d say this is turning out to be an enjoyable day for me.”
Perseathea allowed silent moments to chill the air before speaking. “What is it you have for me?”
“A question.” Masseeia stopped, turning to Perseathea. “More than a question really. I have words that have been burning my soul black for long seasons.”
Taken aback by the comment, Perseathea cocked an eyebrow. The First Commander’s underlying tension was growing more and more evident by the moment. Her emotions seemed to be prying up through her skin, badgering to break out. This was unlike Masseeia. The woman Perseathea knew was like stone, cold and unmoved. A Masseeia who had never shed a tear, nor even come close, or so it was legend. Whatever lurked beneath the words drew rage into Masseeia’s breath, shaking her voice. Icing her words.
“Is this burning reason enough to betray me?” Perseathea asked, holding her calm. “Reason enough to betray GarTaynia?”
Masseeia’s eyes flashed up like blades and she grabbed a handful of the Queen‘s chains. “You are the betrayer!”
Perseathea leaned back. “How have I betrayed you?”
Masseeia stood silent, her eyes bulging as her fingers tangled in the chains. She pulled the links in, drawing Perseathea in close. Uncomfortably close.
“Do you not know me?”
“Know you?”
“You heard me.” Masseeia cinched up the chains even tighter, constricting the air in Perseathea‘s chest. “Do you not see me?”
“What are you getting at?”
“I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you one.”
Masseeia clenched her jaw so hard that Perseathea could see the thin muscles constricting. “Who am I?”
“You want to place this game?” Perseathea lifted her chin. “Fine. You‘re name to me is Traitor.”
Sparked, Masseeia shoved Perseathea hard into the post, pushing off into another pacing session.
Perseathea glanced over to Cyrenna. “And you…” she eyeballed the woman, “why is it you would betray your own people?”
Cyrenna stared back, eyes wide and without explanation, her obvious fear of the Queen tensing her childlike expression.
“You are talking to me!” Masseeia stabbed a finger into her own chest.
“Are you afraid Cyrenna will betray you the way you have betrayed me?”
“You betrayed me!”
Perseathea studied Masseeia’s face, now burning bright red, and could not understand where any of the woman’s anger was coming from. The cool and calculated First Commander she had known for cycles seemed to be lost somewhere beneath this bout of rage and unexplained resentment. Lost for how to approach it, she shrugged in her chains.
“If there is something you want to say then-”
“There is much.” Masseeia cut in, her words sharp. “And you will answer me. You owe me at least that much.”
“What are you talking about? Your words are running in circles.”
Masseeia stomped back to Perseathea, grabbing into her chains again. “Look at me.”
“I am.”
“How do you not see me?”
“I don’t understand what you want me to say.” Perseathea said, her words heavy and burdened for breath. “Tell me who I am.” Masseeia’s face flushed into dark purple now, sweat surfacing her brow. Even her white knuckled grip on the chains were a testament to her hatred breaking free, unleashing like a wild animal.
“What…? What is wrong with you, Masseeia? Has Gragore done something-”
“Tell me.” The woman pulled Perseathea back into her face. “Look closer.” Silence drew out between the two before Masseeia began slower words. “Alright. Then te
ll me who you are, Perseathea. Tell me the secrets of your past.”
Perseathea kept silent, questioning if the woman was about to head butt her. Or bludgeon into her. She could see the wrath boiling up in the woman’s eyes, turning with hate. But instead, Masseeia slacked her hold on the chains, settling Perseathea back into the post.
“You, Perseathea, know nothing of my past. Do you?” Masseeia turned her back on the Queen, walking away. Cyrenna put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, but Masseeia shifted, pushing the woman off.
Perseathea stared on the First Commander, struck silent by her. What was this about? Where had it come from? This woman before her now was so far from Masseeia. So far from her friend, the confidant, she admired. This woman was a stranger, and yet, Perseathea’s heart couldn’t help but prick at the woman’s words. Her pain was clear. Unmistakable. Something was hurting Masseeia deeply, but Perseathea didn’t have the first guess as to what it was.
“Masseeia, I don’t understand why you would betray me… or the Amazon Nation. But it is obvious to me that something has happened to you.” Perseathea paused, but Masseeia kept silent. “You and I were more than warriors, we were friends. I trusted you, even above Laidea-”
“Do you think I care about your bleeding heart?” Masseeia kept her back turned.
“I think that what you’ve done bewilders and offends me. I believed you to be a great Amazon. A proud and heroic warrior. But now you’ve proven to be no more than a…” the Queen grimaced as if the words hurt her very heart to utter them, “a traitor. A liar.”
Masseeia took a deep breath, pulling the axe from her thigh and twirling it up into her hand. Standing, she leaned back into Perseathea, settling the blade at her throat.
“Do you know what offends me?”
Perseathea stood steadfast, the axe stinging a drip of blood in her throat. Masseeia’s moods were so unpredictable now she didn’t know what to expect from the woman. Masseeia leaned into the blade splitting the cut deeper.
“Hypocrites. Hypocrites offend me. You, doing all you’ve done and taking no accountability for any of it.”
Perseathea squirmed under the chains, sinking back into the post to escape the pressing sting. “You’ve lost your mind, Masseeia. Your delusions have taken hold.”
“It is not my delusions, my Queen, but yours.”
Masseeia slid the blade like a pendulum over Perseathea’s throat, slicing the top layers of skin into several red lines. Gazing at the thin cuts as if they were little treasures.
“If you want to kill me, Masseeia, why take so long about it?” Perseathea strained in her tight chains, neck stinging. Her blood began a warm trickle down to her chest. “Stand as a warrior? Challenge me.”
Masseeia grinned. “You will die today, Perseathea. Whether by my hand or Gragore’s. It’s of no matter to me.”
“Tell me what it is you want me to say, Masseeia. What words will coddle you best?” Perseathea tilted her head back against the post, looking to the stable rafters with an aggravated sigh. “Because I’d rather die in the flame than waste another moment trying to make sense of your babbling.”
Masseeia grabbed a hold of the Queen’s neck, throttling into her bloody cuts.
“My real name. Say it.”
Perseathea choked, turning purple under the strain and loss of air. “You’re crazy….”
Masseeia dropped her hand as if she were suddenly released from her possession, taking a step back.
“Essicka.”
“Essicka?” Perseathea gasped in a strained whisper, coughing. That name kicked her in the gut. She hadn’t uttered it aloud in over ten summers. It hurt too much. She’d kept it tucked away in her heart since the day she‘d escaped Gragore.
“No… you, you don’t know that name.” She stumbled over her words, her chest warming with painful tears. “You can’t.”
Masseeia glared, her eyes glassing. “You see me now?”
“No….” Perseathea shook her head, refusing, as silence weighed heavy in the air between them.
Masseeia slumped to straddle the guard’s chair, burying her face in her folded forearms as if she were hiding there.
“Is this… another lie?” Perseathea felt her mouth go dry as she urged her heart to slow its’ thumping.
Masseeia looked up. “Do you not see it when you look at me?”
“I….” Perseathea swallowed. “I thought you were dead.”
“I should be. The way you left me here. You abandoned your own sister.”
“My sister….” The words were a whisper. “But why did you never come to me? Why not tell me?”
“Why?” Masseeia asked. “Because I was dead to you. And now, you are dead to me.”
“That’s not true. You were never dead to me. I never gave up.”
“That day of the battle, the last battle of Qkuose, I remember you.” Masseeia’s dark eyes narrowed. “I may have only been a baby, but I remember you. You and Bartamius.”
“Essicka, you were two. And I was a child myself of what? Four?”
“We were hidden away in the caves so that the Qkuose warriors could do battle. You and Bartamius were to care for me.”
Masseeia’s words stung Perseathea into the deep of her heart. “I… I know.”
“But the soldiers in black armor poured into our cave, swarming through the tunnels, prattling to one another about ‘finding the children. Finding the children. Bria’s children’.”
“Essicka. Please,” Perseathea shook her head, trying to ward off the memories, “I never meant for it to happen.”
“They swooped me and Bartamius up, but you… you hid up on that ledge.”
“I was just a child. I didn’t understand-”
“They stole away with me and Bartamius three days before the battle’s end, sweeping us back to this fortress.” Masseeia lifted her eyes to the ceiling, thinking, remembering. “To this Hell. They took me and Bartamius to Gragore.”
“Essicka… I’m-”
“Gragore took us to his witch.” Masseeia’s eyes stabbed. “And don’t you ever say my name again. You no longer have the right to utter that name.”
“But…” Perseathea began, desperately searching the words, “but Gragore came back for me as well. I was brought to this same fortress cycles later.”
“Yes, and you and Bartamius concocted your little scheme for escape, didn’t you? But you never came back for me.”
“Bartamius searched you out since the day you two were brought here, as did I when I was brought. But the seasons grew into cycles and you were kept from us. We had only seen you as a baby, we did not know you as a grown child.”
“Oh but Bartamius knew you. He recognized you, didn‘t he?”
Silence went into moments before Perseathea dared a response. “I… I am his twin. We share features. Essicka please, know that we did ache for you. Bartamius and I both wanted you safe. You were our baby sister.”
“I was put under Gragore’s private watch.”
“I know the horrors you suffered here.” Perseathea spoke softly, trying to comfort the woman. “I suffered them as well. As did Bartamius-”
“But you escaped! You bore a child. Two children. Do you know what happened to me before I escaped?” Masseeia glared in question, waiting.
Perseathea swallowed. “No.”
“Since I was so young,” Masseeia’s words suddenly dropped cold, as if they allude to someone else, “I was unable to bare Gragore a child, so one day when I was only ten summers, he became so infuriated that I could not take to his seed that he kicked me. Over and over again he kicked me. Bleeding me. Till I was black and purple. Until I could bare no child. Ever.”
Her words turned from cold to stale. “My womb is like dust, Perseathea. Dead. I escaped on my own. I had no help, no blood to rescue me.”
She took a step back, staring cold, but her eyes were starting to shine with glassy sorrow. And at that, she turned her head, hiding her face. For the first time in her life,
Perseathea thought she might see the Masseeia cry.
“I,” Perseathea began, solemn, “I don’t know what to say…. But why do this Essicka? How could you help Gragore after all he’s suffered you?”
“He is the only one with the power to get me what I want.” Masseeia crossed her arms, turning back to face Perseathea. “You and Askca will die, just the way you and Bartamius left me to die. No one in GarTaynia has purpose to question me. They believe me to be on a quest to recover your body for an honorable funeral fire. And I will return with your body. Then, I will take my place as Queen.”
“Gragore used you, Essicka. Don’t you see that? He used you to get to Askca.”
“Your sight is short.” Masseeia shook her head. “When I first came to GarTaynia, I did not realize you to be my sister. It was not till cycles later, by fate, that I walked by your hut that day. It was shortly after Palius was taken into the tribe. I overheard you and Laidea speaking of Gragore. I had not heard that name in ages and when I did, terror shook into my bones. I had to listen. You spoke of Askca and your concerns and in that instant my heart turned black against you. You were my lost sister. The one who had left me for dead, left me to Gragore and his purpose. That is when I sought out your friendship. That is why as you rose to the Queen hood, I rose to be your First Commander.”
“But that’s no reason to bring war to your sisters. How could you go along with Gragore’s plot?”
“That’s what you do not see, Perseathea. All of this, everything that has happened, it was my plot, not Gragore‘s. He’d been just as content had I delivered Askca into his hands without a war. But there was more I wanted. More I deserved. So it is not Gragore who has used me, but I who have used him.”
Chapter 59
The door ripped open, rushing light into the old stable and silhouetting the soldier at its’ threshold.
“Gragore waits."
“It will be done.” Masseeia said and the door shut. "Cyrenna, loosen her."
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